Latest news with #Christo
News.com.au
3 days ago
- Climate
- News.com.au
Footage shows landslide erase entire village
A catastrophic glacier collapse in the Swiss Alps has devastated the tiny village of Blatten, burying it under millions of cubic metres of ice, rock and mud. Videos of the collapsing glacier went viral as the natural disaster unfolded on Wednesday, showing homes and buildings being submerged followed by a haunting rumbling sound. A huge cloud was also created that covered parts of the mountain as rock and debris thundered down the valley. Regional police said a 64-year-old man was reported missing, and a search and rescue operation was underway. The small village was evacuated earlier in the week, with about 300 people and all livestock, fleeing for safety. Now, shocking before-and-after satellite imagery released by Maxar Technologies has revealed the true extent of the destruction as the once-idyllic town is erased. The first two images, both taken in November 2024, show the tiny town and its homes before the collapse. The remaining images show Blatten after the collapse on Thursday, May 29, with the town seen covered in ice and debris. 'What I can tell you at the moment is that about 90 per cent of the village is covered or destroyed,' Stephane Ganzer, the head of security in the southern Valais region, told local TV station Canal9. The regional government said a large chunk of the Birch Glacier above the village broke off, causing the landslide. It has also buried the nearby Lonza River bed. 'What happened is the unthinkable, the catastrophic worst-case scenario,' Christophe Lambiel, a specialist in high-mountain geology and glaciers at the University of Lausanne, told RTS Swiss Television. Lambiel said scientists knew something was coming, thanks to increasingly frequent rockfalls from the mountain face onto the glacier. But he said the glacier's total collapse was not predicted. Professor of environment and climate at the University of Zurich, Christian Huggel, told Reuters that climate change had likely played a part in the deluge. 'While various factors were at play in Blatten, it was known that local permafrost had been affected by warmer temperatures in the Alps. The loss of permafrost can negatively affect the stability of the mountain rock,' he said. In an emotional press conference Matthias Bellwald, the mayor of Blatten, offered words of encouragement to his devastated constituents. 'We lost our village but not our lives,' he said. 'The village is under the gravel but we're going to get up. We are going to be in solidarity and rebuild. Everything is possible.'
New York Times
09-05-2025
- Business
- New York Times
Where Christo and Jeanne-Claude Cast Their Spells
Hidden among the three-hour-long lines for sample sales, the luxury boutiques selling $4,000 bags and the street vendors hawking $100 knockoffs of those bags, in SoHo, is a time portal. The five-story building at 48 Howard Street is where, for roughly 50 years, the conceptual artists Christo and Jeanne-Claude lived and worked. Much has changed in the neighborhood since the 1960s, when the couple first moved there, renting two floors for just $150 a month. The property value has gone up — the median rent for a property in SoHo these days is $7,750, according to Zumper — but inside, the home remains almost exactly as it was when they occupied it. The top-floor studio still has Christo's sketches, art supplies neatly arranged in cookie tins and an unopened Coca-Cola bottle (their son, Cyril, loved Coke). Downstairs, where they ate and slept, trinkets and family photos surround the dining table and stools he built to furnish the space. Soon after Christo and Jeanne-Claude arrived in the neighborhood, in 1971, SoHo was rezoned to allow certain artists to live and work in their industrial lofts, further solidifying its status as a bohemia. Jean-Michel Basquiat, Barbara Kruger, On Kawara and Richard Prince had all lived in SoHo. Now, more than five decades later, many of the artists from that era have died or left the neighborhood, and the question of what to do with their studios arises. Jeanne-Claude died in 2009, and in 2020, so did Christo. Since then, 48 Howard's future has been uncertain. Their foundation uses the building as its office, but walls are deteriorating, paint is peeling and the facade has needed renovation. The possibility of opening the home up to the public is being explored, but that could mean having to make structural updates to get it up to code and make it accessible, an expensive undertaking possibly undermining its authenticity. 'I consider the apartment and the studio as part of our own archive, especially because Christo and Jeanne-Claude built the place with their own hands — he designed it, and he built literally everything from the walls to the furniture itself,' said Lorenza Giovanelli, the foundation's collection and exhibition manager. 