Slideshow of The Gates (at flickr)
“Is this it?” That’s the question that pops into your head as you approach Central Park. All this fuss for these orange flags draped all over the place?
Wander in further though and it starts to make sense. The landscape opens up and you start to see the pattern and repetition of The Gates and how they play off the environment. The Gates are there to echo and compliment, not dominate, the park and the skyline that surrounds it. The Gates rise and fall with the land, just like the trees and the skyline. The Gates curve and bend along the walkways. The Gates reflect off the water.
This is not a main course, it’s a sublime wine pairing. This is not a lead melody, it’s a tasteful harmony.
After a while, The Gates actually recede into the background. And then you’re left with the people soaking it in and trying to figure it out. And that may be the best part: the crowd, the faces, the kids. The thousands of people throbbing through the park make it feel as if you’re at Disneyland. But this crowd is not here to see an amusement park or a sporting event or a special effects-filled movie. This crowd is here to take a walk in the park. In the middle of February. To see art!? Crazy.
Hats off to Christo & Jeanne-Claude for getting it done. How many people have the chutzpah and knowledge to pull something like this off? How many people would hammer away at the city bureaucracy for 20+ years to try and make it happen? And after all that time and effort, how many artists would realize the value of making the installation so brief and fleeting? Impressive.
And as for that orange, is it possible that the idea for the color came to Christo while he was chowing on a hot dog? A little ketchup + a little mustard = saffron.
How many people would hammer away at the city bureaucracy for 20+ years to try and make it happen?M
The only reason it happened was because of Mayor Bloomberg. He's friends with them and said "yes" instantly. So it's not so much a matter of pounding away at the city until they give in as much as it's about knowing the right people. That in itself is an accomplishment, but let's not get all carried away here.
What impresses me most is how they funded this entirely themselves. $20MM. Very impressive.
Ugh, everthing I hate about NYC is embodied in this display. Disruptive, loud, self-serving, over the top, resource intensive...
I've never been to central park and will I'm unlikely to do so before the display/sculpture/shower curtains are removed. However, from all the pictures I've seen, which is a lot on the blogs and sites I read, they are in an awful shade of orange. The sort of organe that slides and swings are painted in our parks here (South London). I've always thought it garish against the green and it appears so here, especially as they are so much like swing frames in appearance. I guess it works a little better on the colour bleached plateau of Tibet.
The way in which the curtains follow the rhythm and contours of the park has been much praised but as the paths and rivers define it's course anyhow, I fail to see how this isn't obvious. As for the overall effect, I think it's bold but unimpressive for the money.
I'm not in any way dismissive of various modern sculture projects, but I preferred the more classical subtle man reading a book in the flooded crypt, the people standing idly at Brixton station, and other more permanent and less vain oddities to brighten up our landscape.
Don't call it orange! It's saffron!
It looks like construction orange to me. Which makes sense, it's already all over the city.
Yeah, I don't particularly get it, either. But like the egg/jellybean/thing in Millennium Park here in Chicago, it gets people walking around outside, which isn't entirely a bad thing. And I know that the money used to finance this project could feed a lot of homeless people, but Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Oprah Winfrey and everyone else who's sitting on hundreds of millions of dollars could do the same thing. That's not to say that these people aren't charitable at all or aren't charitable enough, it's just a point. The money didn't come from the city.
I'm heading to New York this weekend to see The Gates in person. I always said I'd make it to a Christo installation eventually, and this is a lot easier to reach than, say, those wrapped islands or the Reichstag.
As a Chicago resident, I've seen firsthand what a little exciting public art can do for a city. First, it's always really hard to judge until you see it in person--scale and context are everything. But anyway, good public art gets people outside, gets them interacting with the work and each other in the process. And Matt's totally right--kids plus public art will soften even the hardest heart.
Also, I'm going to guess that that "saffron" is pretty jarring against the still-barren trees in Central Park right now. Good Lord, how many February days have I walked down my street and seriously worried that the world was never going to regain color? That I was going to be trapped in these grey doldrums forever? The Gates seems like it might be nothing more than a couple of wacky Europeans self-funding a project designed to make a bunch of rundown, winter-weary New Yorkers smile. And that sounds great to me.
I haven't been to see them, but after looking at a few photos I realized what's neat about them: they call attention to things around them. When I realized that the Gates themselves are not the subject of the Gates, the color choice also made much more sense: it's a color that doesn't really appear in the surroundings at all, it's not a very natural color, and so it draws a bright line around the natural beauty that is already there to see.
The Gates are a frame for the Park.
The question is, will people's appreciation for the art remain after the frame is removed?
I don't get it, but then again I don't get why you dumbasses voted for Hillary Clinton.
Jeff Gordon rules.
although i do agree that the money spent on this could have gone to better use, your pictures are lovely.
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My favourite)
Whatever furls your fabric. I don't see the appeal, but most modern public art displays seem more about the artist than the art. In the 1930's unknown stonemasons and metalworkers labored for months to sculpt obscure details on building facades far above street level that almost no one would ever notice. Now artists like Christo become world famous for throwing tarps over trees and hanging curtains in parks.