Bah Freakin’ Humbug

The New Republic’s Jed Perl sounds like that cranky 81-year-old the Post interviewed the other day:

If Christo and Jeanne-Claude did not exist, somebody would have to invent them. The husband-and-wife team whose latest project, “The Gates,” opens in New York’s Central Park on Saturday, are the hardworking, irrepressible promoters of a series of avant-garde-meets-pop-culture happenings that sweep people right off their feet. This fusion phenomenon, with its mix of modernist obscurantism and feel-good communalism, is bohemianism for the masses. There isn’t much of anything left once you’ve stripped these fun-with-fabric extravaganzas of all their logistical complexities. But the sheer bravado of Christo and Jeanne-Claude–who have wrapped buildings and coastlines–can pass for visionary power right now, when so many people are unclear as to where cultural experiences end and life-style choices begin. The acres of saffron cloth that Christo and Jeanne-Claude are unfurling across Central Park are a fashion statement, nothing more. It’s public art for the cocooning generation. It’s aestheticism lite.

Lord, with all that is pretentious in this world we need not gratuitously kiss artist ass, but I do think there’s a little more to the Gates than Perl lets on — fawning crowds and sycophantic volunteers aside. At least I think so! But lest I be equivocal, I should really check in with Herbert Muschamp first — he’s not dead, is he? (Joking! Joking!)

At any rate, Perl questions the Wrapping Wonders’ public art cred:

What fascinates people about Christo and Jeanne-Claude is not only the sensational scale on which they work. It’s also the way that they mix private enterprise and public spiritedness. By now everybody knows that this dynamic duo accepts no public funds. They’re dreamers with entrepreneurial gumption. Speaking to a group of volunteers the other day, Jeanne-Claude told them what to say when people asked about the purpose of “The Gates.” “It’s for nothing,” she explained, as if she were some prophetess of art-for-art’s-sake. “It’s only a work of art. Nothing more.” Well, that sounds very nice. Except that New York City would not be hosting “The Gates” if the Mayor didn’t think it would be a boon to tourism. And the people who are coming from near and far to get in on the action are precisely looking for something more than a work of art–they’re looking for a community, a spectacle, a happening. Of course that desire to experience art with others goes back very far. It’s true that the magic of a masterwork such as Bernini’s Four Rivers fountain in the Piazza Navona in Rome has everything to do with our hankering for community, for spectacle. But with Christo and Jeanne-Claude the experience has no core, no essence. All we get is some fabric flapping in the wind. These artists tap into the yen for art. And the yen seems to be enough.

Got that? It wouldn’t be happening if New York didn’t want more tourism. Well no shit, dude. And I’ll clue you in to one more bit of crass commercialism: it wouldn’t be happening if Christo and Jeanne-Claude didn’t also donate a buttload of money to the Central Park Conservancy. But that’s obviously beside the point — from an aesthetic point of view at least.

You may have noticed where he’s going with it. It’s not New York City’s fault — they just want the revenue. It’s not Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s fault — they just want to promote themselves. If I’m reading him correctly, it’s the public’s fault, for mindlessly flocking to such frippery. Read on — and for fun, substitute “Phish” or “The Grateful Dead” in the appropriate places:

The people who wander through Central Park taking in “The Gates” are going to have an experience, no question about it. They’re going to be in the midst of one of the world’s most beautiful urban spaces. They’re going to find themselves easily striking up conversations with other visitors, which can be fun. They’re going to enjoy the orange fabric billowing in the breeze, and the patterns of bare trees, and the thrilling sense of the booming city all around. And the more that visitors experience all of this, the more that everybody is going to become convinced that what they’re experiencing is great. For Christo and Jeanne-Claude this sort of communal experience may double as an art-for-art’s-sake experience. But just because you’re being bombarded by sensations doesn’t mean that you’re in the presence of major art–or even of mediocre art. When all feelings are regarded as aesthetic experiences, art is at risk. What Christo and Jeanne-Claude have brought to New York is their own brand of late-modern philistinism.

Like I said, bah freakin’ humbug!

There is an out here, of course: Perl could admit that Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s DIY aesthetic (see Fugazi, for example) doesn’t jive with the art world, where anyone who is anyone is represented by a gallery; Christo and Jeanne-Claude represent themselves. (Keep that in mind when you read critics in the next couple of days.)

Look, it’s possible this is going to suck — and I don’t care one iota if it does — but isn’t it possible to at least dig a little deeper than this? I mean, they’re starting to sound like the National Review! (Ooh . . . low blow!)

Big thanks to Ryan at The Side of the Slant for passing this along . . .