CHRISTO

Christo and Jeanne-Claude. The controversial couple.

To many, their 'artworks' are extremely impressive due to their massive scale and spectacular visual but viewers and critics are definitely not impressed them denying hat their works contained any deeper meaning other than their immediate aesthetic impact.

They simply try to create works of art to allow viewers to have new ways of seeing familiar landscapes.

But for me, it's actually quite neat. As I started out creating artworks, I have never actually had deep insights behind these works. Sometimes, artist should just take a break from trying to convey some serious message across through their work, but to merely explore new ways to make the work as aesthetically appealing as possible. If these 2 artists tried to fit in some deep meaning behind their works, I might find it a bit too much because its scale and visual impacts can already speak for itself.

Another thing that interested me about these artists is how their works are so fleeting. Their works almost have a legendary character, being so massive-scaled and yet only lasting for a few days. The artist himself said that he liked to emphasize on the nomadic quality of his works.

"I am an artist, and I have to have courage ... Do you know that I don't have any artworks that exist? They all go away when they're finished. I think it takes much greater courage to create things to be gone than to create things that will remain."

I'm once again fascinated by his view on his works. How many people other than them and maybe Andy Goldsworthy willingly create works that have to disappear in the end? Some of their disappeared works include the Wrapped Coast, The Surrounded Islands and The Wrapped Reichstag.

What I really like about the Wrapped Reichstag (below) is how all unnecessary details of the building is eliminated, and what's left in only the basic structure of the building. And yet its rigidness is contrasted by the elegant drapery of the cloth and ropes, almost completely transforming this solid majestic building into something soft and fluid, something we'd never imagine a building like this would look like. Fabric, like clothing or skin, is fragile; it translates the unique quality of impermanence. The richness of the silvery fabric, shaped by the blue ropes, created a sumptuous flow of vertical folds highlighting the features and proportions of the imposing structure, revealing the essence of the Reichstag. The building is shimmering where it was once solid, and refined where it was once gross and heavy. But it has lost none of its power.