Christo in Paris

I got an opportunity to catch this unusual and totally objective documentary on a man named Christo, an artist, who's life's obsession has been to wrap things. That does not mean he wraps up small things, however. He uses the outside world, in many acres of space, to accommodate his sprawling use of wrapping around natural and man-made locations. Here, he sets his sights on a bridge-area in Paris, which he finds is met with some skepticism by those in charge. But he presses forward, and we get a look into how this process is done, both with the politics of it, and with the actual artistry (if that's what it can be called) and work put into a public display such as what ends up as this.

I'm not sure if I may be one of only a dozen people in this entire country that have heard of this movie let alone seen it - it was screened in a class I had at my university (the professor being a friend of Albert Maysles had a VHS copy, though all the Christo doc's are on DVD now). But it's literally like nothing else you will ever see, or perhaps want to see. How much you like the film may or may not depend on how much you can tolerate the oddness that is in the subject of the piece, who is an occasionally eccentric, formidable presence. What is solid is the film-making- Albert Maysles watches these events, abandoning special and flashy techniques that are now all there is on the "documentary" landscape of Reality-TV. His work on the film is worth it alone, even if you find Christo too weird or unique for your taste. But one thing is for certain, that I will never look at another film about wrapping the same way again.

The next in a fascinating series by the Maysles brothers' docs on Christo and his public/performance art/sculptures. This one on wrapping the famous Pont Neuf bridge in Paris, which is almost anti-climatic after the initial footage of trying to get it made.

As I've watched the series of films in order, the filmmakers are eschewing the initial objective and minimalist mode - of merely reporting what happens - with actually telling us the back-story of his works. The "Islands" film (Florida, paired with this film on Plexifilm's DVD) goes behind the scenes into the Chamber of Commerce and shows Christo working simultaneously on the Berlin and Paris projects before wrapping the islands. And in the "Paris" film they spend even more time than any other on the background of Christo himself as well as the politics of the project. In fact Christo met his wife in Paris, and they ruminate on how Paris, and the Pont Neuf, are heavily symbolic locations. The film itself has a romantic air, and spends time showing Christo smiling, kissing his wife, dining with in laws, etc., between the actual process of wrapping the bridge. This is a far cry from the original "Valley Curtain" film, which was 100% concerned with the engineering challenge of hanging that vinyl curtain. No "is it art?" discussions, no politicians. Just the object for us to consider and ruminate over.

In a way, more is less. "Paris" uses man-on-the-street footage of citizens discussing the merits and aesthetics of the object like no previous film, and plenty of politicians maneuvering back and forth over the political ramifications of okaying it, etc. The film, and Christo, seem to be only going through the motions. The rude and audacious shock of the sculpture is muted when you know too much about how it came about. It becomes mundane in a disappointing way.

But a documentary on an artist may not be able to fully capture the intuitive and secret impulse and motivation of an artist and our response to grand and challenging art anyway. The fact that the film, and the work, were created and exists(ed), is the best answer to these questions.

I first learned of Bulgarian conceptual artist Christo from a photo that Annie Leibovitz took of him showing him completely wrapped in plastic. Since I didn't know anything about him, it flew over my head. Then, in eleventh grade, my language arts class focused on Christo and his wife Jeanne-Claude (who were born the same day, incidentally). I grew so fascinated with their works that I dressed up as Christo for Halloween that year!

Anyway, the Maysles brothers' documentary "Christo in Paris" focuses on one of Christo's and Jeanne-Claude's projects: wrapping the Pont Neuf in plastic. We get as much focus on their efforts to get permission to do so as we do on the project itself. With this, the question remains as to whether this counts as art.

Whatever the case, you can't deny that Christo and Jeanne-Claude achieved some impressive works. I doubt that we'll ever again see anyone pull off what they did. Quite an achievement for a guy who grew up in rural Bulgaria first under the Nazi occupation and then under the Soviet takeover.

This film makes you ask, Why do this? What does Christo get out of this form of art? Essentially the film is a journey to create art, but it's mostly the journey to get permission for it -- we do see the Pont-Neuf being wrapped, and we see it wrapped in all its splendor (though not the dismantling), but the majority of the film is the various detours that Christo and his wife (who looks like Illeanna Douglas) have to take being allowed by the government to create their unconventional art. (What's just as interesting is the love between the smiling Christo and his wife, who knew in marrying him that he would give her a fascinating life.) We see how even Christo's art, which is not political in any real way, is still dangerous to the politicians that allow it -- Jacques Chirac, the major of Paris, says he will only allow it once the '83 elections are over.

The documentary captures street bystanders so we understand the reaction of the citizens to the wrap -- some find Christo abnormal, others defend him as transforming a famous landmark temporarily (all of Christo's wraps are ephemeral -- here the memory exists in the mind's of those that see it, as well as this film). One observer very astutely notes to one man telling him why he is vehemently objected to the wrap that "if the bridge weren't wrapped, we'd never have spoken to each other." The wrap itself does have its clear aesthetic qualities -- much like wrapping someone's face in clay, it takes away the definition but reveals a broader sense of the overall construction of the face. It's more of a curio than a triumphant masterpiece of art; I think the conceptual aspect of it is most interesting, specifically the fact that it is temporary -- and being such, it is not art that could ever exist for monetary gain.

The Maysles film itself is a very good document of the experience of the bridge, even more so because if it didn't exist, the film, there'd be no way for we Westerners to experience it at all, with the exception of flying to Paris. The music employed in the film is especially good at emphasizing the experience of the bridge. It's a hard film to track down, and I found it in my university library, a copy taped off of the CBC, hosted by Adrienne Clarkson. 8/10