This week, my mother and I took a leisurely, lovely stroll through Central Park, arriving at the Metropolitan Museum of Art to visit a wildly popular rooftop exhibit called Big Bambú: You Can’t, You don’t and You Won’t Stop.
This massive structure, which is continually constructed and destructed through the duration of the exhibit, is an extensive network of 5,000 interlocking 30- and 40-foot-long fresh-cut bamboo poles, tied together with 50 miles of nylon rope. This site-specific installation measures 100 feet long, 50 feet wide and 50 feet high.
The artists, identical twins Doug and Mike Starn, work collaboratively with a team of rock climbers who assemble the complex arrangement of materials.
Taking the shape of a cresting wave, the artwork starts as a massive tower created from lashed together bamboo poles. At its zenith, the evolving architecture being built from within (no outside scaffolding or support) will beam out as far as the bamboo network allows, and then will bridge down to the floor.
From here, the first tower will be dismantled and carried through the structure to create another monumental tower and then on again, moving through the roof deck as though it was a Slinky.
An internal footpath route system grows within the structure and allows visitors to explore the intricacies and evolving nature of the project.
Similar to its backdrop of fall approaching Central Park and the urban landscape of the city, Big Bambú connects sculpture, nature and architecture. The continuing creation and evolving rebirths of Big Bambú reminded me of the ongoing interplay of chaos and serenity, of order and energy. I stood baffled under the interlocking pieces of this ever-changing living organism. Its disarray creates its organized structure, inspiring feelings of interconnectedness. Nothing ever stands alone; everything is cyclical. Big Bambú is an autonomous mountain, navigating the environment and dictating its own path. It is a work of artistic play, of wonder and of mystical genius.
Our visit was both energizing and inspiring, as both my mom and I were utterly amazed at such a creative expression of life.
Doug Starn explains perfectly, “It represents me- in that I am who I was, and, I am completely different than I was when I was a little boy.”.