'We want to find a way to keep their legacy alive, preserving the space where they lived and worked.' Christo and Jeanne-Claude were known for their massive, site-specific installations that explored themes of ephemerality and public space. They never accepted money from sponsors, financing their own projects, no matter the scale, so as to remain independent and avoid commercial influence. In 1995, they famously wrapped the Reichstag, the German parliament building, in 100,000 square meters of fabric. A decade later in New York, the couple installed 7,503 saffron-colored, nylon 'gates' in Central Park. They created fleeting, monumental pieces that were feats of engineering and negotiation. Their installations often involved intense debates with governments and were met with protests from environmentalists. The resulting works were owned by no one but could be experienced by everyone, changing the way the public interacted with art altogether. 'Our work is a scream of freedom,' Christo often said in interviews. Earlier this year, coinciding with the 20th anniversary of The Gates, The Shed held a retrospective spotlighting the couple's unrealized projects and, in Central Park, the public could view an augmented reality version of the work. It's no surprise that their works still resonate — in today's post-Covid New York, where many aspects of city life are largely unaffordable and public space feels increasingly threatened, the search for the kind of egalitarian wonder and excitement that Christo and Jeanne-Claude's art provided continues. At a moment when the creation of art at such a scale feels impossible without a corporate sponsor, when most visual stunts are shallow cries for publicity, the preservation of Christo and Jeanne-Claude's legacy feels urgent. And a crucial part of their oeuvre is that the inception of their grand, internationally known works happened humbly, in an unglamorous, gritty industrial building. Discovering SoHo Christo, originally from Bulgaria, and Jeanne-Claude, originally from Morocco, met in Paris in the 1950s. In 1964, they came to New York via the SS France. They brought with them two mattresses, a chair by Gerrit Rietveld and a painting by Lucio Fontana. Those items don't fit easily into suitcases, but Christo 'was a master in terms of wrapping and packing,' Ms. Giovanelli said with a smile. Like many artists of the time, the couple moved into the Chelsea Hotel. They were in search of a more permanent place to stay, and the sculptor Claes Oldenburg, who also lived at the Chelsea Hotel, suggested Christo and Jeanne-Claude check out 48 Howard. Mr. Oldenburg had a studio there and knew that several floors in the building were vacant. The building was owned by two brothers, Max and Ben Rosenbaum, who ran a tin roofsmithing business. They were charging $75 per floor in rent — Christo and Jeanne-Claude immediately decided to move in, taking over the top two floors. Christo and Jeanne-Claude had to 'literally build the walls, paint everything and scrub all the filth,' Ms. Giovanelli said. They called in other artist friends, including Gordon Matta-Clark, to help build a bathroom and closets. Then, they had to furnish the place. Having little money, the couple became 'professional scavengers,' Ms. Giovanelli said. 'They would literally walk up and down the streets of SoHo and Brooklyn and get furniture that other people discarded.' While Christo was shy, Jeanne-Claude 'was known for being shameless,' Ms. Giovanelli said. He'd pretend not to know her as she picked up chairs and tables from the street. The objects in the home 'have a patina of repeated use,' said Yukie Ohta, an artist and archivist in SoHo. 'They aren't quite dirty, but they are not as shiny as the Subzero refrigerators or as fresh as the Room and Board sofas that one might find in a renovated SoHo loft today.' In 1973, the Rosenbaums told Christo and Jeanne-Claude that they were planning to sell the building and had found a buyer. Jeanne-Claude asked whether she and Christo could buy it instead if she could match the offer plus a symbolic $1. The owners said yes, but finances were again a problem for the couple. 'We tried everything possible to get the money,' Christo said in a 2014 interview with T Magazine. 'At the time, we sometimes weren't even able to pay the rent for a few months. But the landlord, Mr. Rosenbaum, gave us a mortgage himself so that we could buy the building from him.' They ended up purchasing the building for $175,000. Dismal Dinner Parties At first, only Christo was recognized as the artist behind the pieces, but in the mid '90s, he started sharing equal credit for outdoor works with Jeanne-Claude. She also acted as his publicist and began hosting dinner parties, inviting influential dealers and gallerists. 'She was notorious for being a terrible cook,' Ms. Giovanelli said. 'They had no money at all, so she would cook flank steak and canned potatoes. That was it.' The evenings were often the source of gossip in the art world, Ms. Giovanelli added. They didn't always curate the guest list carefully, and some of the attendees didn't get along. In Burt Chernow's biography of the couple, the dealer Ivan Karp described one of the gatherings as 'a disastrous, bleak evening with some of the worst food served in a private home, ever!' Still, some people returned — two frequent dinner guests were Marcel Duchamp and his wife, Teeny. In 1981, Willy Brandt, who had served as the chancellor of West Germany from 1969 to 1974, visited the home to discuss a seemingly impossible project. Christo had been plotting to cover the Reichstag in fabric. The building has a dark history — in 1933, four weeks after Adolf Hitler became chancellor, it was set on fire. A pivotal moment in the Nazi regime's rise, the event would be used to rationalize mass arrests and the suspension of press freedom. German authorities repeatedly denied Christo and Jeanne-Claude permission to wrap the building. But they had the support of Mr. Brandt, who had come to 48 Howard to urge them not to give up. In 1992, however, Mr. Brandt died. The couple continued to push. The project became the subject of a roll-call vote in the German parliament in 1994, and Christo and Jeanne-Claude won by 69 votes. The following year, in his victory lap, Christo stated his mission plainly. 