With $3.50 and a Dream, the 'Anti-Christo' Is Born

February 21, 2005

With $3.50 and a Dream, the 'Anti-Christo' Is Born

Very clever.

By SARAH BOXER

Published: February 19, 2005

CAMBRIDGE, Mass., Feb. 18 - You've seen Christo's "Gates" in Central Park. But what about Hargo's "Gates" in Somerville, Mass.? Sure, Hargo is unabashedly riding on the coattails of Christo and Jeanne-Claude. But it did take him some time to make his gates: 0.002 years, he estimates. That's a good chunk of a day. You may as well take a look:

not-rocket-science.com/gates.htm.

Just who is Hargo? Is he some kind of genius wrapper? His name is Geoff Hargadon, he is 50 and, in a telephone interview, he would only say, enigmatically, "Art is not my profession." His last installation was a studio full of discarded ATM receipts. The show was called "Balance." It was about "people, privacy and money," he said, adding: "You want to know how much people have? Here it is."

Like Christo and Jeanne-Claude, Hargo used recyclable materials for "The Somerville Gates." Unlike them, he accepts donations to defray the cost of his installation, which was $3.50. The mayor of Somerville did not come to the unveiling, on Valentine's Day.

Does Hargo have a Jeanne-Claude at his side? His cat, Edie, is a redhead, like Jeanne-Claude, he said on the telephone. But his partner in art is his wife, Patricia La Valley. Together they installed "The Somerville Gates" at their home on Monday night, while watching the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show on television. They took pictures, posted them on a Web site and sent the link to 30 friends by e-mail. Within 24 hours, the site had 99,000 hits.

"The Somerville Gates" has now become, Mr. Hargadon said, "the anti-Christo."

Geoff Hargadon

“The Somerville Gates” begin with the Door Gates.

Each saffron-colored gate that makes up "The Somerville Gates" is a 3.5-inch-high structure made of wooden dowels, cut-up roof shingles and clear corrugated plastic, all painted with orange tempera. (Hargo made 16 individual gates and moved them from room to room, following Edie's footsteps.)

On the Web site, the installation begins with the Door Gates, then moves on to the Poopatorium Gates, the Fridge Gates, the Table Gates, the Feeding Gates, the Tub Gates, the Fluffy Rug Gates, the Desk Gates, the Media Gates and finally the Stairway Gates.

There are some obscure parts to the installation, at least as it appears on the Web. You can't really see where you are when you approach the Poopatorium Gates. The sinuous path of the orange flags seems to run alongside a bed, or perhaps it is a hallway. What is that black thing looming in the distance? Where is the kitty litter?

A few passages of "The Somerville Gates" sound as if they're going to be repetitive. Did Hargo really need to have Fridge Gates, Feeding Gates and Table Gates? But if you spend some time on the site, you will see that each passage has its own aura. The Fridge Gates have an airy feel while the Feeding Gates have a finality to them, dead-ending at a blue bowl and a hungry cat. The Table Gates passage is ominous, with dark table and chair legs dwarfing the little orange structures.

For pure beauty and rhythm, you can't beat the Stairway Gates. But the Media Gates are the most suspenseful and loaded with meaning. At the tip of a V-shaped arrangement of orange gates sits a television screen. On the screen is a baleful looking dog. (He was one of the contestants in the Westminster dog show.) You can see Edie the cat looking over the gates and staring down the dog. The situation cries out for a mouse to run the gates' gantlet.

Mr. Hargadon said he had told his friends not to call him Geoff or Mr. Hargadon anymore. It is just Hargo. But he doesn't go for bombast. "I like the idea of 'The Gates,' but maybe something smaller, something more subtle." Something more like "The Somerville Gates."

"There are no invitations," Hargo says at the Web site. "There are no tickets."

"If anyone tries to sell you a ticket, do not buy it," he continues. "The Gates are not for sale. Neither is the cat."

"Signed photos, however," he writes, "are available directly from the artist in limited editions."

There is no wind blowing these gates, no matter what the weather. So you don't have to pick your viewing date. And the Web site will stay up for a long time. The Somerville installation itself, though, is ephemeral. It goes down when "the cleaning lady comes."

Posted on February 21, 2005 at 07:25 PM | Permalink