Kylie Lang: ’Liv’ was the essence of goodness
The outpouring of grief for Olivia Newton-John is testament to the power of goodness, writes Kylie Lang, who once dined with the superstar.
Kylie Lang
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When I had dinner with Olivia Newton-John – even writing these words seems surreal – I was struck by one thing in particular: her goodness.
Here was a woman who’d achieved more than most of us could dream, and in the ruthless and flamboyant world of entertainment no less, yet she was softly spoken and gentle, almost ethereal.
Not a hint of arrogance. Not showy. Not demanding all eyes be fixed on her and some carefully curated personal brand.
Olivia, who died on Monday after a long battle with cancer, was all class.
We met in early 2006 at Gaia, the wellness retreat she founded with friend Gregg Cave near Byron Bay (and which sold for $30m last year to the private investment group owned by mining magnate Andrew “Twiggy” Forrest).
I was invited for the weekend by a mutual friend, and I suspect with the possibility of a story in Brisbane News magazine, which I was editing at the time, although that was not spoken about. “Just come. Experience Gaia. Meet ‘Liv’”.
It was all very low-key, without formality or fuss.
Over a flute of bubbles before dinner on the Saturday night, the superstar – looking effortlessly gorgeous in loose black pants, a plain black T-shirt and minimal makeup – told me about her mother Irene and what a talented person she was.
She expressed regret at not appreciating that more.
“Mum was a gifted photographer and poet,” she said, “yet I never got around to publicly celebrating her talents until after her death (in 2003).”
Olivia, then 57, had gone to the trouble of having her mum’s photographs of flowers printed on to canvas and hung on walls around Gaia.
She asked if I had children, and said how much she loved her daughter Chloe Lattanzi, with whom she was living in Malibu.
This was not long after a very public heartbreak – the disappearance at sea of her then partner Patrick McDermott – but you would never have known it.
Olivia seemed genuinely delighted when I said my son, then five, had accompanied me for the weekend and she asked to meet him.
The next day when we visited a local market, Olivia took my little boy’s hand as they walked and talked.
She was dressed in camouflage print knickerbockers with diamante-encrusted pockets, and my son looked up at her with wide eyes and asked if she was a soldier.
She laughed and said gently, “No, sweetheart, I’m a singer.” Like I said, all class.
And as I wrote later in Brisbane News – how could I not? – Olivia Newton-John was “the epitome of calm”.
The outpouring of love and grief for her this week is testament not so much to the power of celebrity but to the power of goodness.
She used her influence to help others, including through the Olivia Newton-John Cancer Wellness and Research Centre in Melbourne, and as her adoring husband John Easterling said this week, “in her most difficult times she always had the spirit, the humour and the will power to move things into the light”.
Her Grease co-star Stockard Channing described her as “the essence of summer”.
“Her sunniness, her warmth and her grace are what always come to mind when I think of her … I don’t know if I’ve known a lovelier human being,” she said.
For the millions of people who never met Olivia but are grieving all the same, there’s a valid explanation.
Dara Greenwood, an associate professor of psychology at Vassar College in New York, has researched the attachments we have to celebrities, and says they can be far from superficial.
While attractiveness or status does play a part, Dr Greenwood says kindness, authenticity and humility are the strongest reasons we are drawn to a famous figure.
They’re why we develop genuine feelings for that person; they exude qualities we value and would like to possess ourselves.
Vale Olivia Newton-John, a role model in the truest sense.
Kylie Lang is associate editor of the Courier-Mail
Kylie.lang@news.com.au
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