Page 2 of Fixture

PART TWO

   

  THE TREE OF LIFE

   

  We should begin with a general survey of the origins of the Seventh Renaissance. It should not be ignored that The Renaissance was artificially induced. In the midst of global military conflict, President Harper and his corporate advisors decided to divert attention from the conflict by launching a massive public works campaign. The centerpiece of this jewel of central planning was the construction of an ultramodern metropolitan city. Every region of the country got its share of the public monies however. Streets were repaved, old buildings were restored, new ones were built, everyone received a piece of the illusory pie. The newspapers and other newer media played the role of cultural cheerleaders, with high-flown phrases about restoring dignity and pride to the country. Any properly cynical person could see right through the hype, but the citizens were made to believe that they were truly living through a brand new renaissance, a whole new era of the world.

  We can say that painlessly today, but at the time no one would admit the obvious truth, and every line was swallowed. In any case, it was during this initial period of the renaissance that the Fourth Fidelity decided to construct its new headquarters. To complement their hideous scheme, they commissioned Darian Fark to build them a centerpiece.

  The story of the Fixture covers no less than twenty four years, from the beginning to the end. This is no simple story. Instead, it is a nightmare of delay and interruption, scandal and intrigue, bankruptcy, lawsuits and strikes, tragedy and farce, confusion and interminable, impossible, unimaginable frustration.

  I'll start from the beginning, which was the moment Darian Fark agreed to do the project. He presented a list of demands to the bankers. There has been a lot of controversy about the terms of this agreement, and many of its clauses are still in litigation today. Darian requested unrestricted expression of his freedom, and started the work slightly before the freedom was granted. He could never place restrictions on himself or limit the types of materials he would use. No timetable was given completion of the work - it was never to be due at any time. Also, it was to cost no more than two point seven million dollars, adjustable for future inflation.

  When the Greater Depression came along, with its incredible inflation, Fourth Fidelity was to go to court and lose, not just a lawsuit, but untold millions of dollars because of this aspect of the contract. But by that time, of course, the Fixture had already spread its wings, and left the shallow confines of the Fourth Fidelity courtyard far behind.

  But perhaps the most important clause stated that there could be no restriction on the size of Darian’s construction. This was to lead to the most unforeseen and unpredictable consequences possible.

  No one seems to know what Darian had in mind for this work. No sketches or designs were ever found. We only know that Darian was alleged to have said to Seraphim Jones that “this thing will be alive, and it will never die.” The authenticity of this statement has been vigorously disputed, and I don't care to express any opinion on this subject. We can legitimately doubt the words of Mr. Jones, but if we do, we have precious little else to go on.

  Darian himself said nothing on the subject until he was forced to in a court of law. He prefaced everything he said in the court with “This is what I know to be true”. For now let's say the Fixture was originally a mystery to all concerned, probably even to the artist. Fourth Fidelity were hoping for another Dinosaur, the citizens hoped for something new and different, and Darian Fark was ready to embark upon the achievement of his destiny.

  The first visible portion of the Fixture was unceremoniously cemented into the middle of the bank’s courtyard by Darian himself on a cold winter morning. This initial portion was a modest piece, a slab of drab gray granite, eight inches wide, twenty seven inches long, three inches high, and smooth and flat on top, except for several holes. After installing this first piece Darian left. He returned once more, the following day, to inspect the work, and then he did not appear again until mid summer of the same year.

  The slab of stone became a running joke, especially among the workers at the site. They presumed that Darian had made off with two point seven million dollars for a stupid piece of rock. This was incorrect of course. Darian was busy in his studio. He isolated himself there for six months before resuming active labor at the site. He may have been designing during his studio time, but no designs remain. Speculation on his methods is fruitless. A historian is liable only to report the facts, and on this period we have no physical evidence whatsoever

  He returned to The Fourth Fidelity courtyard in an old and battered pickup truck he had rented out the day before. I have the receipt on this. It is a fact. He worked alone at this time, and as he dragged three heavy iron bars into the center of the courtyard, he realized help would be required. A couple of the Fidelity workmen were glad to help him out, and even refused his offers of payment, but this was one of the last times that anybody ever did a thing for him for free. The group lifted up the bars, and put them into place, on top of spokes which fit into the holes of the slab, and everything was welded into place. He put the biggest bar on the bottom, and the other two on top, parallel to each other, horizontal to the ground.

  It was not an auspicious beginning. It was an ugly and ungainly little structure, and no one knew what could possibly be coming next. As sculpture it was unoriginal and bland. As a base it looked as though it couldn't support much weight and the Fidelity workers started taking bets as to when the thing would simply fall over or crash into the bank, damaging their work.

