When I heard about the Gates installment that would be coming to NYC, I knew I would find a way to get to Central Park to see it. Growing up in NYC made Central Park my playground. First as a young child with my Grandma, then with my friends, and after college I would spend hours hiking the paths with my dogs. I have always loved the park, and the creativity of Frederick Law Olmstead in the mid 19th century to design such an oasis in the middle of the Manhattan Island. The park was designed with distinct and different areas meant to duplicate a serene countryside. The park feels so wonderfully expansive, the landscape varying from fields to forests, with ponds, and a skating rink, and the zoo, it contains a new treasure around every bend. Inside the park was where us city kids went when we needed a bit of the country.
Last Thursday, I packed up two of my children and headed into the city. We had two events to attend first was an unveiling of a statue of Adam Clayton Powell Jr. in Harlem, a perfect opportunity for black history month, and then a quick ride south to Central Park to see the Gates. The statue unveiling went smoothly, and the piece was magnificent, we marveled at the statues sense of power, at it’s presence from both the street as well as up close. From a distance it looked as if the building had been designed around the simple elegant statue, up close the statue seemed immense and strong. We appreciated the skill of the artist who rendered Mr. Powell in such incredible detail right down to his coat tails flying back in the wind.
After the unveiling we jumped back into the car and shot down to the park. The flags waving from the gates could be seen from blocks away and we were all quite thrilled to become a part of this historical and controversial event. We happily rushed towards the park, anxious to discover what awaited us there. Upon entering the park, we had to choose which way to go. It was a dilemma, the gates led off into opposite directions, we meandered a bit at first and then chose the path that seemed to have the most visual interest. The Path broke off into two directions and we could see distant paths crossing over a bridge in the distance. It seemed as this view would have more visual interest.
The first thing I noticed about the material hanging from the gates was it’s thickness. I assumed it would be light and gauzy like it appeared in the sun drenched photos in the papers I had been reading. In actuality it was a rather thick polyester weave. I was surprised.
Matthew had brought his video camera to record the events of the day, and he had the idea of doing a reporter on the street type of video. He began approaching the other park visitors and asking them what they thought of the gates. All but one of the 6 ordinary people we spoke to admitted they didn’t care for it, and the one who claimed to like it sounded like she was reading a prewritten script. We suspected she was trying to impress her daughter, who had no opinion, with an open point of view.
Another person who was enthralled with the gates was a volunteer who had flown out from California to help maintain a segment of the installation. She walked back and forth all day with a tennis ball attached to a long stick. When one of the drapes got blown around the vinyl columns the would knock it off so that it would hang straight down. She also spoke with visitors, answering questions and giving out fabric samples. This is how we learned that the polyester fabric curtains would be recycled into carpet pads, and that the vinyl supports would be recycled back into new vinyl products and even the steel bases would be recycled. I was happy to hear that these materials would be recycled, but couldn’t help thinking about all the resources that would be used in the recycling process, for such a tremendous and short lived project.
As we got farther and farther into the park, instead of the landscape opening up before us, I felt that it closed. The gates prevented us from enjoying the view. When underneath the gates little else was visible. Their bright orange glow, over powered all the grays and browns , and mossy greens of winter, and demanded we look at them and them only. They made me feel uncomfortable, While the gates trailed off into the distance, the park subsided into the background, and I realized that the gates were all about the gates, not about the gates working with the park, they were not there to enhance the park, or compliment the park. They were there to call attention to themselves. They did not define a new space within the park, after all they ran along the paths that have been in the park since it’s inception. They only stood up and demanded our attention with their intense color and constant movement. Unlike the statue we had seen that lent itself so well to it’s space, these gates did not fit in, nor did they inspire me. “What”, I wondered, “was the purpose of putting them in the park if they were not going to relate to the park?”
I prefer going to the park and losing myself in the beauty of what is already there. The park, to me is a simple place for city folks to go when they need to get back in touch with reality. That could be gazing at the pond or walking through the brambles, and the gates, in my opinion, served to disrupt this peaceful energy.
I didn’t enjoy our stroll through the gates, and left the park with the feeling that all the money and time and energy that was put into this project by the artists, politicians, and volunteers, was misspent. The Gates didn’t belong in this park, in my park. I am glad that they will soon be down.
I 
Comments