Design Observer

About
Books
Job Board
Newsletters
Archive
Contact



Observatory

About
Resources
Submissions
Contact


Featured Writers

Michael Bierut
William Drenttel
John Foster
Jessica Helfand
Alexandra Lange
Mark Lamster
Paul Polak
Rick Poynor
John Thackara
Rob Walker


Departments

Advertisement
Audio
Books
Collections
Dear Bonnie
Dialogues
Essays
Events
Foster Column
From Our Archive
Gallery
Interviews
Miscellaneous
New Ideas
Opinions
Partner News
Photos
Poetry
Primary Sources
Projects
Report
Reviews
Slideshows
The Academy
Today Column
Unusual Suspects
Video


Topics

Advertising
Architecture
Art
Books
Branding
Business
Cities / Places
Community
Craft
Culture
Design History
Design Practice
Development
Disaster Relief
Ecology
Economy
Education
Energy
Environment
Fashion
Film / Video
Food/Agriculture
Geography
Global / Local
Graphic Design
Health / Safety
History
Housing
Ideas
Illustration
India
Industry
Info Design
Infrastructure
Interaction Design
Internet / Blogs
Journalism
Landscape
Literature
Magazines
Media
Museums
Music
Nature
Obituary
Other
Peace
Philanthropy
Photography
Planning
Poetry
Politics / Policy
Popular Culture
Poverty
Preservation
Product Design
Public / Private
Public Art
Religion
Reputations
Science
Shelter
Social Enterprise
Sports
Sustainability
Technology
Theory/Criticism
Transportation
TV / Radio
Typography
Urbanism
Water


Comments (33) Posted 07.31.08 | PERMALINK | PRINT

Michael Bierut

There is No Why


Man on Wire
Philippe Petit, New York City, August 7, 1974 

The best design movie of 2008 is not about a typeface. It's about a tightrope walker. 

Man on Wire, a thrilling new documentary directed by James Marsh, tells the story of Philippe Petit's 1974 high wire walk between the two towers of the World Trade Center. As a 50-year-old designer who spends more time in meetings than at my (imaginary) drawing board, I find it conveniently reassuring to value concept over execution. Man on Wire shows how easy it is to have an idea, and how hard — and sometimes even miraculous — it is to see it realized.


Petit was a teenager in Paris browsing magazines in a dentist's office when he saw a rendering of the then-unbuilt World Trade Center. He was electrified. He was already an obsessed magician, juggler, and high wire artist. To an aspiring tightrope walker, the idea of two 110-story towers, side by side, suggested only one thing. Petit drew a line between the image of the two towers. All that remained now was the execution.

Making the walk happen took years of planning. Petit sums up his own attitude with characteristic aplomb: "It's impossible, that's for sure. So let's start working." He moved to New York and began visiting the construction site, at one point obtaining access to the top of the towers by posing as a French journalist. He made drawings and took photographs. Returning home, he built a full sized model of the WTC roofs in the French countryside to practice the walk. Getting all the necessary equipment up to the tops of the towers was not a one-man job. He recruited a group of confederates, a colorful multinational troupe who offer conflicting present-day memories throughout the film, and who each played a different role in what they privately called the coup. The plan was not just bold but actually rather insane: their solution for the hardest part of the whole scheme, for instance, getting the wire from one tower to the other, a span of nearly 200 feet, was to use a bow and arrow. It worked. Amazingly, it all worked. 

Man on Wire
's biggest, most satisfying surprise is seeing what Petit actually did when the moment of truth finally arrived and he stepped out into the void. I have to admit, I'd always assumed that he simply edged his way inch by inch across the expanse between the towers, teeth gritted and knuckles white, finally making it with relief to the other side. Was this is what I expected from past exposure to "death defying" circus acts, where the danger is always exaggerated while the crowd holds its collective breath? Or, more likely, was I simply projecting how I — and, admit it, you — would have attacked the challenge? 

What happened was quite different. Philippe Petit was out on the wire for more than 45 minutes, crossing back and forth between the towers eight times. One of my favorite characters in the film, Port Authority Police Department Sergeant Charles Daniels, a mustachioed New York 70s cop straight out of Dog Day Afternoon, later described to news cameras what he saw when he was sent up to persuade Petit to surrender: 

I observed the tightrope "dancer" — because you couldn't call him a "walker" — approximately halfway between the two towers. And upon seeing us he started to smile and laugh and he started going into a dancing routine on the high wire. And when he got to the building we asked him to get off the high wire but instead he turned around and ran back out into the middle. He was bouncing up and down. His feet were actually leaving the wire and then he would resettle back on the wire again. Unbelievable, really. 

It had taken six years of work and planning to get to that moment, and Philippe Petit never wanted it to end. His greatest dream, unbelievably, had come true.  He was 24 years old.

He finally surrendered to the police. In the film he remembers that the only moment he actually feared for his safety was when he was being hustled down the WTC stairs. Back on earth, he was mobbed by reporters, all with the same question: why?

