Tuesday, December 9, 2025

New York Times Outtake Photos

 




                                          Photographed By:  Devon Oktar Yalkin





Kristen Stewart talks with Esquire

 



 Photographed By: Adir Abergel

Kristen Stewart has been acting since the age of nine and was a teen herself when she starred in the Twilight films. She’s made her feature directing and writing debut with The Chronology of Water, an adaptation of Lidia Yuknavitch’s 2011 memoir. In April, Stewart tied the knot with her longtime girlfriend, screenwriter Dylan Meyer. This interview was conducted on November 2.

What we create needs to come from the things that we want.

We need to design our own desire instead of being told how the fuck to feel by movies that are never changing and always the same.

I have figuratively broken teeth learning that shoving into fear instead of backing away from it is key. I try to let this seep into how I spend literally all my time.

I found that battle cry within myself, knowing that it is an echo of centuries and centuries of women that have needed to pick each other up.

A real core-base activation piece for me was reading The Chronology of Water when I was a lot younger, in a time where I was in service of other people’s stories as an actor. Even though I’ve been lucky enough to make work that feels like it has a sense of freedom, I’ve worked in an industry for a long time that definitely does not uplift.

There are reasons why people have a hard time articulating certain things. There’s no room for it, or it’s not encouraged, or it’s steeped in shame or embarrassment. It’s tough to be anyone trying to find their own voice.

Those screaming voices that you keep blocked up in your body feel a lot better when they come out.

I’m really ruminating on system breakage lately. My own systems. All that fun stuff that comes with seeing reality breaking all around us. You realize it’s up for grabs.

“No passion is darkness.” That’s what Pablo Larraín said. He directed me in Spencer and helped me blast through some fear on the set of Chronology. He helped me make a disruptive but ultimately lifesaving decision.

“Making a movie is an act of love” is another thing he told me.

All memories are so physical. It’s kind of cool, and it’s a bit daunting to know that the things that happen to you will never really be processed out of your body. They get to live in you.

I can roll with the punches but also not be somebody who casually lets people that I love and care about off the hook.

What have I learned from married life? Power in numbers.

It’s so nice to have a family. It’s so nice to not be an unmoored individual. Dylan came into my life and I immediately was like, “It’s so important to handpick and curate the people that surround you.” Dylan just does not suffer fools. I may not always seem like it, but I really am kind of a “nice guy.”

It’s just bolstering to be with someone that reminds you that your life is in your hands.

What makes someone attractive? Hunger. And I mean that in every way. When someone wants a lot. Openly. It also means being nice, because you just get more with real honey.

Mean people suck. I can smell it. So gross.

A big thing that makes me happy is reading out loud with my wife and pets. East of Eden, Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter. To share them outside of yourself is salve.

A small thing that makes me happy is waking up before anyone and having an hour or two. I am so with people all the time. I’m an Aries, so it’s rare that I’m not in a group. I like to steal time and remind myself to be alone.

I care about getting better at playing golf. But that is a lifelong and kind of yo-yo experience. Sometimes I’m absolutely incredible, and other times it’s like I’ve never hit a ball in my life.

Party tricks: I can juggle. I can blow a really good smoke ring. I can roll a really mean joint—fast.

There is a sort of oppressive and stifling experience that women have at the energetic hands of a lot of different men. But it is absolutely not everyone.

I have one biological brother, but I’ve grown up with just a slew of lovely and sweet but bamboozling young men. I will always be able to laugh at the kind of enraging and infuriating unawareness that boys are all about.

I feel my absolute best around guys that I could say anything to. I want to be homies; I want to be friends. It’s really nice when you’re around someone that you can completely relax with, because you know that you can’t hurt them with your differences.

I just want everyone to be as close as they possibly can. 



Kristen Stewart attends the San Francisco International Film Festival Awards Night

 
















 























Saturday, December 6, 2025

Kristen Stewart talks with the New York Times

 



                             Photographed by Devin Oktar Yalkin for The New York Times.


When it comes to artists and public figures, there are few things more compelling than when the people we thought we knew show us something different. It’s not an easy feat, but Kristen Stewart has managed it more than once.


Her first big shift was professional: Stewart shot to stardom in the late 2000s and early 2010s as an ingénue lead in big-budget Hollywood hits like the five “Twilight” films and “Snow White and the Huntsman.” But by her mid-20s, she largely rejected acting in popcorn movies in favor of subtler and more emotionally varied independent work, including two films with the great French director Olivier Assayas (“Clouds of Sils Maria” from 2014 and “Personal Shopper” from 2016), as well as “Spencer” (2021), for which she earned an Academy Award nomination for her performance as Princess Diana.

