Shut the gate

20 02 2005

“I need a new shower curtain, cialis buy ampoule ” I say to my internal tape recorder. This is not as random as it sounds.

I’m in Central Park when I have this thought. Ok, sildenafil remedy so maybe it’s a bit random in that regard, malady but if you’ve had your news beagle nose clued to the tube or the rags or the World Wide Web, you may know of “The Gates”. They’re calling it an ‘art installation’ and it was conceived by that wrapping fiend—though wrapping isn’t his only tilt—Christo. Wrapped coast, wrapped Reichstag, wrapped this, wrapped that.

Initially, when I approached the park and caught a glimpse of a saffron flash through the trees, my first instinct was to recoil in horror. Then I got closer. Then I actually entered the park. Wandered and pondered for a bit. This ain’t nothin’ special. Blah. I churned my legs up cedar hill and down toward the duck pond and great lawn. Snapping photos. Mechanical. Not really feeling it. Thinking being here was more an obligation to artistic absorption than a ‘must see’.

As I got closer to the bottom of the hill at the duck pond, I turned around. And that’s when the sun smacked me through one of the curtains and said, “Look at this gate, ain’t she a pretty minx?” And I had to agree. In fact, the more I loped around, the more I warmed up to it.

From some viewpoints, it’s not that appealing. Militaristic gates standing in formation and looking starkly rigid in their outlook. Then you hit a run of them from a different angle and the breeze catches a curtain at the same time as ol’ sunshine and you go, “Ooh la lah. Do you come here often?”

I stand under a gate to listen for a bit. See if it will speak to me. It makes me think about sheets hanging on my Mum’s washing line. A ruffle, then a flap and snap as it gets caught by the wind and scribbles its secret message in the air. Even the texture of the material is getting in on the song. Each time a corner is whipped up to roll across the surface of the curtain, it’s as though a wave is stumbling in on a pebbly beach.

Soothing really.

It must be nice to have the ping-pongs to do something like this on such a grand scale. I mean forget the money for now. Because we all know $21 million is a lot of note, no matter whose exchange rate you’re mapping to. But putting yourself out there on the slab, letting people hate something you’ve created, is gutsy. Isn’t it? Just putting it out there to see how people react. Hate. Adore. Don’t give a fig. Don’t get it. Get it? How about ‘get it’ out of my park. Love it. Smile. Frown. Rage.

You can’t get past the $21 mil, right? Read the rest of this entry »

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