"There is no why, " he said. "When I see three oranges, I juggle; when I see two towers, I walk."

Like many in the theater, I was crying at this point. It was all so senselessly brave and beautiful. And, of course, there was another reason: although it's never mentioned in the film, you are constantly reminded — especially as you watch Petit and his accomplices plan their audacious but benevolent "crime" — that the World Trade Center towers no longer exist. 

When my wife and I first moved to New York in 1980, Dorothy's first job was in World Trade Center Tower Two. Alas, only the twelfth floor. I visited her after she started and we went up to check out the view from the Observation Deck. We never saw Petit there, although in the face of public acclaim after his coup, Petit had been given a lifetime pass. But we saw something else, a little hard to see but clearly visible once you knew what to look for: Petit's autograph, the date of his triumph, and a little drawing of two towers connected by a single line, a replica of the idea that started it all. 

Along with so much else, that autograph is gone now. But Philippe Petit is still with us, living in Woodstock, New York, and serving as artist in residence at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. And, thanks to Man on Wire, so is the timeless lesson of the power of a simple idea, beautifully realized.
Share This Story

RELATED POSTS


How We Learned to Live with Zombies


Lost Rivers


Journey’s End: Wim Wenders in Texas


Camino del Diablo


Staring Back at Security Cameras



RSS Subscribe to Comment Feed

Comments (33)   |   JUMP TO MOST RECENT >>

Nice one! Can't wait to see this.
jg
08.04.08 at 02:36

Many thanks.
This sentence contains the mystery and the facination:
"It was all so senselessly brave and beautiful."
The thought of something being senselessly brave. Senslessly beautiful.

I look forward to seeing the film.
boblet
08.04.08 at 05:49

I like the photograph of Petit’s autograph by Brian Rose. How did you find it?
Carl W. Smith
08.04.08 at 05:49

I can imagine seeing the film and quite look forward to it. What I can't get my head around is standing in the same place that it happened, and having had that place be a part of my life experience.

For me, Design Observer is at its best, when the contributors share not only observation, not only critical analysis, but intermingle these
with accounts of your personal and professional past.

At risk of being yet another cheerleader "good one!" comment, I sincerely enjoyed this. Mr. Beirut, Thank you.
Randy J. Hunt
08.04.08 at 08:29

i just saw this movie at the traverse city film festival,
and it is probably one of my favorite movies ever.

in total agreement with your post michael.
carl bean-larson
08.04.08 at 08:30

"When I see three oranges, I juggle; when I see two towers, I walk."

What a wonderful quote. Sometimes things are, and should be, as simple as that.
Jon Dascola
08.04.08 at 09:11

it all started with a little drawing...
chacha
08.04.08 at 10:56

I read Petit's fascinating account of this in his book To Reach the Clouds some years back and was completely taken. The most beautiful work of art. Of course there is a why; it's in "when I see two towers...".
Fredrik Jönsson
08.04.08 at 11:56

For my money, the best retelling of Petit's story is in The Man Who Walked Between the Towers by Mordicai Gerstein, a marvelous picture book for children.
James
08.04.08 at 01:12

I've lived in NYC my entire life and I've never heard about this until now. Thank you for writing about this amazing event. I feel like an idiot though but at the same time I love learning about new events in history that happened before I was born.
Antonio
08.04.08 at 01:56

As I watched (or rather, witnessed) this documentary, I felt the sense of absolute purity in the idea alone. The idea becomes an unexplainable experience. Ultimately, powerful ideas are sentient and self-sufficient.

There's a mountain. Let's climb it!
Eddie Jacobson
08.04.08 at 03:33

cool links, thanks!,
TyroneGlover
08.04.08 at 04:39

Mind blowing. 24 years old!!! What a mad man.
Ian Shimkoviak
08.04.08 at 06:21

I haven't yet seen the film, but a colleague of mine at The Paley Center for Media has noted that there is very little film documentation of the walk/dance itself: "The time is 1974, just before the videocassette revolution, which ushered in a new consciousness of media documentation."

However, the act is so miraculous, it may have been best captured by still photography. Will that ever again be the case?

You can see his whole post here
M.A.Peel
08.04.08 at 08:32

This article was written beautifully. What a great story. Thanks.
Tanner
08.04.08 at 08:53

I bought The Man Who Walked Between the Towers for my own kids and soon after decided the only civilized thing to do was to keep passing it on at the American-Girl-and-Power-Ranger-packed birthday parties we attend. Disbelieving kids and adults alike are always - always - mesmerized, including myself, no matter how many times I read it (and then, inevitably, Google it.) Glad to see Petit get a nod here. We can't afford to lose him to history.
Maureen
08.05.08 at 03:14

cool links, thanks!,
FritzBlake9
08.05.08 at 07:54

Great movie. And I loved the source of its no-article title.
Scott
08.05.08 at 09:20

"Petit drew a line between the image of the two towers. "

... All it takes is the courage to dream and make it happen.
mbagla
08.05.08 at 11:04

