Natalie Portman: a love letter to Val d'Orcia

The article is part of a series of love letters to Italy, written by great actors and directors. In her letter Natalie Portman tells of the period she spent in Tuscany in summer 2014 with her family. The actress had already been several times to our country, for work and study, exploring various cities from north to south, but nevertheless, spending an entire month in Tuscany has unexpectedly and pleasantly surprised her.

The family had decided to stay in Val d'Orcia, renting a farmhouse in the countryside near Pienza. Initially the Portman was discouraged by the heat of a sultry summer day, thinking that she had chosen the wrong period to visit our beautiful region, but it was enough for her to take a ride at sunset to fall in love with the Val d'Orcia and discover a life unexpected that took them back in time for the duration of their vacation. Here are some passages of the letter.

" The three of us traveled by car along the Val d'Orcia at sunset. The light and haze, and the color of the incandescence of the day that was dispersing, prepared us for the journey in time we were about to do. We drove to Pienza, the town closest to our hot house. We walked slowly along the alleys crossed by the strings of the laundry put out to hang, moving aside to make room, along the road, for a grandmother with her grandchildren, the children on bicycles, as if they had come out of a De Sica film. We soon arrived in the square, a large trapeze-shaped space with a beautiful church on one side, and a small bar on the other. It was full of people. The Italians had not left the country, they re-emerged in the evening. The children played soccer in the square, laughing and screaming in that beautiful language. Our son joined instantly, thanks to the universal language of childhood: football. We drank wine at the bar on the side of the square. The owner let us in to show us his local treasures, and our son was free to play, safe from harm. The sky was illuminated by bright and rotating circles that a merchant sold on the corner of the square and which the children threw up towards the stars.

Time had equally stopped and expanded. We felt like we were transported to another era, where families still lived in the space of the same four blocks, the kids could play freely in the streets, and the grandmother was the most loved person in the family, together with the children. Unknown people struck our son's cheek, played ball with him, so that we could have dinner seated, and they said in Italian words that, I'm almost certain, meant: your son is the most beautiful, intelligent, fun child we ever met. But I don't speak Italian, so it's just a reasoned estimate.

We went to that square every evening for a month. I realize now that the Italians have learned to dominate time, our greatest resource and also the most threatening enemy. Those evenings seemed to last an eternity, and I felt like we were in 1952. [...] And that month seemed like a whole life. And I never wanted to go back home."