Final Portrait Page #5

like there's very little hope.

Hope?

Is that what you want? Hope?

- Well, it'd be nice.

- Hm.

We've been doing this for a while now.

Yes, but, you know, for me,

whenever I feel the most hopeful,

that's the time that I give up.

It's like this man I knew

who fell when he was climbing

in the mountains in Stampa.

He was clinging on to this rock face

on a very steep cliff for ages,

right up until the point

that the rescue party came.

About to reach out, grab his hand.

And he let go.

He fell.

He died.

- But you're in no danger of dying.

- No.

But it feels like it sometimes.

I'd like to change a reservation, please.

I thought you said

you would make the deadline.

- I did.

- You know what this means, a deadline?

Yes, I know what a deadline is.

But I tried. He's just... he's so...

I know. You're right.

Here's what I wanna do.

You know when he uses

the big brush with the grey paint

and he undoes

everything he's already done?

Uh-huh.

It's normally after that that he grabs

a black brush with a fine tip

and he starts to construct the head

all over again from nothing

- for the 100th time, right?

- Yeah. Basically, yes.

Then he's onto the highlights

with the ochre

- and the grey and all.

- The grey. Yes.

And then he finishes

with the final touches of white.

- Uh-huh.

- Then he gets that big brush again...

and obliterates

everything he's already done.

Right.

- That's when I'm gonna stop him.

- What do you mean?

I mean I'm gonna try to stop him.

- Okay.

- Yeah.

You're very brave.

I'm gonna take a minute.

- Stretch my back out.

- What are you doing?

- Just... I'm just...

- What? Okay.

Just stretch your back

and then we'll go straight back to work.

Hmm. It's coming along.

It's just beginning

to have real possibilities, huh?

- You think?

- Yes.

Because the drawing is good

and the space around is more solid.

- Very solid.

- Hm.

This is the moment when we could really,

really start something.

True, true.

Well, I'm sorry I have to leave.

Oh, no, no. You have to leave?

Yes, you remember, we talked.

I have to go back to New York.

Oh, well, that's too bad.

Hm. It's too bad. We've gone far.

We could have gone further,

but we've gone far.

- Mm.

- That's something.

Yeah.

Well, really,

I don't know how to thank you.

It's been an honor to pose for you.

Are you out of your mind?

I didn't say I wanted to do it again.

The next day, Giacometti and I

went for a walk and said our goodbyes.

He told me he would have liked

to accompany me to the airport,

but he was hesitant to ever get back

into a car any time soon.

The portrait was shipped

to an exhibition in the States

and I returned to New York

for an extended stay.

Giacometti and I wrote often

but never saw each other again,

as he was to die a short time later.

In his last letter, Giacometti told me

how much he enjoyed painting my portrait

and that he hoped

I would come back soon

so that we could start all over... again.

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