CHRISTO'S UNHEARD-OF MASTERPIECE

Because he defected from Communist Bulgaria and settled first in France and then in the United States, Christo Yavacheff was not much talked about in the country while he was still alive. Born in Gabrovo on the northern slopes of the Stara Planina mountain range, in 1934, Christo fled the country in the 1950s. At that point, not unlike other East bloc intellectuals who had escaped from Communism, he ceased to exist as far as the local media were concerned. His name would resurface only after the fall of the Berlin Wall and the disintegration of the Warsaw Pact.

In 1958 Christo married the Frenchwoman, Jeanne-Claude de Guillebon (who was born on the same day as himself). Together they gained notoriety worldwide both for their inimitable artistic style and for their methods.

It is difficult to describe in a single article the wealth of ideas, sentiments and artistic propositions of their  oeuvre, which inevitably included large-scale, site-specific environmental installations. Some of the best examples include the Pont Neuf Wrapped, in Paris; The Gates, in New York City's Central Park; the Mastaba in London; The Wrapped Reichstag, in Berlin; The Running Fence, in California; and The Floating Piers on Lake Iseo, Italy.

To realise their large-scale and obviously very expensive projects, Christo and Jean-Claude refused grants, donations and any form of public funding. Instead they worked closely with banks and accumulated their money through the sale of their own artworks.

Jean-Claude died in 2009. Until his own death, in 2020, Christo continued to plan and execute projects.

Art historians and the general public may have thought they knew everything about Christo's work, which is to be seen in various museums and galleries all over the world. So, their amazement at a recent discovery in the Bulgarian town of Burgas, at the Black Sea coast, was no doubt authentic as much as it was unexpected.

What are the facts?

By some odd twist of fate, a visitor to Burgas noted a new sports hall, situated in the urban forest of Communist-era housing estates on the western outskirts of town. The visitor, who wishes to remain anonymous, was perplexed. There was this huge and obviously very expensive new building that seemed finished, but not quite. Locals went past it without casting an eye. The car park was deserted. The only lights around were emergency.

Our visitor attempted to do some improvised vox pop, but found the passers-by uncooperative: no one wanted to discuss the "monstrosity" as that would inevitably involve "squandered funds," "delays" and "corruption." What our visitor did understand was  that since its "completion" a few years ago the huge hall, designed to ensure 6,100 visitors could sit down simultaneously, has  rarely been used – if at all. Yet, its design was amazing. It evoked... world-famous art.

Through the day the visitor to Burgas wondered what exactly the new sports hall reminded him of. As he racked his mind and swore to reread all art history books he owned, he became increasingly desperate, and went out for a walk, hoping the fresh sea air would clear his head. And then, as he approached the entrance to the old Port of Burgas, it dawned on him.

Documents unearthed at the Communist-era State Security files revealed Christo and Jean-Claude had made a clandestine visit to Burgas in the 1980s, using false names and pretending to be West German tourists bound for Sunny Beach. They kept their intention to put Burgas on the art map of the world very hush-hush, but they did leave a few restaurants napkins with what our visitor deciphered as drawings for the Mastaba in London. Later, in the 1990s, when Christo did pack the Reichstag in Berlin, it transpired from undisclosed sources that his original intention was to pack some Warsaw Pact military barracks at the edge of Burgas. The new sports hall was in actual fact constructed over some disused military installations right on that spot.

Our visitor plans to return to Burgas on 1 April and deliver a file with his documented findings to the mayoral office. The media and some select guests will be waiting for the sensation in front of the City Hall at 5pm sharp. Then they will repair to the nearest bar to celebrate what will probably go down in history as the unravelling of one of the art world's biggest mysteries.

If you want to be a part of the fun, make sure you are in Burgas at a quarter to 5pm, on 1 April.