Jane Birkin passed away yesterday. ‘Elle est venue nous dire qu’elle s’en allait’, it says today in Libération. A small salute from our reporter Stijn Tormans about a chance encounter.
It was a hot evening in the Indian summer, in Paris, six years ago. One of my heroes, Richard Hawley, was to play that evening at the Théâtre Lepic, a beautiful but very small theater in Montmartre.
Six months earlier, a car had wrecked my leg. So I picked up the mountain with crutches. In the auditorium I put my crutches wearily on the theater seat next to me. Like my coat. So that it was clear to everyone: that chair is for my leg, don’t you dare sit on it.
Around half past eight the theater was full, except for that one empty seat. Then suddenly I heard a high-pitched voice say: “Is that seat next to you still free?”
Here we go, I thought. Bored I looked up and was shocked: in front of me was the woman whose photo has hung quietly in my boys’ room since the years.
I quickly snatched my coat, she took my crutches. “What happened?” she asked.
“A car,” I stuttered.
‘How bad. Legs are so important,” she replied. She had learned that in her life.
C Herman Selleslags
In my mind I replied, “I know, Jane.” And I wanted to tell her about a photo I had once received from Herman Selleslags because I liked it so much. Taken in a studio of the RTBF, one day in 1970. Serge Gainsbourg and a journalist from Moustique are also on it, but no one was watching.
That’s what I wanted to tell you, but you’re always so witty in hindsight. Because nothing hurts more than a silence when you sit next to Jane Birkin, I asked, “Are you a fan of Richard Hawley?”
‘How bad. Legs are so important,” she replied. She had learned that in her life.
That turned out to be the stupidest question ever, but thank God she was able to laugh about it.
“No,” she said. ‘I don’t know this Richard, I’m here for Lou.’
My frank didn’t drop, though I vaguely remembered there was a Lou on my ticket. The annoying support act, I thought.
“She’s my daughter,” she clarified.
Enter Richard. And then Lou.
When the lights came back on she said, “Richard was fantastic.” “Lou too,” I replied.
She beamed as only a mother can shine, handed me my crutches and said, “Take care of your leg!”
To make up for it, two years later I was in the front row when Lou Doillon came to Het Depot in Leuven. It wasn’t difficult – there was only one line, so few people. But Lou was great.
Later I saw Jane perform in the Roma. And in Fourvière, on that beautiful mountain in Lyon. It was the night the Belgians lost to the Italians, but I was the luckiest boy in the world.
I wanted to shout to the stage that I now know how important a leg is, and how fantastic her daughter is, but I didn’t dare. So today I sang ‘Di doo daah’ and put a dried up rose at her feet.
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2023-07-18 12:03:21
#Legs #important #Stijn #Tormans #goodbye #Jane #Birkin
