The Gates

It was 25 degrees and sunny in New York today and we thought it was the perfect afternoon to see The Gates. We decided to bypass the crowds along Museum Mile and enter the park from its northernmost point, The Harlem Meer.

It was a perfect location on this beautiful afternoon. The wind blew off the lake and the orange fabric fluttered and flew like butterflies lost in migration.

Make no doubt about it, these gates are orange. I've heard them called saffron, but plain and simple, they are construction cone orange, which I though was very cool as it tied this extraordinary art project into the mundane bits of and pieces of construction that litter almost every block of the city.

The photo above is Stan - hard to make out, I know - standing at the entrance to the Park. This area is right at the entrance to Harlem, graced y a huge statue of Duke Ellington and his piano. The effect of the sun and the flying curtains created a canopy of warmth that made everyone beneath them smile.

The gates articulate every hill and dale of the park. The promotional brochures quote Cristo as saying that he and his wife walked 100 miles and wore out three pairs of shoes as they decided on the position of each and every gate. There are gates that stand alone; gates that provide a uniform path to walk under; gates that stand in fours or twos; and more.

One of the most striking things about the gates, which I didn't realize until my 13 year old pointed it out, is that they are not of uniform height. If you look carefully, you will see that they are created of different heights to match the topography of the setting, so that all the tops of the gates line up at a uniform height.

At this end of the park, there is a small turn of the century boathouse that has been turned into a resource center. Ducks float around the lake, very nonplussed all the fuss around them. "Unfurlers", mainly college age kids who are volunteers, are manned with long sticks that have tennis balls on the end. Their job is to unfurl any flags that may wrap themselves back up around the gate in the wind. They all looked cheerful and welcoming, despite the wind turning our cheeks and ears a crimson that rivaled the orange overhead.

The biggest surprise of the day was Stan, who loved the whole thing. Last Sunday, he could be heard dissing the whole project and scoffing at the idea that anyone would come into the city to see it. I had to drag him out of the park , citing my bad knee and the frigid temps, and he directed most of these shots.


So, if the intent of the project was to provide an opening for a new mindset about what constitutes art for many people, or  if it  was to provide a vision of spring color illuminating the bare, brown pathways of Central Park, or both, I'd say the project was a success and New York is richer for having experienced it.

And Fran, I hope you enjoy these photos, because I thought of you the whole time we were there. You may not have been able to get here in person, but I assure you, I felt your spirit.