  But Darian seemed pleased enough, and left the site for three more weeks. Now, even more than in the previous months, it appeared as though the thing might be actually done. But Darian was contracting laborers, and sending bills to Fourth Fidelity, and their doubts were cleared away, their confidence restored, and the Seventh Renaissance continued unabated.

  Upon Darian’s return, construction of the Fixture finally began in earnest. For the next eleven months everyone could see that something big was happening. Darian had a crew of several workers, and a fleet of trucks. The first thing to go up was a massive marble tube six feet high and three feet in diameter, with a two foot high by four foot wide hollowed 'knob' on top. But that wasn't all they did. A large piece of obsidian was inserted into the tube, and a black cast iron beam was welded on the uppermost right corner, extending upward more than twenty feet at a thoroughly impossible angle to remain in balance. Another cast iron beam was implanted on the other side, likewise extending upward but to the left and lower. Now, nobody had any idea just what the hell was going on. The thing was really ugly, and an eyesore too. Several gigantic bright red tubes were jutting out, all at equally impossible angles, all ultimately resting on the ridiculous little base.

  By Autumn, the structure, (It wasn’t called the Fixture at this point) reached a height of twenty seven feet. A number of the plastic tubes were branching over the entire extent of the courtyard. They provided shade, or blocked the sun, depending on your point of view. The tubes were too high for anyone to bump their head on but this fact did not lessen the Fidelity’s concerns with the construction of the project. They were ultimately hoping that Darian would either change his mind and take the structure down or by some miracle it would turn into something wonderful and marvelous.

  Darian didn't hear a word the critics said, or at least he didn't appear to. Gerald McGavin, who hauled materials for Darian would later testify that the artist confided in no one. And never let on just what he was intending. The work seemed totally haphazard, even accidental, as he welded here and bolted there all through the winter time, and by the following spring the thing was turned into a fountain, to the amazement and delight of all concerned.

  The water followed complex and roundabout routes in returning to its source, and no one was ever able to explain the pumping system he'd installed, not even the plumbers who'd helped put it In. We can assume that Darian thought an explanation was unnecessary, but mak
ing any assumptions about Darian is probably unwise. To observers, it appeared that the work was done, in good time, and far under budget. And so one summer day, on the first anniversary of the slab, a christening ceremony was held by the Fourth Fidelity. Many notables from the art world graced the structures presence. They all pretended to admire the elegance but were undoubtedly holding contemptuous thoughts of the creator, evidenced by the venom they would later spew towards Darian as public opinion wavered. The ribbon was cut, cheers erupted from the crowd and the champagne flowed.

  Darian didn't show. He wasn't answering his telephone. No one heard from him for months, then he suddenly announced that he was finally ready to begin. “It's already Done!” They told him. He still had more than two million dollars left, and no limits to his time or space to spend it on. The Fidelity were worried. They didn't want him to continue, and told him to keep the rest of the money. They were sufficiently pleased, they said, but Darian was not. He didn't want the money. He wanted to shape reality.

  Darian had a vision, which he shared with the public for the first time in an interview with Donald Blake,  soon after Fourth Fidelity told him to stop.

  "I have sunk the roots. If you can see with eyes unglazed by history, then you will see the implications of these roots. The rest of the work will follow naturally, as all things spring directly from their roots."

  This may not have answered any questions concerning the work, but the general impression was that Darian Intended to materialize his vision. He wasn't much more specific.

  "The renaissance must have a common unifying factor. What could be more common than life and growth itself?”

  It is clear that all observers at the time failed to comprehend the meaning of these words. They lacked the imagination essential for understanding. How could they understand, Darian was destined to introduce the required concept himself. At least the interview sufficed to stifle opposition, and the challenge he laid down for himself led the Fourth Fidelity to relent and he carried on. They too were curious, and they hoped he'd salvage the mess he had already made.

  Darian entered his greatest period shortly after this. At the time he seemed obsessed. He was working feverishly with his blueprints, scribbles and designs, ordering materials, hiring laborers, overseeing the construction. For an entire year the Fixture grew unabated. The scene of construction was always surrounded by herds of curious spectators. The Fourth Fidelity building opened in the spring, and people watched from the windows as Darian continued his work below. The artist himself was daily at the scene, directing cranes, consulting with his crew, climbing up the fountain and hammering, pounding, sawing, welding, bolting, painting, plastering, cementing. He rarely paused to examine the work, he just knew that it would work.

  He was unusually accessible to the press during this juncture. He would gladly talk about the work, but only about the pieces - never about the whole. He said it was the process that really mattered, the actual doing of the work, and that he wasn't interested in the finished product as such. He was active and open, but he wasn't exactly friendly. His attitude was the very model of sobriety, perhaps reminiscent of his youth. Those who worked beside him said he was a hard man, impossible to please, with an inexhaustible reserve of patience, even tact.

  The people marveled at the sight, and the news that Darian Fark was finally working on his long-awaited masterpiece spread throughout the world, Tourists en masse visited the courtyard and the Fidelity benefited greatly from the publicity.

  We called it the Tree of Life at this point and it certainly looked like one, branching ever upward, outward, downward, inward, in a multitude of colors, and made of every hard material known to man, weaving an intricate pattern of connections, intersections, overlays and parallels, a fountain flowing everywhere at once, extending to a height of more than forty seven feet, completely overshadowing the courtyard; add to this a multitude of sounds, caused by invisible levers, hammers, prongs and springs, activated by the falling water drops, in a harmony of perpetual motion and intricate subtle beauty.

  Darian ran lines of Xenon lighting in crooked patterns throughout the whole huge structure. And on top of it installed a computer controlled evanescent light spectacular. The lights, the sounds, the water, all the branches, the colors and materials and the sheer size of the Tree combined to produce the most sensational effects. This was clearly the most amazing sculpture ever known to man. Construction halted one autumn day, Darian’s 27th birthday actually. And everyone thought the work was finally done. Darian gave no indication either way. He let his workers go, then headed back to his studio.

  The Fixture's success was instantaneous and overwhelming. No one could find the adjectives to describe it. It had to be seen to be believed, and even seen it couldn't be believed. The Fourth Fidelity was stunned. The Fixture covered the first five stories of their building, and their edifice seemed a crude and ugly primitive sort of thing in comparison. Indeed, it was.

  Darian had spent nine hundred thousand dollars on his, whereas the Fidelity had spent some thirty seven million on theirs, and they were embarrassed. But they were glad that it was over, and sent some emissaries to commend him on the work, and reward him personally with a check for the balance of the funds.

  But it was obvious that the Fixture wasn't finished. Looking down from above, many of the branches came abruptly to a halt, and on the top there was an iron platform, ten feet square, with slots and openings intended for other pieces to fit into. So the emissaries should not have been surprised when Darian refused the check and simply stated "I'm not finished yet."

  Publicly a festival was being held, a weeklong ceremony to celebrate the Seventh Renaissance and its glorious centerpiece, the Tree of Life. Darian did not attend.

  Darian may have thought that there was nothing standing in the way of his work’s completion, but if so, he was wrong. The Fourth Fidelity was not amused to learn that he intended to continue with the work. Enough is enough, they said, and they filed the first of what were to be many lawsuits concerning the Fixture. Specifically, they sought a court injunction, prohibiting any further construction on their property. Darian was summoned to the court to testify. He appeared shocked and visibly upset. He asked the court to turn aside the motion, on the grounds that it was a violation of his contract. But the court ruled that the corporation had a right to control activity on its real estate, and moved to grant the bank's request. Darian asked permission to remove some items from the top of the Fixture. This was the only point all parties agreed upon during the entire proceedings.

  The headlines shrieked "FOURTH FIDELITY BLOCKS FARK: ARTIST FORCED TO DECONSTRUCT".

  The citizens were outraged, and the Fourth Fidelity never fully recovered from this loss of prestige. But Darian was unconcerned, and set about removing the upper platform, and a few assorted branches. Overall the effect was deemed beneficial by the bank, for the top now looked complete, and approximately rounded. The scandal blew over quickly, as Darian refused to sue the Bank as many citizens suggested he should do. He had other things in mind. He withdrew into seclusion once again to contemplate the future of his Fixture.

  Many still believe that the Tree of Life portion of the Fixture is its greatest part, and Darian's greatest achievement, while the rest of the monument was merely an aberration. First of all, Darian never referred to this portion by that name. Secondly, we only see it as a tree because we are expecting to, and every similar shape tends automatically to be lumped together with its most characteristic representative. This tendency overlooks the metaphorical possibilities.

  But Darian customarily referred to that portion as “the original growth” or “the blueprint in the seed”, thus insinuating that this was not an end unto itself, but merely the basic material to be evolved upon. He called it “a spreading shape”, indicating its primal tendency, rather than a final goal. The implications should be clear. The misnamed Tree was intended to be the common ancestor of all the later developments, and nothing mor
e than that. It was a symbol of primordial shape, including all potentials invisibly within it, a launching pad, the illusion of the beginning which actually never authentically begins.

  At this point, Darian paid a visit to the mayor, Benjamin Wick. According to the latter's testimony, Darian asked him to negotiate with Fourth Fidelity on his behalf. Specifically, Darian said he was willing to abide by the judgment of the court concerning the bank's own property, but since the Fixture was intended as a gift to the city itself, he would like permission to continue the work on adjacent properties. Fourth Fidelity, you'll remember, was still obliged to pay one point eight million dollars toward the work, and to honor the no-limits clause of the agreement. Darian was ready to compromise. All he wanted was a final settlement with the bank, and the official support of the city to continue his work. We can wonder what might have occurred had the courts not swayed in Darian’s favor. Perhaps Darian would have continued without consent, believing in his work so much that he could not stop constructing.

  Shortly after he won his case the next phase of his work began. An enormous inverted V was constructed, seventy eight feet at the apex, and landing squarely on the ground on the other side of Rambler Street, just behind a Burger Joint. It was made of the slickest plastic, coated with oily polyurethane to prevent anyone from climbing up too far. At the base, a maze of limber and cement, with hundreds of tiny passageways, too small even for rodents. Only insects and water could navigate the structure. The overall shape of this thing was a centahedron containing a hundred other hidden centahedrons within it.

  Darian’s work did not go smoothly. The Burger Joint filed suit against the Fourth Fidelity and Darian Fark, citing zoning laws and alleged safety violations. Darian was undeterred. He enshrouded the monstrous thing with a mesh of mildly charged electric netting, and agreed to surround the base, including the intricate maze, with a twelve foot barbed wire hurricane fence, which he adorned with more of his impossibly soft lights. He was determined to appease all enemies, at whatever cost, provided the work itself could proceed according to his plan.

  The point is that henceforth he had to fight for every inch, and the rest of the story is of his battle against an array of various opponents. He conducted this struggle in the name of art, and in the name of the Seventh Renaissance. It was a long, protracted war, but he was determined not to lose. He put the common interest above the private interests he ran up against, and his strength didn't fail, his resolve never weakened, despite the ever shifting tides of public sentiment.

  It must be noted that throughout these years, Darian was something of a public hero. You'd be surprised how easily many people fell for the old renaissance routine. Trained in gullibility, and ready to worship the market of the Fidelity, they were fully convinced that this period of resurgence was a genuine, spontaneous expression of a brand new generation of creative artists, rather than the empty and contrived illusion it really was. For the city’s constituents, Darian Fark was synonymous with the renaissance, and after his legal hassles with the bank, Darian was loved and adulated by the population at large. In short, he could do no wrong. Anyone who opposed him in those days was automatically vilified by the corporate-owned media , to whom he was a living symbol of both visible progress and the promised endless growth of a vivified economy. Those were free spending times.

  And so, Darian was able to push through a number of extraordinary ventures, despite the legitimate complaints of rightful owners whose properties he was wantonly trespassing. Even the courts gave in to media pressure, and ruled in Darian's favor every time a business tried to sue for an injunction. The list of Darian’s plaintiffs grew long - including seven restaurants, a private law school, two major supermarkets, and a host of other, smaller, property owners and businessmen.

  A detailed explanation of his work at this time shall be reserved for a later portion of the book. I must however mention a few things here. One, that Darian had a number of people working for him now, general contractors, artisan plumbers, anyone who asked and wanted to contribute. Two, inflation had begun in earnest to increase his available resources. And three, Darian began to attract some criticism within the art world, mostly brining it upon himself by his increasingly vociferous and harsh attacks upon the customary standards of the day.

  By way of prefacing what follows next, I'd like to mention some of Darian's profound views and theories. He believed that artificial shapes (circles, squares, etc...) had long since outlived their usefulness, that adding artificial colors to materials was wrong, that anthropomorphic use of natural shapes and creatures was insane, that any purely abstract conception was ridiculous and garbage, that sculpture as well as every art has no function but to be, no meaning other than its being, no purpose in any human manner; in short, that art has no value. This was pretty heavy stuff, even for those times, and these views, which he frequently expressed, made him many enemies among his fellow artists. That listing of ideas will prove essential to the comprehension of the Fixture, particularly in its original, initial phase. But keep in mind that what we are discussing now is only a portion of the total work itself, which was not to be completed, if indeed it ever was, for many, many years after this brief three-year phase.