A Cape Codder Braves NYC

Libby Hughes on Christo's Gates & the Great White Way

The Christo Gates in Central Park have made a big statement, artistically and financially. Though some native New Yorkers were unhappy about the artistic statement, others approved. Certainly, the merchants were happy about the revenues, resulting from the 7,500 gates spread over 23 miles for two weeks.

NYC Christo Gates in Central Park posed against the West Side skyline. Photo by Libby Hughes

The tourists were definitely happy. Central Park has never been so crowded. Cameras were snapping everywhere. People were jumping to touch the hem of the saffron skirts, billowing in the breeze. Park attendants carried aluminum poles with tennis balls at the top to untangle the fabric getting caught in a burst of wild wind. Lovers were seen kissing under the gates as if the orange citrus fabric were mistletoe.

Washing away the winter blahs

Under sunny, but bitterly cold, February skies, the tourists were reveling in the splashes of Buddhist monk saffron robe colors, washing away the gloom of winter blahs. The debate over the actual color never stopped. The gates and fabric were neither brilliant orange nor burnished orange. They were not quite a pale cantaloupe nor a pure saffron, but saffron had a more sophisticated ring to it. The color all depended on the angle of the sun and time of day. They could be described as all these colors and more.

Everyone had his or her own interpretation of the meaning of the 16-foot high gates and the artistic extravaganza, created by Christo and his wife, Jeanne Claude. They wanted it that way. For me, they symbolized the gates of freedom and openness that this country represents. The gates had no chains or locks—just free and open. Perhaps they were symbolic of freedom of thought where there are never any limitations. For me, they symbolized the gates of freedom and openness that this country represents.In one day, the sunny skies turned angry and platinum, leaving the ground covered with snow, giving a different cast to the gates. The bare branches of trees became black like witches’ claws. The saffron skirts became stiff, still, and somber. It was an eerie sight.

"Renewable" art

The young park attendants from many countries answered questions from the curious. The gates and polyester fabric would be recycled at the end of the exhibit. The aluminum, vinyl-covered gates would be used for sewer pipes while the fabric would be shredded for the underlay of carpets. The 800-pound steel bases would be returned to Pennsylvania to be recycled. This is what Christo and Jeanne Claude wanted. Others wanted them to be sold on eBay.

Was the $21 million cost worth it? To the artists it was. Whatever other opinions, the gates were something to see and remember. On February 28 the dismantling began. March 15 is the deadline for the complete removal.

Culture, culture, culture

Meanwhile, the New York museums were mobbed. Long lines snaked around the Museum of Modern Art with people, waiting to see the dramatic new architecture and Impressionist exhibit. The Metropolitan Museum of Art was equally crowded. The Met had an extraordinary exhibit of Rubens drawings in sienna ink. Even former President of Boston University, Dr. Silber, could be seen quietly studying the fine lines of each drawing.

Of course, Broadway shows were jammed with visitors and high school kids on vacation. Except for Billy Crystal’s one-man show, Broadway was alive with blockbuster musicals. The prices are $75 to $100 a seat. At that price, audiences want to be wowed. Straight plays can’t make it, except off off Broadway or in small black box theatres.

Mama Mia was my least favorite. It had a primitive, throbbing beat and repetitive lyrics. The choreography was less than inspiring—a bunch of dancers chopping the air in Indian warrior-like motions. However, the encore was long and quite fantastic. People spilled into the aisles to put their own spin on the music. Hairspray was much better. Little Women had superb sets and lighting. But Twyla Tharpe’s choreography and Billy Joel’s music in Moving Out were spectacular. A segment on Vietnam spoke volumes without words.

Well, New York is always exciting—gates or no gates.

Libby Hughes is an author, editor, playwright and lyricist. She free-lanced for major newspapers in Africa and Asia. For ten years, Ms. Hughes was a drama critic and feature writer for a chain of newspapers on Cape Cod. She edited Ginger Rogers' autobiography and won the Maxwell Anderson Playwrights Series in 1984. In 1999 Hughes won a Cape-wide contest for her play, "Sin in the Attic," performed at the Chatham Drama Guild over First Night. She was a major contest winner of Boston's New Opera and Musical Theatre Initiative (NOMTI) in 2000 for her book and lyrics for "Pasta and Curry." Her books have been published by Silver Burdett of Simon & Schuster, Genesis Press, and iUniverse.com . Ms. Hughes studied dramatic criticism with Elliot Norton at Boston University. She is listed in the "Who's Who of American Women" and the "World Who's Who of Women." Hughes lives between Cape Cod and Cambridge writing books, plays, and musicals; and reviewing music, theatre and dance online for Cape Cod Today.com. Visit Libby's web site or email her comments or questions.