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The Gates
By
Published: Jan 01, 2005
Category:
Beyond Classification
The Gates
Central Park, New York City, February 12 – 27
As I write, a day before the “opening” of the The Gates, all that remains for the workers to do is pull the cords on 7,500 18-foot-high orange steel frames. Then orange fabric will billow. Christo and his wife, Jeanne-Claude will, I hope, toast one another. And their gift to the world will be ours to enjoy — for just 15 days.
Gates-mania has hit New York, and I’ve got it bad. For a week now, I’ve taken long walks in the Park, having near-Gates experiences as I pass under them. I’ve smoked a cigar and imagined myself being photographed for a men’s fashion magazine. I’ve activated my iPod and, at full volume, listened to everything from Green Day to Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan . This morning, with my Shure E3c Headphones jammed into my ears, I turned the iPod off and just listened to my heartbeat as I ambled through The Gates.
Magic, all of it.
Or, as the artists describe it:
