Robert Redford - Michael Feeney Callan [245]
Redford dismisses the idea of involvement in Middle East politics but acknowledges the potency of film emerging from the nexus of modern Arabia. He was well aware of the contrary opinions of the Emirates’ society, aware of the implications of association with a cultural tradition infamous for its downgrading of women, where, even today, women are airbrushed from newspaper photographs. “Articulating opinions, disseminating, debating: that’s what film is about for me. Today the whole region of the Middle East is the crucible. Much of the future—all our futures—will be decided in this area.”
Back in the Sundance boardroom, skepticism prevailed, and Redford buckled down for a fight. “My sense is that the resistance will go on. Sundance needs nourishment.”
Sundance, of course, was more than an arts principle. It was a place. In his diary, speculating on the importance of the canyon, he wrote: “For years I searched for a religious concept that would fit. Nothing ever did. All concepts, even though momentarily satisfying, fell victim to resistance. And resistance became reality. Then, some thirty years ago, I realized it had been underfoot all the while: it was nature. It contains no politics and no corruption of power. It is constant.”
Not long before, to consecrate its continuance, Redford had instructed Julie Mack to survey all the Sundance holdings, which spread over more than six thousand acres of meadow oakbrush, chokecherry and aspen forest, to define a conservation easement of almost one thousand acres, which would be the Redford Family Nature and Wildlife Preserve, entrusted to the nation in perpetuity. This symbolic gesture, perceived as a tax break maneuver by the cynical, was as solid a marker as the Promontory Summit transcontinental railroad golden spike. At the dedication ceremony held at the high vantage of Smith Corner, Jamie told the assembled friends and supporters: “I know that I speak for my sisters when I say that of all the things [my father] provided to us, the most important are these values of conservation. We hope to carry them and pass them on to our children. Any of you who knew me as a teenager, tearing up the canyon on my motorcycle, putting my guitar amp on the deck, trying to see if people could hear me across the other side of the mountain, might have wondered what was going to happen to these lands. Well, I’m here to tell you some good news: nothing is going to happen to them, absolutely nothing other than what geological time and nature have in store.”
The fact that the family’s affection for Sundance had never wavered was the source of greatest pride of all to Redford. Shauna visited less, but her heart was still there. Jamie had a voice in management, always ready to engage in boardroom disputes and come down on the side of continuance. Amy spent Christmas in the A-frame with Matt and her new baby. “So much of our childhood and, I suppose, our shared dreams are in this place,” says Amy. “My memories are ones of compassion and unity and all that could be achieved by staying in harmony with the elements. But it has changed. Once, Sundance was a place of meditation and retreat. Now it is the forefront of a mission.”
Growing up, Jamie says, his father often seemed to him like a spirit tethered by the longest, thinnest thread to planet Earth. Still, in the force of his tenacity, he had become Jamie’s greatest influence: “In my darkest days on the transplant waiting list anticipating death, my father’s courage kept me going.” Ironically, Jamie was now his father’s role model.