She has undergone a pretty profound transformation offscreen too. During her blockbuster days, Stewart, who is now 35, was a frequent target of the tabloid press, both for her relationships — notably with her “Twilight” co-star Robert Pattinson — and also for her often sullen-seeming public appearances. Flash forward to 2025, and Stewart, who publicly came out in 2017 and married the screenwriter and producer Dylan Meyer this year, has harnessed some entirely different energy. She has embraced her status as a millennial queer icon and also come to see promotional duties not merely as a chore to suffer through but, as I think you’ll see from our interview, opportunities for connection and exploration.

Now, Stewart is changing again, directing her first full-length feature, “The Chronology of Water.” The film, which is in select theaters now, is an adaptation of Lidia Yuknavitch’s memoir of the same name. Imogen Poots stars as Lidia, a competitive swimmer who fights through a series of traumas on her way to becoming the writer she needs to be. It’s a provocative movie — formally and in its subject matter — and one that raises questions about womanhood, sexuality, excess and the stories we choose to tell about ourselves. Those remain questions with which Stewart herself is still eagerly wrestling.

You’ve been trying to make “The Chronology of Water” for close to 10 years, and it’s a memoir that involves a lot of heavy stuff: addiction, child abuse, the loss of an infant. When you first read the book, what was it about that material that made you feel like this was a story that you had to tell? It was the way that she told it; it was the fact of the telling. There’s an invitation in the text to excavate your own memories. But for me, it’s much less about the things that happened to Lidia and much more about how she reorients those things and writes them down. Just the idea of diaristic writing by women being criticized for being selfish and narcissistic — it’s like, anytime you start talking about yourself, it becomes this tired, pathetic, messy thing. And I wanted to make something tired, pathetic and messy that also felt exuberant and encouraging.

So you’re saying that your interest in the material wasn’t as much about the particulars of Lidia’s experience as it was about the way that her writing invited you to examine the particulars of your own experience. I wonder if you can make that concrete a little — As soon as you start making those things specific, you completely dilute the point. In the beginning of the movie, we show a series of images of a woman bleeding at various times in her life. There’s a way that blood sticks to the grout before it runs down the drain that indicates that it did not come from a laceration or a cut; it came from an orifice. That is a very specific experience, but it is also general enough for everyone to insert their lives into the movie if you are a woman or if you have ever loved a woman or heard her speak about what it feels like to bleed from the place that hurts the most but creates life. So if the question is like, Did I have an abusive relationship with my father? No. Do I resent him when he comments on my appearance? Yes.

This is a naïve question, but why does it take eight years to make a movie like this? It’s not a giant special-effects movie. It doesn’t have a bunch of locations all over the world. I had to do a lot of kicking and screaming. Most of the time it’s difficult to pay for something that doesn’t have an equatable success story, something that makes you go, “This is gonna be great because we’ve seen it before.” But this had to be the first thing I said, because it’s about saying things. It took a long time because it is unsavory, unpalatable, because it’s about violation and repossession — and also how fun it is to watch someone do that, because she is a force. She’s like a tsunami. And also there’s a sexuality in it that feels delicious.

In a way, you’re talking about Lidia’s sense of abandon. That could be sexual abandon, creative abandon, abandon when it comes to drinking or drug use, abandon with relationships. I wonder, given that you’re a public figure, if it’s hard for you to feel abandon? I don’t self-censor. I don’t fixate on how things are going to land on other people, because I’m not smart enough.

You think it’s a matter of intelligence? Some people are mastermind crazy control freaks, and I just don’t have that. I think those people are going to die young. It would take years off your life to try and think in those terms. I’ve been lucky enough that I fell on my face in public. A nice healthy amount of humiliation is really humbling, and it makes you realize: That first scratch? Who cares? After that first scratch, you go: OK, crash the car. We can fix it.

But the way that people who don’t know you have a relationship with you — it’s a very rare mode of human existence. What’s it like? I mean, sometimes you find yourself on something that doesn’t really know what it’s saying. And then the subsequent conversation is confused and ambiguous and becomes very sell-y. It feels like you’re just a capitalist cog, which we all are.

Speak for yourself! Hey, go buy a ticket to “The Chronology of Water”! Recently, I was working with a director that was talking about an actress who was thinking about whether or not they should do a film, and they were like, “Well, I think the market right now is. …” I don’t think I’ve ever said the word “market,” unless I was going to buy some oranges. That is just how I function.

