Christo is the man who wrapped the Reichstag in Berlin (at left) and the Pont-Neuf bridge in Paris. He created the 24 mile Running Fence in Sonoma, and The Gates in Central Park (above).
Why is he considered an artist?
The essence of modern art seems to be making a statement, no matter how lame and pointless. But it's hard to determine what statement Christo is making.
It's also hard not to wonder what inspired him in the first place. Who would look at the Reichstag and think, hmm, that needs covering? Did Christo think that Central Park looked somehow naked without all those orange polypropylene sheets?
Every now and then some Halloween pranksters decide to toilet paper a house. Does anyone call them great artists? No, they're basically just mischievous kids. Which is forgivable, especially since toilet paper does no permanent damage. What would be unforgivable is if those kids called themselves artists. But they are, as much as Christo is. And so are the workmen who lay down the tarp over the infield at Fenway Park so the Red Sox don't have to play in the mud after it rains. In fact, every suburban Dad who hangs a tarp over his boat to keep it from getting rained on is as much of an artist as Christo.
Much of what Christo covered (or desecrated, if you prefer) was actually quite beautiful. Sonoma County is one of the prettiest places in the US. And the Reichstag is a magnificent building. He is hiding beauty, not creating it. Maybe I could drape some plastic sheets over Keira Knightley, so she can't be seen, and call myself an artist.
Perhaps the most important question here is, who were the German officials who gave permission for Christo to encase the Reichstag that way? Who were the Councilmen who gave their approval for Central Park to be filled with those ghastly orange plastic sheets? Who are the news executives who deemed his doings worthy of coverage?
There will always be village idiots. We used to laugh at them. Now we enable them.
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2 comments:
Well John, His tactics worked! Made you think. Made lots of people look at the park and Reichstag differently or maybe even for the first time. "ART" is making the familiar foreign or the foreign familiar, inspiring introspection and inquisition, sometimes forcing a new perspective (literally and figuratively) or appreciation (as you appreciated the building more unwrapped and probably took a closer look). The monumentality of his undertakings are breathtaking and bewildering at times, but that doesn't mean it isn't art. The Gates created a contrasting ribbon out of the serpentine pathways through the park and marked a separation between the natural environment and the users, between the grid of the city and the park. Granted, it may not have been as beautiful as the wrapped atolls or the coastal umbrellas, but it was a dramatic invitation to be there and be part of the art.
Jacki --
You have a much broader definition of what art is than I do. You're right about how I took a closer look at the Reichstag afterward, and how I appreciated it more. But if art is anything that makes me think -- even in a negative way -- then that definition would include new stop signs in my hometown, the traffic cameras in NYC, a downed telephone line which causes a detour, and new construction.
You describe the wrapped atolls and umbrellas on the coast as beautiful; I'd have to say it's the atolls themselves and the coastal scenery itself which are beautiful, not the polypropylene sheeting which Christo ordered and used to drape them or the umbrellas themselves. If I went into Redwood National Park and spray painted some of the tree trunks red (with water-based paint) I could call it art, and maybe at a certain level it would seem beautiful, but really, it would be the redwoods and the environment itself which would be beautiful, not my spray painting.
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