Big Dreams Come in Small Wrappings

When I was barely twenty-five, I had the good fortune of seeing Christo and Jeanne-Claude give a talk about their latest project — The Gates, a monumental installation that spanned 23 miles of Central Park, its saffron-colored flags billowing in the wind. The project was envisioned in 1976 but wasn’t realized until 2005.

My first exposure to Christo came with The Umbrellas that dotted the 405. I was a teenager at the time. My mother excitedly told me about this wonderful new project by Christo. At the time, I thought it was stupid — what’s the point?, I thought. Silly, wasn’t it?

One day we were zooming down the 405, and there they were! Yellow umbrellas scattering across the bone-dry yellow hillside.

hillside of Southern California. The thirteen-year-old me wasn’t too impressed. I thought they looked a tad sparse on the grass-swept slope.

The lesson was still lost on me until 2005, in New York City. I was standing there in the audience, a nervous young man, unsure of his place in the world. And there they were: Christo and the love of his life and partner, Jeanne-Claude. They were the coolest presence in the room.

After several rounds of questioning, one high-flauntin’ member of the audience raised their hand and asked something along the lines of:

“Why do you do this project? It looks like a giant just came along and placed these flags. But I’m curious, what compels you to create such a spectacle?”

(This was the shortened version, of course. The actual question was far more long-winded, probably carefully crafted to draw attention to the inquirer’s self-perceived brilliance.)

We all sat there, probably expecting an in-depth answer that would reveal some profound inner workings of their artistic genius. Instead, they simply replied:

“We’re just doing it for ourselves. It’s something we want to experience and create for ourselves. It brings us joy.”

At the time, I didn’t truly understand what they were saying. Not really. It would take me another twenty-odd years. But now that I’m older and a little wiser, I realize their message was a simple, universal truth. Maybe even the very reason we’re here at all:

Play.