                                                              Video Interview: 
                               
 




                                                           

Kristen Stewart on the cover of MARFA Party Magazine

 









                                            Photographed By: Zoë Ghertner 


                                     Source: https://teamkristensite.blogspot.com/

Kristen Stewart talks with Hollywood Reporter Magazine

 


                                 Photographed By: THOMAS LAISNÉ/CONTOUR/GETTY IMAGES


Kristen Stewart loves to cook, but on this Thanksgiving eve, the last thing she wants to serve up is, well, a turkey. Which is why she’s been spending much of the day hovering over a desktop rather than a stovetop, reviewing footage from her long-in-the-making directorial debut, The Chronology of Water, a sexy, occasionally bloody, often elliptical drama adapted from Lidia Yuknavitch’s memoir about a writer navigating trauma, addiction and the long, messy process of becoming an artist.


“People are like, ‘Oh, everything will get done at some point,’ ” she says over a Zoom call from the Los Angeles house she shares with her wife, filmmaker Dylan Meyer. “But I don’t think that’s true.”


It sounds a little strange considering that the film she is so meticulously fussing over premiered at Cannes way back in May — and opens theatrically in just a few days, on Dec. 5. The former Twilight star, now 35, laughs at the chaotic timeline, but it doesn’t slow her down. In her mind, the project is still very much a work in progress. “I want to put an hour back into the movie,” she says with a grin, presumably half-joking.


Stewart says she’s wanted to direct from the moment she first ventured onto a film set — which, in her case, was practically from birth. Her father was a stage manager; her mother was a script supervisor who later directed. They hauled her to sets throughout her childhood, where she absorbed shot lists and camera setups long before she understood what any of it meant.


At age 10, she landed her first screen role as Patricia Clarkson’s tomboy daughter in 2001’s The Safety of Objects, then spent the next two decades pinballing through the full spectrum of Hollywood fame: first as the mopey teenager in love with an even mopier vampire in the blockbuster Twilight franchise, then diving into work with auteurs like Olivier Assayas and Kelly Reichardt — including an Oscar-nominated turn as Princess Diana in Spencer and a César Award for her performance in The Clouds of Sils Maria (becoming the first American ever to win the French honor) — gradually carving out a reputation as one of the most adventurous actors of her generation.


Through it all, though, she says she’s been quietly running a parallel track, studying her directors — everyone from Catherine Hardwicke to Pablo Larraín — in preparation for the moment she’d step behind the camera herself. “There are certain actors that don’t know where the camera is,” she notes, “but I’ve never been unaware of the process.”


She seems to have been particularly aware of it during her Twilight years. Stewart recalls admiring Hardwicke’s ability to inject personality into a massive commercial machine — “That [first] Twilight movie is hers and reflects her; Catherine accomplished that, hands down,” she says — and noticing how quickly that personal stamp was squeezed as the franchise accelerated. “Being able to withstand and organize that many opinions, and still make something that feels like yours, is near impossible to do,” she says. “With so many voices in the room and with so much expectation, nothing feels personal.”


Stewart wonders whether sequel directors including Chris Weitz and Bill Condon “actually felt like they fully directed those movies,” adding that while working with them, she “felt bad for them and proud of them.” Their later Twilight films, she notes, “had personality, in spite of a really stifled process. They feel almost overtly, bizarrely, spastically themselves.


“You need to have an incredibly thirsty, hungry, brazen, deplorably narrow drive,” she goes on, mulling over the profession she’s finally joined. “You look at that and you get jealous of it as an actor. So then you go, ‘I’d like to form my own version of that.’ ”


As for directing Chronology, Stewart didn’t so much land that job as drag it into existence. She’d long been drawn to Yuknavitch’s memoir and pitched the author immediately after reading it in 2017, then spent years piecing together the financing. “People have a lot to say about how you do that,” she says. “It’s fucking hard, especially if you’re a young — when I say young, I mean inexperienced — actress who’s just demanded that she start making movies.”


Once she finally got the money together, actually shooting the film proved just as consuming. Stewart describes the production as a stretch of near total immersion — long days, little separation and the constant sense that she was guarding a very private vision from the usual swirl of outside opinions. She watched scenes back compulsively, trying to align each moment with the movie she’d been carrying around in her head for years. “All my initial impulses are so evident in the final product,” she says.