'Nobody can buy this project. Nobody can own this project. Nobody can sell tickets to this project,' he told The Los Angeles Times the week before its unveiling. 'This work will not exist because a president wants it, or because a corporation commissioned it, but only because of the artist, who is not rational.' Then, over 200 workers draped silvery fabric over the Reichstag. From conceptualization to realization, the project spanned three decades; it stayed wrapped for just two weeks. The display cost over $15 million, money the couple earned by selling Christo's sketches and models. It was 'the only time in history that the creation of a work of art was decided by a debate and a roll-call vote in a parliament,' Jeanne-Claude told Sculpture magazine in 2003. A 'Sacred' Space Christo's studio is 'the most sacred part of the house,' Ms. Giovanelli said. Stepping inside is like entering the great artist's mind. Every item is meticulously organized — a single marker used to create 'the red edge' is labeled and taped to a desk, a can of YooHoo is repurposed to hold pens. Technical drawings and maps abound — a plan with measurements for wrapping Snoopy's doghouse is hung on the wall next to a photo of Jeanne-Claude. Jeanne-Claude's imprint is all over, too. Where the radiator used to be, she traced the words 'I Love You' out of grime on the wall. In the living area, she also pasted pieces of paper with quotes she enjoyed around the space, one of which reads, 'to be is to do (Descartes) / to do is to be (J-P. Sartre) / do be do be do (Sinatra).' The public anger and institutional battles that came with every work were part of the art itself. 'For me esthetics is everything involved in the process — the workers, the politics, the negotiations, the construction difficulty, the dealing with hundreds of people,' Christo told The Times in 1972. 'The whole process becomes an esthetic — that's what I'm interested in, discovering the process. I put myself in dialogue with other people.' And though there were many triumphs — L'Arc de Triomphe, Wrapped in Paris and Surrounded Islands in Florida — there were also several occasions in which the years of fighting didn't lead to success. Starting in the 1990s, the couple wanted to suspend nearly six miles of luminous fabric over the Arkansas River. In 2011, two years following Jeanne-Claude's death, Christo received the permits necessary to bring the project to life. But then, environmentalists protested, a local opposition group called Rags Over the Arkansas River formed and students at Denver University's Environmental Law Clinic filed a lawsuit to halt the project. But only in 2017, after President Trump was first sworn in, did Christo announce he wanted to step away from it, in an act of his own protest. 'The federal government is our landlord. They own the land,' Christo told The Times following his decision. 'I can't do a project that benefits this landlord.' Though the physical installation never came to fruition, in a way, the work still existed through the conversations it sparked. And still proudly on display in the home today is a bumper sticker made by Rags Over the Arkansas River, which reads, 'Just say no to Christo.' Even now, the dialogues inspired by Christo and Jeanne-Claude's work, spawned from 48 Howard, are ongoing. 'The aura of the possible, which is what drew people to SoHo in the first place,' Ms. Ohta said, 'emanates from the building's bones.'
New York Times
08-05-2025
- General
- New York Times
Corrections: May 8, 2025
FRONT PAGE A chart with an article on March 10 about unfairness in the U.S. organ transplant system misstated organ discard rates. The discard rate was 21 percent in 2024, not 22 percent. SPORTS An article on Wednesday about U.S.A. Fencing finding itself at the center of a debate about inclusivity and transgender athletes misidentified the school on Staten Island that Red Sullivan had competed for until the N.C.A.A. ban. It is Wagner College, not Wagner University. ARTS An article on Monday about the uncertain future of the house in Folly Beach, S.C., where George Gershwin worked on the opera 'Porgy and Bess' misstated the given name of the mayor of Folly Beach. He is Tim Goodwin, not Tom. SPECIAL SECTIONS: THE ART OF COLLECTING An article on Wednesday about the European artists Jeanne-Claude and Christo misstated the name of the museum in Fort Lauderdale where an exhibition of the highlights of 'Surrounded Islands' opened in February. It is NSU Art Museum Fort Lauderdale, not NSU Fort Lauderdale Art Museum.
