Tuesday morning early. Anouk, Dirk and I arrived in New York last night. In the taxi, we immediately agree that every time someone sings New York by Alicia Keys, a dollar must be put in the pot. I can tell you, there’s already quite a bit in there because when you say New York, this song jumps at you.
A cameraman for Tommy please
I woke up early. Today there is an interview with Elke week word ik ingedeeld om tweefor RTL Boulevard on the program but I still need to arrange a cameraman. When I leave our hotel in Midtown, everyone is already on a roll. Colleague jury member Dirk Kikstra is photographing actress Morgan Saylor from Homeland. Just right outside our door. As if it’s nothing.
On a jet lag
On the bench, which will take on legendary forms throughout the series, are Fred and Anouk with executive producer Femke. They discuss the day ahead. Tonight there is an important shoot scheduled. Dirk will photograph all the girls at Times Square. For the best light effect, we have to wait until it’s dark. And we’re on a jet lag…
Laptop, green juice, skyscraper
At the end of the day, everyone seems to gather a bit in the courtyard of our hotel. A terrace surrounded by intense skyscrapers. Not idyllic, but urban and I happen to love that. Laptop in front of me on the table and a groene sap on the way.
Shoot at Times Square
Evening falls and Anouk and I walk to Times Square. With the risk of sounding like a terrible New York snob, this is a place you usually prefer to avoid. Tourists paradise. But hey, to have a shoot here, late at night among hundreds of people is really the bomb of course. Anouk points out which screen she used to hang on in a rather revealing bikini and Times Square feels grand. And I feel small.
Our girls at Times
One by one, the girls walk up the street. Times Square as your catwalk. You could do worse as a model. The task is to find extras for your shot yourself. And quickly because we don’t have all night. Dirk runs so fast backward and jumps back and forth that his soles are seriously burned the next day. Anouk and I blend in with the tourist crowd, take photos and feel proud.
How much is 34 divided by 6?
Once everyone has been seen and photographed, we enjoy a glass. Midtown is not exactly the neighborhood with the coolest pubs but it’s late, we’re thirsty and excited from the whole spectacle so the Irish Pub down the street is prrrima. Together with reporter Marc, we order a bottle of wine. And the stories-that-can’t-be-shared come. What happens in New York, stays in New York but I can tell you that tears are falling on the dingy bar from laughing. When the bottle is empty, we consider having another glass. Or should we order a bottle because that’s usually much cheaper in New York. A glass is 9 dollars, a bottle 34. From a bottle, you get six glasses. Anouk and I look at each other and ask at exactly the same moment; how much is 34 divided by 6? And then we keep looking at each other for about three minutes hoping the other has the answer. Fresh is an adjective that does not apply to us at the moment.
The flesh is weak
Because the flesh is weak, and we are no longer mathematically strong, another bottle is of course ordered. And more stories follow. And tears. Jetlag? We are not feeling it at all. When we roll into the hotel lobby at two in the morning in a noticeable state, there’s a charming man there. ’Anouk Voorveld? Is that really you?“
Anouk straightens her back. It’s talent scout Michael Sanka, one of the people who was at the cradle of her success as a model and, not entirely coincidentally, our guest judge for tomorrow’s elimination. We chat politely and then really, really, really go to bed.
Vergeet je me nog?
The next day in our studio in Redhook Brooklyn, I shake Michael’s hand again. “I’m May. We met last night.” “Yes I remember you, dear May,” is his reply. “But I am so surprised you still remember me.” Oof. Swallow.
It became one of the most fun eliminations ever.
