On Cristo and Jean-Claude's "The Gates"
This is Cristo and Jean-Claude's "The Gates," which was displayed in and completely took over the landscape of Central Park in February, 2005. I personally hate it and cannot understand why this (and their other works) is considered art. They're colorful decorations obstructing nature. How is this art? Why do I have to study it? How does it contribute to general art trends (or anything)?
When the display was running, someone on my friends list linked an amazing NY Times article about someone who mocked "The Gates" in his house. An excerpt (and pictures):
A few passages of ''The Somerville Gates'' sound as if they're going to be repetitive. Did Hargo really need to have Fridge Gates, Feeding Gates and Table Gates? But if you spend some time on the site, you will see that each passage has its own aura. The Fridge Gates have an airy feel while the Feeding Gates have a finality to them, dead-ending at a blue bowl and a hungry cat. The Table Gates passage is ominous, with dark table and chair legs dwarfing the little orange structures.
For pure beauty and rhythm, you can't beat the Stairway Gates. But the Media Gates are the most suspenseful and loaded with meaning. At the tip of a V-shaped arrangement of orange gates sits a television screen. On the screen is a baleful looking dog. (He was one of the contestants in the Westminster dog show.) You can see Edie the cat looking over the gates and staring down the dog. The situation cries out for a mouse to run the gates' gantlet.
Mr. Hargadon said he had told his friends not to call him Geoff or Mr. Hargadon anymore. It is just Hargo. But he doesn't go for bombast. ''I like the idea of 'The Gates,' but maybe something smaller, something more subtle.'' Something more like ''The Somerville Gates.''
''There are no invitations,'' Hargo says at the Web site. ''There are no tickets.''
''If anyone tries to sell you a ticket, do not buy it,'' he continues. ''The Gates are not for sale. Neither is the cat.''
''Signed photos, however,'' he writes, ''are available directly from the artist in limited editions.''
There is no wind blowing these gates, no matter what the weather. So you don't have to pick your viewing date. And the Web site will stay up for a long time. The Somerville installation itself, though, is ephemeral. It goes down when ''the cleaning lady comes.''
Also featured in the article is another amazing jab at "The Gates:"
I posted this on my art history class forum and asked if it could be considered art. Sadly, the general consensus was that it was. Oh dear.