New York Times
07-05-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
The Works of Christo and Jean-Claude Are Experiencing a Revival
It was 42 years ago. Miami awoke to a strange, crooked line of hot pink images floating in the waters of panoramic Biscayne Bay. Eleven small islands had been wrapped in wide, rippling swaths of pink plastic. They were almost glowing as the morning sun swept over the beaches and skyscrapers of the city. Crowds came out in helicopters and speedboats and the family car. Some people perched on condo balconies. It was the work of Christo and his wife, Jeanne-Claude, the European artists who had wrapped the Reichstag building in Berlin, the Pont Neuf bridge in Paris and run a billowing, tall white nylon fence 24.5 miles over the cattle ranges just north of San Francisco and into the Pacific Ocean. People flew in from Europe and around the world to see the show, and collectors and museum directors and many others say it lifted the curtain on Miami as a city of natural beauty that would eventually become a dazzling global art center.
Business Mayor
02-05-2025
- General
- Business Mayor
ibrahim mahama wraps kunsthalle bern in jute sack veil, confronting histories of labor & trade
Ibrahim Mahama conceals the Kunsthalle Bern in Switzerland behind a veil of jute sacks, marking a moment of transition for the historic gallery. The installation coincides with the Kunsthalle's upcoming reopening and its shift toward a broader institutional reinvention, while echoing one of the most iconic moments in its history: the translucent 1968 wrap by Christo and Jeanne-Claude celebrating its 50th anniversary. Mahama's intervention transforms the building's exterior into a textured, earth-toned skin, layering global histories of labor, trade, and material exchange onto the facade. The historic jute sack, laden with connotations of colonial legacies and economic networks, becomes his primary medium, assembled to introduce a rough presence that embeds the structure within larger social conversations. The installation will remain on view through June 1st as the Kunsthalle moves toward a full reopening with an ambitious program featuring exhibitions by artists including Melvin Edwards and Tuli Mekondjo, alongside events and performances. all images courtesy Cedric Mussano ibrahim mahama questions flows of labor, value, and power This new commission arrives at a pivotal moment for Kunsthalle Bern. As the institution undergoes renovations to improve safety, accessibility, and environmental performance, it has embraced the opportunity to rethink its mission. Under the leadership of director iLiana Fokianaki, the institution has been engaged in a yearlong process of what it has termed 'fermentation', referring to a radical rethinking of its operational, curatorial, and administrative practices by drawing from the ecological principles of permaculture. As the building transforms physically, so too does the institution's vision: toward a more inclusive, model that considers its social and ecological responsibilities in the context of the environment and global cultural shifts — 'A 'work in progress' where our new vision for an institution of the future emerges: permeable and with access for all,' as the team notes. For Ibrahim Mahama, the opportunity to design a veil that marks this moment of transition signaled a chance to interrogate the flows of labor, value, and power that shape global histories, while situating the Kunsthalle within those networks. Known internationally for his large-scale installations made from found and repurposed materials, the Ghanian artist works with the histories embedded in everyday objects. His signature material, the jute sack, carries particular resonance in this project. Used in his native country to transport cocoa, the sacks bear the marks of a context deeply intertwined with Swiss economic history. Manufactured in Southeast Asia, shipped to Ghana by the Ghana Cocoa Board, used first for cocoa, then sold on to local rice and corn traders and ultimately recycled for charcoal transport, the sacks here become an archive of labor, trade, and environmental change. Ibrahim Mahama's intervention at the Kunsthalle Bern in Switzerland a record of collective labor Where Christo and Jeanne-Claude's wrap was a formal exploration of concealment and transformation, Ibrahim Mahama's version layers in histories of colonialism, global capitalism, and ecological crisis through this material. The work also asks viewers to consider how institutions are shaped by the legacies they inherit, whether in architecture, art history, or trade, and how those legacies might be opened up to critical reflection. The jute sack, as Mahama explains, becomes a record of collective labor, 'scarred' by its passage through global circuits of commerce. The material's own vulnerability, including its susceptibility to insect infestations that threaten up to 40% of harvest value, points to larger systems of extraction, overproduction, and ecological collapse. Seen in this light, even the smallest actors — insects — become agents in disrupting the flows of global capital, reframing how we understand agency and resistance in the context of environmental degradation. concealed behind a veil of jute sacks The Kunsthalle's upcoming program, culminating in a full relaunch in spring 2025, will continue to develop these questions. Fokianaki's curatorial approach, too, supports this by foregrounding the institution as a site of permeability and public accountability. The renovation phase has been used as an active chance to reconsider why the institution exists, for whom it operates, and how it can become a 'home' in an era marked by ecological and social uncertainty. used in Ghana to transport cocoa, the sacks bear a context deeply intertwined with Swiss economic history the installation coincides with the Kunsthalle's upcoming reopening and its shift toward an institutional reinvention project info: name: Kunsthalle Bern wrap artist: Ibrahim Mahama location: Switzerland photographer: Cedric Mussano
