COTOPAXI — For some residents in the tiny towns that flank the Arkansas River, the artist Christo’s grand plan to drape the waterway with shimmering fabric is a buzz-building, revenue-generating chance to briefly bask in the international art world.
But for others — and judging by their fervor and volume, it would seem more — the plan promises nothing less than the invasion of an art-peeping army, hundreds of thousands strong, clogging their only road and threatening the river that feeds their water-centric lifestyle.
“Hanging rags over the river is the same as hanging pornography in a church,” said Ben Goodin, a raft guide from Coaldale.
“And we, the residents of this canyon, don’t have any alternatives for participation. We are trapped in his art project whether we want to be or not.”
If the metaphor seems extreme, so, it should be said, is the proposal.
The Bulgarian-born artist and his late wife, Jeanne-Claude, renowned for wrapping monuments and erecting 7,500 orange gates in New York City’s Central Park, designed a $50 million plan to suspend 5.9 miles of fabric across parts of 42 miles of the river for two weeks. For 13 years, ever since the celebrated couple first unveiled their idea, the debate has raged, and it is about to reach its apex.
The federal Bureau of Land Management, which will accept or reject Christo’s plan in February, held four meetings this month, marking the first chance — finally — for locals to formally voice support or opposition. The meetings followed the July release of a 1,400-page draft environmental impact statement, outlining potential problems and Christo’s plan to address those issues.
The dense document, developed with Colorado State Parks and the Colorado Division of Wildlife and paid for by Christo, includes five alternatives to the artist’s original proposal, each adjusting the scope, duration, timing and traffic controls. The BLM could recommend one of them or choose a “no action” proposal rejecting the idea outright. Christo could then respond. (The BLM is accepting public comments through Sept. 13.)
The meetings — in Salida, Cañon City, Cotopaxi and Denver — drew hundreds and saw emotional pleas from both camps.
Christo, 75, attended each, listening blank-faced as Coloradans both ravaged and exalted his idea.
“Doing this project in the canyon would be like a beautiful daughter sold into prostitution,” said Howard resident Gary Golden, who worries the fabric could tear from its anchors and clog the river.
At the BLM’s Denver meeting, Bill Keever described the river as his temple, a place where he finds peace.
“I feel bad for those folks out there who need art to see the beauty in the river,” said Keever, of Denver.
Veiled insults like that have become routine as the debate has pitted neighbor against neighbor and spurred divergent perspectives on the role of public art. Christo has said the controversy is part of the artistic process: a lengthy pondering of art in public places, its worth and its impact.
Fans see classy art, money
And residents get that; they also get that that there’s a good bit of cash at stake. The BLM estimates the “Over the River” project could inject more than $120 million into the state’s economy, with restaurants, lodges, rafting companies and construction contractors benefiting from the installation, exhibition and removal stages of the project.
Business leaders, chambers of commerce, tourism officials and many politicians are lining up behind the project.
Steve Moreau, owner of two inns near Florence, said Christo’s project will fill all the lodging in the area, with even Denver, Colorado Springs and Pueblo sharing the midsummer bump.
“It will be wonderful for tourism. It will generate a lot of funds for us down here, at a time when we all could use some extra money,” said Moreau, who serves on the Cañon City Chamber of Commerce board.
It’s not all about money and worldwide attention, though. Opponents may deride the project as frivolous, but supporters see an intrinsic value.
“Colorado would be on the world’s stage,” said Michael Raper, a lifelong art teacher who brought to the BLM’s Denver meeting two Christo-heralding placards colored by the kids in his art program at the Cheyenne Boys & Girls Club. “I told the kids that of all the rivers in the U.S., he picked Colorado’s, and we should celebrate that. This could be his last big project.”
Salida resident Elizabeth Ritchie went so far as to call the idea “an extraordinary gift.”
“It will transform how we experience this place we call home,” Ritchie said.
That transformation has already happened, according to Salida artist Jack Chivvis, who would welcome Christo but isn’t fighting to sway anyone. Chivvis, a longtime rafter, chuckles a bit when he hears people talk about the beauty of the canyon, where the river winds through blasted rock between a railroad and a highway.
“Most of the area he wants to drape is simply rubble. It’s not pristine. But whatever happens, he’s forced us to see that canyon in a whole different way. He’s made us think about why we love the river and what makes it beautiful,” said Chivvis, who with his wife, Linda Lovell, has owned a gallery in Salida for 25 years.
“A lot of times, art kind of nudges people out of their comfort zone. I think Christo has already done that.”
Those are fine sentiments, opponents counter, but they miss the point.
Foes see years of harm
The project’s anticipated 344,000 visitors over two weeks in 2013 is just too much for the already busy summer months in Salida and Cañon City, say locals. Add in road closures during the two years of construction work installing the panels, and “Over the River” “is a three-year upheaval of our lives,” said Janice Yalch of Howard.
“We aren’t saying this shouldn’t be done. We are saying it shouldn’t be done here,” said Yalch, smoothing her fresh “Rags Removal Specialist” T-shirt at the particularly fiery meeting in the gymnasium of the Cotopaxi School.
“What if this thing draws two-and-a-half million people? I think their numbers are off.”
Tripling traffic on narrow, two-lane U.S. 50 between Cañon City and Salida — the sole east-west route between the towns — will trigger long delays for local residents. They are worried about medical emergencies and reaching customers for their businesses.
Last year it took an hour for Glenn Dotter to get to the emergency room in Salida from his home near Cotopaxi. Any longer, he said, and the shot that dissolved his blood clot would not have worked.
“If someone dies in a traffic jam that could have been avoided, that is inexcusable,” Dotter said.
“We are putting people’s lives in jeopardy. All for art.”
Damage to the river environment and wildlife share top billing on the list of concerns. Many opponents worry the project will stress local bighorn herds and birds. They wonder how the drilling of more than 9,000 riverside holes to anchor the fabric panels can be repaired, as Christo has promised.
“This will be overwhelmingly destructive to plants, animals and the people in this valley,” said Linda Golden of Howard. “The ‘no action’ response is the only sane one.”
The pending deadline is agitating normally tranquil river towns and riling once-affable neighbors.
“His project is starting to supersede a lot more important issues that affect our town and region. People are making decisions about who they support, what they support and what businesses they support based on their thoughts about Christo,” said Salida businessman Greg Felt, who has been guiding fishermen on the Arkansas River since 1985.
“It truly has divided the region. In that regard, I think we have moved beyond any intellectual discussion of art.”
Jason Blevins: 303-954-1374 or jblevins@denverpost.com
Christo exhibit
The Museum of Contemporary Art Denver, 1485 Delgany St., will exhibit 15 mixed-media drawings related to Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s proposed outdoor work, “Over the River.” The show, titled “Over the River: A Project for the Arkansas River, State of Colorado, A Work in Progress,” will be on view from Sept. 28 through Jan. 16. For more information: 303-298-7554 or mcadenver.org
