Go here for more............ http://www.math.sunysb.edu/~noun/cristos-gates/
Posted on 06/12/2005 4:21:54 PM PDT by Republicanprofessor
Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s Gates stir all kinds of associations, but perhaps the most important thing is that they became an occasion for the city of New York to unite. They spawned a grand, gala, inspirational event: Happy crowds came to witness the first unfurling, Mayor Bloomberg seemed uncommonly emotional, and they generated a good deal of business. It may seem cynical to mention the last—much touted as proof of Bloomberg’s business acumen—but it points to the fact that New York, which has been under economic siege since 9/11, once again was in the black. Thus art’s catalytic and rallying power, also evident in the restoration and transformation of once dead neighborhoods such as SoHo and Chelsea into glamorous places— both now have the most expensive storefronts and apartments in the city, according to the New York Times. The glamour may have to do with the money excitement art is generating these days, but it also signals art’s magical appeal, its wish-fulfilling potential, at least for those with high-end wishes.
One can ask why the Gates became such a festive social event—over and beyond the hype publicizing them—and the answer might be that it has to do with Central Park itself, a kind of garden of Eden in the asphalt jungle. Anything placed in that sanctuary, the triumph of Robert Law Olmstead (and the model for Robert Smithson’s “dialectical landscape,” as he called it), automatically becomes indeed central and sacred. I grew up in New York, and I vividly remember the outcry when Tavern on the Green was built: It crassly and commercially impinged upon sacred park ground. When Bloomberg first allowed sculpture to be installed in Central Park, which he did for the next to last Whitney Biennial, the outcry had more to do with the triviality of the sculpture than the violation of the park. (Roxy Paine’s fake tree made the front page of the Times, with a picture above the fold—what greater success could there be?)
The Whitney sculptures were few and far between, and discreetly placed on the periphery of the park, but the Gates took it over, which is part of the complaint made against them. That was quickly squelched by the fact that they were temporary, consisting of 7,500 site-specific gates, all prefabricated and disposable (their materials will in fact be recycled). The larger complaint had to do with the fact that they were an eyesore: Their uniform, blatant orange was at odds with the intricate diversity of colors in Central Park, even in the depths of winter. (It snowed heavily a day after the Gates were raised, making their orange seem all the more out of place. They also looked flimsier and depleted, less majestic and arousing than they did when they first appeared, in the relentless whiteness.) There’s no question that they were startling, both for their orange and their artificiality. They were monumental architectural constructions, at odds with the organic nature in the park, though much of the park itself is a carefully constructed landscape, built to blueprint specifications, and thus not exactly wild nature.
But the question is, what did they monumentalize? Their own ephemerality, suggested by the fact that the gates blew in the wind and reflected the changing light. Their orange in fact suggested the sun. (Some people read the orange as saffron, the color of a Buddhist robe, which would make it all the more sacred.) They were made of translucent, lightweight fabric, instantly registering the movement of luminous atmosphere. Whatever effect that had on the eye—and I thought they were a joy to see, all the more so when they were moving—the Gates functioned as a kind of seismograph attuned to and partaking in the most subtle aspects of the environment. They made tangible and material what seems intangible and immaterial. We usually take light and atmosphere for granted, routinely noting their seemingly spontaneous activity and effect on our moods, but Christo and Jeanne-Claude made them and their subtlety apparent through the Gates.
I am suggesting that they seemed peculiarly impressionist, that they carried into three-dimensional space what the impressionist painters conveyed in two-dimensional space. Christo’s tendency toward colorful impressionism, his use of large planes of uniform color, was already evident in his early Sonoma County Running Fence, and radiantly explicit in his later Florida Keys piece, which used brightly colored planes of fabric to surround or wrap various islands. Whatever the environmental significance of these pieces—like Running Fence, the Gates vigorously march across the natural environment like exclamation points, emphatically declaring its uniqueness and untouchability (it must be preserved forever against predatory developers)—the esthetic point they make is that art is no more than a passing sensation arousing a transient emotion. The sensation and emotion may be intense, but they are limited in time, as both Running Fence and Gates implied (arranged repetitively, like a serial minimalist work, their modular planes evoke infinite time through spatial extension). Art is made at great cost, human as well as economic (the Gates cost some $21 million and was two decades in the making), for a momentary sensory and emotional effect. This is a basic modern idea, conveying both the dubious and exhilarating character of art, its ecstatically stimulating self-doubt, as it were. If, as has been much argued, modern art is split between the pursuit of spontaneity, which is invariably short-lived, and the search for a new monumentality, symbolized by constructivism, then the Gates constructed and monumentalized transient spontaneity. They accomplished a postmodern task: They seamlessly integrated avant-garde opposites. And they did so in a deceptively simple way that belies the sophisticated consciousness of art history that informed them. To dismiss them as spectacle—a kind of American extravaganza, on par with the half-time entertainment at a football game, as one writer sniffed (another dismissed them as facile decoration, crowd-pleasing art lite)—is to miss their art historical importance. There was undoubtedly a showy flair to them, but also an elusive, whimsical joie de vivre.
