Then. Now. Next.: The Fame Refuge

Like most unassuming small towns that’ve been adopted by creatives over the years, Woodstock was full of power players who were joyfully living under the radar when I first took up residence here almost two decades ago. The word ‘creatives’ is slightly cringy to me, wildly overused and most certainly not what comes to mind when I remember my early days in what is often referred to as “the oldest arts community in the United States.” 

There was, of course, my neighbor and friend of decades, Michael Lang, a name recognized as royalty here, having co-created the zeitgeist that was Woodstock ’69 and its adjacent festivals. Michael was the ultimate famous yet nonchalant Woodstocker, sweet and gregarious and kind and somehow able, in a social gathering, to relay a personal revelation that could stop nearly any conversation as the jaw succumbs to gravity. 

I remember one evening around my pool when we adults were all chatting as the kids swam. The talk turned to love, specifically, unrequited love or loves from past lives on which we reflected fondly. Michael quietly mentioned, “Yeah, for me, that was Janis.” Um, Janis Joplin. 

Then, there was the luminous Uma Thurman, who’d been a neighbor when I was in my Woodstock infancy as a renter, trying on various roads in our mountain town before we bought our own place. Uma and I had young children that were roughly the same age, given to splashing around in a creek at the top of our road. I remember a summer evening when my family strolled into The Bear Café, having actually had a run-in with a black bear family in the woods not far from our rental house. My mother, grandmother and sister were still agog at the proximity of wildlife, then even more stunned when we encountered another rare sighting: a bona fide celebrity at dinner who seemed to recognize me. “Be cool!” I admonished my family. “She’s allowed to eat her meal in peace. Stop staring!” No doubt, when my mother returned to Philadelphia, she herself dined out on the very tall tale entitled “My Daughter’s Friend, the Movie Star.” Oy! Oy! Oy! And jumping ahead to today, Uma, as lovely as ever, remains a coveted square when people visit and play “guess who I saw in Woodstock” bingo. 

Of course, a town our size, with a formidable film festival, draws in even more bold-faced names on a regular basis. Having worked with The Woodstock Film Festival over the years, I’m always happy to interact with so many artists whose works touch me greatly, especially when I learn something new about them. This year’s WFF poster was created by Matt Dillon, and as always, he was a sweetheart. And when Matt was in town for the festival a few years back, he scored extra points in my book when we bonded over our mutual love of painter Philip Guston, with Matt asking me to arrange a visit to the Woodstock Artist Association & Museum. Now that—that’s up-close-and-personal Hollywood On The Hudson, inside edition.

So, what do you do when encountering a celebrity in your neighborhood?

• Oh please, let them enjoy their lunch/ice cream/swimming hole respite in peace. If you must say hello, do it quickly. I always think a simple “thanks for such meaningful work” is the nicest approach. Screaming and jumping up and down is, um, frowned upon
• Ask permission to take a photo. One photo, got it? My actor pal, Vera Farmiga, is the pinnacle of kindness when fans approach her; I admire her grace more than I can say
• Many of our local celebrities live here quietly with their families and as such are wildly protective of their loved ones. Look at it this way: Would your children be OK with you posting a photo of them doing (fill in the blank) on social media? There’s your answer. Put down Instagram and enjoy the scenery

roll camera, roll sound (above) Three-time Oscar winning film director Ang Lee (Brokeback Mountain, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon) on location filming Taking Woodstock. (Photo by Ken Regan)