The actress at the center of the film — Imogen Poots, best known for her roles in 2007’s 28 Weeks Later and 2015’s Green Room — recalls that Stewart was always pressing for something deeper. “She’s on the quest, on the hunt … for more knowledge, more ways to identify something,” she says.


Even after its splashy Cannes launch, backed by critical acclaim, Stewart struggled to find distribution. “Everyone was like, ‘I cannot sell this,’ ” she says. “Everyone was really focusing on the negative.” To her, the material wasn’t “tough” so much as tactile and emotional, a sensorial character study. The small distributor The Forge eventually stepped in and is now mounting a scrappy awards campaign on the film’s behalf. “I look at this whole season as this big cruise ship, and we’re these Finding Nemo turtles, riding the little wave of the ship,” Stewart says. “At some point people are going to turn around and be like, ‘Hey, what are you doing here?’ ”


The film’s visual and thematic intensity, Stewart believes, speaks for itself — its “lush and girly and soft” textures, its vivid emotional logic, its grainy close-ups and to-hell-with-linearity narrative style. But the road to that point was longer in part because she refused to sand down any of its edges. “When you’re a woman working in this business, you make your perspective a little different in order to be heard — you twist yourself into a palatable shape. We are all walking pretzels,” she says. “Then [women] are shoved to the sidelines and completely tokenized in order to make people feel better about their guilt and their shame. And anytime a woman says something — if it lands — there are people coming in to take credit for that.”


In Pablo Larraín’s Spencer, for which she was Oscar nominated, Stewart plumbed the depths of Princess Diana’s psyche. Pablo Larrain/Neon/Courtesy Everett Collection


A version of that frustration resurfaced last month when Stewart delivered a fiery keynote at the Academy Women’s Luncheon — a furious dismantling of the myth of post-#MeToo progress — which went viral for a single word. “I knew as soon as I used the word ‘angry,’ that would be the pull quote,” she says now. Her larger point — that she isn’t “grateful to the boys’ club business model that pretends to want to hang out with us while siphoning our resources and belittling our true perspectives” — was more complicated, and more personal.


Stewart has little illusion that the larger system will shift anytime soon. Even so, her next job drops her squarely inside it: She’s prepping to star in her TV debut, The Challenger, an Amazon limited series about Sally Ride, the tennis champion turned astronaut. Stewart seems genuinely excited about the six-month shoot, if slightly bemused to be stepping back into a large-scale corporate production. “We’ll see how it goes,” she says. “These people and producers are not reptiles. But I am a little scared.”


She’s also eager to get back to directing. Her next project, she says, will be deliberately tiny: “I need 10 people to help make this movie with me in Los Angeles, and all the actors are my friends, and I don’t need to make any money — we can make it for absolutely nothing in four to six weeks. We will make this in the dead of night and nobody will know it. Fucking try to shut us down — absolutely not! That’s the way I want to make my next movie.”


It’s the opposite of a studio undertaking, which is precisely why she wants to do it.


But first she has to let go of The Chronology of Water — which is proving to be a decidedly difficult thing to do.


She’s still got the film’s images pinned up on the wall of her home office. This morning, as she was assembling a zine for her cast and crew, filled with unused images and moments from shooting, her computer crashed, then the power went out — almost as if the universe were hinting that it was time to move on. But she just relocated to another room, which at least on Zoom looks borderline monastic: A large upholstered chair and an art deco vanity appear to be the only furniture. As she talks, she absent-mindedly adjusts her Dodgers-themed Marriage Skateshop cap, a gesture that makes her look both focused and a little restless.


Or maybe just fixated. She may not be able to splice that extra hour into the film — or, this close to release, even an extra minute — but she’s still cooking up last-minute plans for Chronology of Water. She has visions of turning every screening into a kind of gallery, a way to immerse audiences in the film’s emotional logic. “I want to create this installation piece so you feel engulfed by the movie when you enter and when you exit,” she explains.


But she also knows, down deep, that she needs to stop “shredding this movie by the frame, down to its bolts,” as she puts it. “I want to make my next movie so badly. So I need to stop eating this one over and over and over and over.”


Stewart originally shot to fame in 2008’s Twilight as Bella Swan, opposite Robert Pattinson as Edward Cullen. FlixPix/Alamy Stock Photo


This story appeared in the Dec. 3 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. 

Source: https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-features/kristen-stewart-interview-chronology-of-water-1236438575/



Kristen Stewart attends the LA BAFTA Tea Party

  Sources:   Adoring Kstewart Fan  &  Team Kristen Site