They were also quite sober in their systematic character; they may have looked soft, but they were tough-minded. A gate is a passage between outside and inside, but these gates go from outside to outside, becoming a momentary inside when one stands underneath it. I am suggesting that to experience them, whether moving through them or deliberately standing still underneath one of them, is to have a spiritual encounter. I suggest that what Christo and Jeanne-Claude achieved was very rare: the creation of a collective spiritual experience rather than the individualized one that works of art, traditional or modern, are supposed to afford. The Gates are a rare achievement that must be the envy of other environmental installation artists. Their works may look more precious, and may be permanent installations, but their appeal tends to be limited to the unhappy few: perpetually dissatisfied art snobs, always on the lookout for the new and unique but upset and dismissive when everyone else enjoys it. Happily, the Gates are a long way from Richard Serra’s Tilted Arc, which the New York public disliked and got rid of—a different kind of transience.
Some of this is a rather erudite article (especially in the middle), but I found the last paragraph very insightful. Kuspit mentions the spiritual and healing qualities of the Gates, especially in contrast to other controversial, and less successful, siteworks like Serra's Tilted Arc, also in NYC.
Plus it's been a slow day for art; time for a post.
Art ping.
Let Sam Cree and I know if you want on or off this list.
Let me know if you want on or off this list.
I didn't write this, but I feel much the same way. Plus we'll do Christo and Smithson and others later on.
If you want to read what I wrote about Christo, check out this link.
http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/1348194/posts
My appologies to those for whom this is a repetition.
If they want a gate, let them put up a Japanese torii. Then at least it would be beautiful to look at and well made.
They attracted a lot of attention, and everyone seemed to enjoy them
Go here for more............ http://www.math.sunysb.edu/~noun/cristos-gates/
I know many FReepers are skeptical. I just wish everyone could have walked through them. Minds might have been changed.
Did you visit them?
No, I didn't
Hi, professor, thanks much for this!
I must be obtuse, I note now that on you first "Christo Gates" thread, I made several posts, at least one of which was answered by you.
I generally agree with the elegant final paragraph in this essay, though I would qualify my agreement by saying that, IMO, interior decorating is a similar art, and similarly "spriritual." Same goes for commercial art.
Anyhow, I too saw the Gates, made a side trip on the way home from a visit with daugher in Syracuse, to Manhattan to see the Sorollas at the Hispanic Society, 155 St, and caught the Christos by mistake. Walked all the way across Central Park through them. Liked them, this is unavoidable, I think. True art. Good art.
Meanwhile, am somewhat tired after an overnight trip to Key Largo with wife dedicated to relaxing...will try to post tomorrow.
Very nice photo. I thought those things gave an almost medieval flavor to Central Park, if that is at all possible.
Check out the link. It's a slide show. Just wait and the pic will change every 10 sec
That's excellent!
Unfortunately, I did not get to experience the Gates...and that is what I find so profound about Christos. His art is so tangible. I took my boys to see the Umbrellas that were set up on the mountains north of LA a few years ago. I remember driving thru the exhibition seeing the yellow fabric looking like poppies in a field. It was breathtaking. We pulled off the freeway and walked up to one of the structures where we took many pictures and spoke with a docent who told us about the twin exhibition in Japan at the time only with blue fabric. I really liked the Umbrellas and wish they had been a permanent part of the drive to LA.
Glad you got to see the Gates and felt much the same way.
I have a friend who's a ceramicist, or potter, depending on how elite you are. She loves making "crafts" because then people can hold her "art" for each day, for drinking coffee and the like. If architecture can be spiritual, I guess the decoration of the interior can be as well. Sometimes I think interior decoration may be too materialistic, if you have to change your decor every few years to keep up with the Joneses. But if you hone your living environment (particularly with artworks on the walls) to reflect your inner self, then that's great. (But what do I know?)
I think that's incredible that you saw the Umbrellas. I always thought it was a solid umbrella; he used fabric then too?! Can you tell me any more? Give me more details. I've always been least fascinated by that project, maybe because the umbrellas seemed big, heavy and cumbersome. But maybe I was all wrong. Enlighten me!
That's what I was trying to say - the first part of the above...the "what do you know" part is that clearly you know plenty.
IMO, though, furniture, carpets, and all the implements and utensils that are in our homes qualify as art too. We have an old Eames chair as well as an old Knoll, plus various and sundry midcentuy pieces that we accumulated over time, I understand a lot of that stuff is in the MOMA in New York. I'll probably try to go there (have never been) next time I'm in Manhattan. My SIL, who lives there, advises me that one can avoid the $18 admission fee by going Thursday night, when it's free.
Aalto vase
" have a friend who's a ceramicist, or potter, depending on how elite you are."
In figure drawing class the other day I referred to "composition" as layout. The instructor had the grace to find humor in that.
Oh, yes, the Eames chair and old Knoll are DEFINITELY art! I'm impressed. (Most of what we have has been in the family....luckily, they had good taste to collect 50 years ago what are nice "antiques" today. So we have family history in the objects as well as "class." It's nice to see the same furniture in old pictures.)
I also saw the umbrella intallations in CA. They were basically giant beach umbrellas, about 20' tall. They were the same golden saffron color as the seasonal poppies that blanket the same site in early spring.
I think I would have liked it better if it had been co-ordinated with the poppy bloom, instead of the sere fall. It seemed very sparse, perhaps overly ambitious against the natural features. I've liked other Christo stuff better.
Here is some more midcentury art that you can't hang on a wall except in image form:
The E-8, intoduced 1949, and the E-6 from the 30's, by EMD. I understand that they are examples of Art Deco design. I have always loved them and thought them beautiful, in any case. When I was a child, the family rode on both trains pictured.
I saw one other Christo "installation," if that is the correct word? The draped islands in Miami some years ago. They didn't come off as well as the Gates, IMO, but they did cause tremendous excitement here.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.