The facts and figures behind Olafur Eliasson%u2019s The New York City Waterfalls are impressive. Located at four points along the East River in lower Manhattan, the falls cost $15.5 million to build and involved an American-based crew of almost 200 engineers, designers, consultants, permitting specialists, and electricians. There were also scores of architects, engineers, craftsmen, and assistants employed by Eliasson%u2019s own Berlin-based %u201Claboratory for spatial research,%u201D not to mention the gargantuan effort of the Public Art Fund. Things were so specialized that on a boat ride the night of the opening a man told me his job was to coordinate the little red lights atop each fall to protect low-flying aircraft. The fact sheet on the falls says the tallest one is higher than the Statue of Liberty; the other three are as tall as nine- to twelve-story buildings. That%u2019s big.
Yet the waterfalls seem dinkier than you%u2019d think. And they%u2019re not spectacular. From the South Street Seaport, where you can supposedly see all four, the one near the Manhattan Bridge is almost hidden. Some viewers may have trouble finding the one by Governors Island. You can%u2019t hear any of them so you%u2019re never really overwhelmed by the sound of pouring water. In addition, it%u2019s obvious that these aren%u2019t waterfalls at all; they%u2019re just plumbing, tall metal scaffoldings with pipes pumping cascades of water off the top. So don%u2019t go to The New York City Waterfalls wanting to be wowed.
But you may be wooed. I was. For all the effort that went into making them, Eliasson%u2019s falls aren%u2019t about spectacle. They%u2019re like still centers that put you in touch with the physical world around you. They magically stretch the space of lower Manhattan, making the city seem as grand and amazing as it really is. Concentrating on the falls, you begin to glean the different geographic, economic, and industrial environments along the riverfront, how light plays between buildings and water, the way this setting is in constant motion but also oddly still. The waterfall under the Brooklyn Bridge is especially captivating and seems to appear out of nowhere like a portal from another dimension. The Governors Island cascade almost rises up from the surface of water. The one near the Brooklyn Navy Yards is like a primordial water spout. Lit at night, the falls turn ghostly. Coming upon each in a boat is like visiting an alien life form.
Unlike Christo's gates, which came on in a whoosh, then faded fast, Eliasson%u2019s works dawn on you slowly, then produce a stirring calm. I%u2019d take them any day over a glitzy Murakami Buddha or a huge Damien Hirst pregnant woman. By zeroing in on something as temporal as running water %u2014 the falls flow at 35,000 gallons per minute %u2014 Eliasson lifts you out of the moment and places you in a continuum. Whether you like the falls or not, you can't help but smile at the clever twist Eliasson's put on Beatrice Wood's 1917 defense of another piece of abstract plumbing, Marcel Duchamp's Fountain, a found sculpture of a urinal. "The only works of art America has given," wrote Wood, "are her plumbing and her bridges. %u2014 Jerry Saltz
Locations
Between Piers 4 and 5 near the Brooklyn Heights Promenade
Brooklyn Bridge
Governor's Island
Pier 35 near the Manhattan Bridge
The facts and figures behind Olafur Eliasson%u2019s The New York City Waterfalls are impressive. Located at four points along the East River in lower Manhattan, the falls cost $15.5 million to build and involved an American-based crew of almost 200 engineers, designers, consultants, permitting specialists, and electricians. There were also scores of architects, engineers, craftsmen, and assistants employed by Eliasson%u2019s own Berlin-based %u201Claboratory for spatial research,%u201D not to mention the gargantuan effort of the Public Art Fund. Things were so specialized that on a boat ride the night of the opening a man told me his job was to coordinate the little red lights atop each fall to protect low-flying aircraft. The fact sheet on the falls says the tallest one is higher than the Statue of Liberty; the other three are as tall as nine- to twelve-story buildings. That%u2019s big.
Yet the waterfalls seem dinkier than you%u2019d think. And they%u2019re not spectacular. From the South Street Seaport, where you can supposedly see all four, the one near the Manhattan Bridge is almost hidden. Some viewers may have trouble finding the one by Governors Island. You can%u2019t hear any of them so you%u2019re never really overwhelmed by the sound of pouring water. In addition, it%u2019s obvious that these aren%u2019t waterfalls at all; they%u2019re just plumbing, tall metal scaffoldings with pipes pumping cascades of water off the top. So don%u2019t go to The New York City Waterfalls wanting to be wowed.
But you may be wooed. I was. For all the effort that went into making them, Eliasson%u2019s falls aren%u2019t about spectacle. They%u2019re like still centers that put you in touch with the physical world around you. They magically stretch the space of lower Manhattan, making the city seem as grand and amazing as it really is. Concentrating on the falls, you begin to glean the different geographic, economic, and industrial environments along the riverfront, how light plays between buildings and water, the way this setting is in constant motion but also oddly still. The waterfall under the Brooklyn Bridge is especially captivating and seems to appear out of nowhere like a portal from another dimension. The Governors Island cascade almost rises up from the surface of water. The one near the Brooklyn Navy Yards is like a primordial water spout. Lit at night, the falls turn ghostly. Coming upon each in a boat is like visiting an alien life form.
Unlike Christo's gates, which came on in a whoosh, then faded fast, Eliasson%u2019s works dawn on you slowly, then produce a stirring calm. I%u2019d take them any day over a glitzy Murakami Buddha or a huge Damien Hirst pregnant woman. By zeroing in on something as temporal as running water %u2014 the falls flow at 35,000 gallons per minute %u2014 Eliasson lifts you out of the moment and places you in a continuum. Whether you like the falls or not, you can't help but smile at the clever twist Eliasson's put on Beatrice Wood's 1917 defense of another piece of abstract plumbing, Marcel Duchamp's Fountain, a found sculpture of a urinal. "The only works of art America has given," wrote Wood, "are her plumbing and her bridges. %u2014 Jerry Saltz
Locations
Between Piers 4 and 5 near the Brooklyn Heights Promenade
Brooklyn Bridge
Governor's Island
Pier 35 near the Manhattan Bridge [toggle editor]
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