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feature: PUBLIC RELATIONS
Creative Time's Anne Pasternak Engages in Give-And-Take with Artists
The resulting work is challenging, idiosyncratic, personal and has virtually nothing in common with the bland, easy-to-digest stuff we usually think of as public art. There is no "typical" Creative Time project. Recent works range from David Byrne's "Playing the Building," in which he turned a 9000-square-foot building into a sound sculpture, to last summer's "This World and Nearer Ones," a presentation of 19 works on Governor's Island, a former Coast Guard base in New York Harbor that was recently opened to the public as a park. Highlights from that project include a séance to "invoke queer spirits" by AA Bronson and Peter Hobbs and a super-sized wind chime by Klaus Weber.
Founded 35 years ago, the organization gained prominence in the late '70s-early '80s with Art on the Beach — the "beach" being the Battery Park City landfill, a large, sandy expanse created out of the debris and excavation from building the World Trade Center. More than 180 artists, musicians and dancers contributed sculptures or performances over the project's seven-year run at that location. The project dovetailed well with the prevailing aesthetic of the era, when the lines between art and play were thin.
Pasternak took the helm in 1994, bringing with her a sharp sense of what's relevant now. She strides through CT's bright white East 4th Street offices on a gray, rainy morning in silver boots and a turquoise dress, long curly hair bouncing behind her. She's definitely someone you want to follow, if only to see where the hell she's going.
"For an arts organization, we're friendly and transparent," she says. ‘There are three basic founding principles here: provide the opportunity for artists to experiment, preserve public space for creativity, and a dedication to the idea that artistic voices matter in society."
One of the most successful examples of that mission is "Tribute in Light," the two beams that shine up from the World Trade Center sight every September 11th. The project first went up only six months after the attacks, when New Yorkers' feelings were still very raw. "It seemed obvious that artists would be reflecting on the events of 9/11, but it was a risky project for us to take on," says Pasternak. "We didn't know if people would have nightmares. There was skepticism in the art world about whether you could create something meaningful so soon after the event." As it turned out, it was exactly the right thing at the right time. "When I first saw it, I gasped and burst into tears. It was such a labor of love, it consumed us. The next morning I thought, Oh, I can go on with my life now, and on my way to work I passed a newsstand and it was on the front page of every single paper. That night, I turned on the TV and every news station televised live from lights. Victims' families rented boats so they could see the lights as they were turned on. They said, ‘This is the most painful thing and I'm so glad it's here.'"
Creating a dialogue with the public is an important aspect of Creative Time's mission. "My staff and I are at the projects. We don't just put them up and take rich people around to see them. When I go out to give a tour on Governor's Island, for instance, I get to talk to people, and maybe someone will reference something that I have no idea about, or I'll meet someone who isn't engaged in art and then you have a conversation and they get that it's not a foreign language."
That kind of give-and-take prevailed in one of Creative Time's few ventures outside of New York, when the organization produced the play, Waiting for Godot, in the Katrina-torn neighborhoods of the lower 9th Ward and Gentilly in 2006. The artist Paul Chan, who conceived the project, installed himself in those neighborhoods for months before the performances. "No one would have imagined Paul moving into the community, knocking on doors, helping to rebuild, and producing a play there," says Pasternak. "[Paul] taught me about building ethical relationships with the audience.
"We were dealing with a place of incredible tragedy, and incredible race and class issues. We didn't come in and say, ‘We're Creative Time, this is our idea, let us do it.' We said, ‘What do you think of this idea?,' and we really listened to what people said. They told us, if you want to do this in our community, you have to be present, you have to live here.
"For a lot of those who came to see the play, it was their first time back in the 9th Ward after Katrina. What we heard from them was, ‘This play mirrors my reality. I'm waiting for FEMA, I'm waiting for relief, I'm waiting to hear from my cousin. Everyone has abandoned us. For someone to come do this here makes so much difference.'"
Another way that CT stays connected to the community is with its "Open Door" sessions. Artists can apply to come in and speak with CT staffers about their ideas for public arts project. "We give them advice," says Pasternak. "It's not a pitch session, it's practical feedback on how to make their idea a reality." Most CT projects develop from the organization approaching an artist. Those wanting to work with the organization should keep an eye on its Web site (creativetime.org) for a request for proposals.
With as many as half a dozen different projects in production in any given year, Pasternak brings her own personal credo to her role at Creative Time. "My father said, ‘If you're not learning, you might as well die,'" she says. "Life is worth living in a situation where you're constantly challenging yourself." That translates to plenty of interesting art for the people of New York and beyond. ■