This just looks amazing. I can't wait to see it.
porter
08.05.08 at 03:54

On January 11, 2002, at a NYFA benefit for artists affected by September 11, I sat underneath Philippe Petit as he walked a tightrope that was strung up in the Hammerstein Ballroom. It was the end of an often-tedious, hastily-arranged evening of celebrity art-world figures where the only bright (and chilling) spot was Fran Leibowitz reading the introduction of E.B. White's "This is New York" (from 1949):

The city, for the first time in its long history, is destructible. A single flight of planes no bigger than a wedge of geese can quickly end this island fantasy, burn the towers, crumble the bridges, turn the underground passages into lethal chambers, cremate the millions. The intimation of mortality is part of New York now; in the sounds of jets overhead, in the black headlines of the latest editions.

All dwellers in cities must live with the stubborn fact of annihilation; in New York the fact is somewhat more concentrated because of the concentration of the city itself, and because, of all targets, New York has a certain clear priority. In the mind of whatever perverted dreamer might loose the lightning, New York must hold a steady, irresistible charm.


The wire -- strung between the stage and balcony -- was at what seemed to be too steep an angle. Petit started at the stage, and slowly, slowly, made his way up, and out of sight.
m. kingsley
08.05.08 at 04:11

Great movie. And I loved the source of its no-article title.

Scott, I didn't want to have to post a spoiler alert, but I too wondered about why it wasn't "Man on a Wire" or "The Man on the Wire." So it's a really charming moment when you see, towards the end of the movie, the source of the title's peculiar construction. (You'll have to see for yourself!)
Michael Bierut
08.05.08 at 06:12

Wonderful film, wonderful post. Thank you, Michael.
debbie millman
08.07.08 at 12:08

I can wait to see this film. Thanks for sharing this with us.
Julio Ramos
08.10.08 at 05:28

He still hangs out in Summer in washington square park - I had the pleasure of meeting him last year in NYC - Real Cool guy
And for anyone interested in design, your blog is a reference that I have the pleasure to come back to
Thanks
French wedding Photographer
olivierlalin
08.13.08 at 08:42

In the WTC episode of Ric Burns' documentary on New York City, Petit has a big role; it was the first time I'd heard him talk about it all. I wrote a rambling post about it in 2006.
Virtual Memories
08.21.08 at 08:38

Michael, I heartily agree it's a great little film. Naturally after having walked all the cables of the cable bridges in New York (in the 80's) I have the most tremendous respect for this accomplishment and the romance of the idea. Years ago Paul Binder, the founder of the Big Apple Circus introduced us to Phillipe over drinks and when it came time to pay he had taken my partner's wallet without any of us seeing it and put it on the table to pay.

My only reservation about the film was the use of contemporary images of downtown New York, which are so different than those of the WTC in the 70's with the abandoned elevated highway and the beaches on the water.

A good tribute to a great artist.
Nic
Nicholas Goldsmith
09.04.08 at 12:31

There is a why. It's called Bat. Sh*t. Insane.
STail
11.02.08 at 01:29

Saw Man on Wire flying home from Ethiopia in January. Just put it on my NetFlix list to watch again at home on the big (13") screen TV. Loved the movie, even more so because of the more recent implications of the now-gone towers. That they had such an artistic statement imposed upon them in their day is a nice way to remember them.
Christopher Brown
02.24.09 at 10:40

A joy. Sweet spot in the film is a close-up of the summons issued to Petit by the police.
It says reason for summons. ”MAN ON WIRE”.
Richard
02.25.09 at 05:38

Michael,
Thank you for this review. You bring up one of the most remarkable elements of this film: its relationship to 9/11. Man on Wire manages to say everything important about it without saying a word. It's so odd that civilization's most elegant response to that tragedy actually occurred well before it.
May we all find our towers and have the courage to dance across them smiling.
-WMyers


WMyers
03.03.09 at 11:02

Saw the film. Mesmerizing. Then had the chance to meet Philippe Petit after the question and answer that followed the movie. I thanked him for his gift to us. So beautiful.
Chris Dina
09.12.09 at 12:12

This is such a cool story, I believe that the proof is all around us, and modern science and the massive increase in knowledge shows even more proof of a higher being!
Ann futz
01.12.10 at 08:44



LOG IN TO POST A COMMENT
Don't have an account? Create an account. Forgot your password? Click here.

Email


Password




|
Share This Story



Michael Bierut studied graphic design at the University of Cincinnati, and has been a partner in the New York office of Pentagram since 1990. Michael is a Senior Critic in Graphic Design at the Yale School of Art.
More >>

DESIGN OBSERVER JOBS









BOOKS BY Michael Bierut

Seventy-nine Short Essays on Design
Princeton Architectural Press, 2007

Forty Posters for the Yale School of Architecture
Winterhouse Editions, 2007

Looking Closer 5
Allworth Press, 2006

Looking Closer 4
Allworth Press, 2002

Looking Closer 3
Allworth Press, 1999

More books by contributors >>