Thoughts About Christo & Jeanne-Claude's "Gates"

(Can you tell I'm catching up on my blogging?? I have at least three thoughts a day that cause me to say "I have to blog about that" but then I am either in the middle of troubleshooting an issue at work, or not near anything to write with and have to remember to post later...so here they all are)

Stephen, Kate, and I spent Saturday afternoon at Central Park experiencing the Gates. The overall vibe in the park was one of wonder and happiness--despite the 30ish degree temperature, it was mobbed (although you won't be able to see that in the photos due to Stephen's aversion to taking photos that include people). I overheard a woman say to her two friends (in a classic outer-borough accent, mind you): "This just doesn't do anything for me." There have been quite a few spoofs of the project, too--check out Boing Boing for a good sampling (the source of all that is wacky on the web...scroll down the posts for 2/20).

Before jumping into the debate "what is art?" that surrounds the project, I'll tell you that I loved the Gates--the experience of walking around them, running under them, jumping up to touch the fabric, standing on their bases, watching other people look and think about them. The structures themselves are not profound, or even necessarily "pretty" in and of themselves--the fabric looks like polyester draperies from the 1970's and the supporting structure is covered in plastic (some gates had started to crack). What's remarkable is how simple, replicated structures can transform both how you move through space and what you think about that space. I've walked down paths in Central Park many times, but never with the same intensity, never thinking "let's go that way because of the curve of trail!" You notice paths (and conversely, what's off the path) differently when the space is demarcated so vividly.

We were lucky, too, to have bright sun and blue sky, which provided a sharp contrast for the saffron cloth. In some light, the cloth looked bright orange, sometimes more yellow, softened by the sun seeping through, and sometimes it seemed to fade to a pale tan. The wind played tricks with it, causing the cloth on one gate to billow while others stayed still.

I've overheard buzz, though, that somehow the Gates are not "Art" with a capital "A". I say "why not?" (along with "who-cares-about-defining-what-art-is-this-argument-makes-me-so-tired" but I brought it up...) The Gates changes the way you see--the way a painting or sculpture or graffiti can challenge you to change the way you see. It alters the way you view a familiar space (even if you haven't been to Central Park, you've seen it in movies and photos) by defamiliarizing and recasting it. It may not inspire awe, the way some works of art do (Serra's sculptures come to mind), but it brings art into the world and encourages people to look and think--which is the whole point, as far as I'm concerned. :)