Of the Christo and Jeane-Claude's projects I know, I like best their 1972 - 1976 "
Running Fence, in Sonoma and Marin Counties of California. I was very close to this one, but I think, objectively, it is the most beautiful of their work.
I wasn't able to be hired on to the project, I needed my steady job at "The Last Great Hiding Place" in Cotati. Some of my friends were able to work on it, they, universally, were thrilled to do so.
The "Fence" began a few miles down Old Redwood Highway from my house near Penngrove, I could see a glimpse of it from my back porch. It continued 24.5 miles across the gorgeous rolling hills of rural West Sonoma County, to the sea just south of the Marin County line.
From what I heard, Christo and, especially, Jeanne-Claude completely charmed most of the land owners and government officials they met to gain permissions for the project. One administrator of Petaluma Fairgrounds, which was used as a staging area for the material and equipment told me, "She (Jeane-Claude) was a lovely woman, just wonderful." Most of the local ranchers were proud to be a part of the project, trusted Christo and Jeane-Claude, were delighted with their vision, gladly let them on their land without expecting payment, but accepted small gifts of television sets or furniture which they believed Christo and Jeane-Claude took pleasure in giving.
Many of the ranchers could make good use the fence's materials, for them, Christo and Jeane-Claude had the large woven nylon panels folded neatly, the nylon lines coiled, the metal poles stacked in sheds or barns at the end of the project's two week public showing. Other land owners had no use for the materials, so Christo and Jeane-Claude removed everything, donating all to local non-profit agencies who wanted it.
I wanted a panel, was willing to trade one of my, then current, large abstract paintings, but could not close a deal.
Some land owners wanted nothing to do with these European "artists" traipsing across their land, disturbing their livestock, making a mess. The project routed around them. Some greedy land owners in strategic locations held back their permission until Christo and Jeane-Claude gave them money or materials equal to tens of thousands of dollars. One rumor had it that a rancher near the township of Valley Ford got over one hundred thousand dollars from Christo and Jeane-Claude.
Some citizens argued against the project at the many public hearings. The discussion following their objections make up a big part of the public record which became the Christo and Jeane-Claude's art. The video, audio and transcriptions of hundred's of hours of argument over the appropriateness of government approval of the art project making a lasting record of rural California's thoughts on public art in mid-70's. That record alone makes the project valuable.
But, it is the Running Fence's spectacular beauty that remains it's most lasting cultural memory. The Fence was completed the day before the official "opening". There was a full-moon that night. I went with friends in a car along the fence's route for a preview. The silvery-white panels reflected the moon's light looking magical from a distance the fence slipped along the land's contours. Up close, it glowed powerfully. As we drove, the fence darted away from the road to disappear into trees, reemerged flashing on the crest of hills, running back close to parallel the road.
Where the fence bisected Valley Ford, we got out to touch it. A few people were out in the one-block main street. Some were Christo workers, some were fans like us. It was a celebratory atmosphere, we bought some beer at the store, drank it beside the fence, with the moon light reflecting from the eighteen feet high fence covering us with silver.
Continuing, we followed the fence's route into Marin County. At the beach where it dipped into the sea, there was a gathering of Sheriffs, officials and Christo workers preventing us from walking down to the beach. It was a crime scene. Christo and Jeane-Claude had broken the law to run the fence the last 1000 yards of public land to the sea. The Coastal Commission withheld permission for it to cross the State controlled beach.
Christo and Jeane-Claude had broken the project's promise to respect legitimate rules and regulations to execute the entire installation and removal of the sculpture with permissions from all legal owners and governmental bodies. An Art Critic wrote the next day for the San Francisco Chronicle that Christo and Jeane-Claude had "violated their project's integrity". Those who shared this view held that the fence should have stopped short of crossing the beach. Myself and the fence's fans thought that Art required the fence to touch the sea, the image of the fence slipping into the ocean was essential.
A young woman friend of mine, a brown-skinned, leggy, hippie artist told me she had been riding with Christo between him and one of his lieutenants in the front seat of the pick-up truck Christo drove when the decision to run the fence into the sea was made. Using radio walkie-talkies, Christo and the crew chief at the coast had been in conversation over the issue of stopping the fence or proceeding to the sea. Mid-day, Christo was still undecided, the crew chief demanded a decision, the crew needed to wrap up the construction, make the area presentable for the scheduled public viewing the next day. Pushed, Christo radioed, "Down to the sea, yes, take it down to the sea!" A cheer went up both in the truck and on the beach. But, Christo was quiet, worried.
The lesson I took was that it is important both to create within strict rules and to sometimes break the rules. The rules give the artwork shape, breaking the rules can give it life. In this case, the artwork's vision needed to be respected as well as the law. Since the Coastal Commission's refusal was only based on a fear of diluting the law's protection by granting a construction exemption, no actually harm was expected to the area and the reasonable argument was that no future Coastal Commission or Court would be able to equate a lightly constructed temporary sculpture with permanent commerical construction on the tidal area, the fear of setting harmful precedents did not seem reason enough to curtail the completion of the artistic vision. Today, remembering that moonlit night, when I looked past the tumultuous foreground to the shining fence slipping into the surf I still think Christo did the right thing.
Another friend of mine, ended his work on the project by walking the entire route from coast to Old Redwood Highway sowing grass seed after all material had been removed, marks and holes filled. He was ecstatic over this beautiful ending to his experience as one of Christo's "artists".
A lasting social impact of the project was Sonoma County gaining about one thousand people with paid work as "Artist" on their resumés. Christo and Jeane-Claude hired them from the local population, as Artists. They worked for more than three months, then were laid off at project's end, causing the County's employment statistics to show a large number of unemployed Artists. Since, at that time, we had a Democratic administration at both State and Federal levels, the governments actually tried to help the unemployed. This political situation allowed a group of us, a year later, to successfully get a grant approved which brought Federally funded salaries to unemploy about a dozen artists to create and operate an Art Center in a beautiful, but abandoned Santa Rosa elementary school building. Somehow, I got myself into that undertaking, becoming a staff curator of the Lincoln Art Center Gallery, where we produced a vigorous schedule of gallery exhibitions and events from 1977 to 1980. Most memorably, for me, was an electrifying performance by Ruth Parson.
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