The Twin Towers in lower Manhattan collapsed more than 22 years ago, but Philipp Petit continues to walk the wire.
“I will never retire, this idea is foreign to me,” he says, after being closer than anyone to God walking a tightrope at the Cathedral of Saint John Divine, on the Upper West Side. At 74, he is back in his territory.
The French tightrope walker reached the peak of fame on August 7, 1974. At 400 meters above the level of the asphalt he walked through the air between the two skyscrapers of the World Trade Center. It was the most outstanding performance of his career, described as “the artistic crime of the century.”
While he danced, lay down, waved or crossed the void from one side to the other, up to eight times, at each end there were police officers waiting to catch him for this reckless challenge of vandalism. The uniformed officers had to hold back for almost an hour.
This week, however, 1,400 people gathered for an entrance fee at the temple of the Episcopalian diocese to see what is now a hero. No sign of police on the prowl. Petit is no longer a disturber of public order. Today he is an institutionalized artist.
“It's fascinating to be waiting to experience this firsthand. I still remember, and it was 50 years ago, the commotion that arose in this city over the Word Trade Center,” explains Steve, a nonagenarian, a lifelong New Yorker, restless like a child to observe this urban legend up close. .
“Seeing how he develops his talent is a spectacle worth following,” he sighs.
“This man is the demonstration of what can be done with perseverance and courage. He is an inspiration and I go anywhere to see him,” emphasizes Bob More, one of those who has a preferential seat, almost under the wire.
He says that he has spoken with the tightrope walker on several occasions. A few months ago she shared with Petit a screening of the documentary Man on the Wire, which James Marsh directed in 2008 and which won an Oscar. She could ask him if he was afraid when crossing the towers.
–I wasn't scared at all.
Then he made a nuance.
–Except in the first step. Before starting I check the installation, but this time I had to trust someone on the other side to secure the cable. When I took the first step I knew everything was fine.
There was another issue. Bob's companion intervenes. “How many arrows did you carry?” Petit used a bow and arrow to cast a fishing line that allowed him to pass the 200 kilo steel cable. “She told us only one. That makes you think about how confident she was, she never thought she would fail. Is incredible".
The setting in Saint John is moving. In the middle of this cathedral, considered the largest in the world, they have placed the wire widthwise, four meters from the ground. 1,100 ribbons hang from the ceiling. Together they add up to 25.7 kilometers. They are of different colors as if it were an immense forest, the work of Anne Patterson, through which the tightrope walker will travel.
“I think that this beauty is an expression of God and human creativity is also an expression of God,” emphasizes the dean of the cathedral, Patrick Malloy, to justify this montage with a juggler included.
This is a familiar space for Petit. It has crossed the 183 meter length twice.
This time he travels the width of the route five times. Fifteen minutes of joy and enjoyment, and some nerves, especially when seeing how the artist gets tangled with the tapes and how he gets out of trouble. He does it by performing a dance, as if nothing had happened. Pure delight for the audience, surrendered to this luminous and musical show.
“It was a technical challenge, but I knew that crossing the ribbons would produce a great visual impact,” emphasizes Petit when taking selfies with fans after the show concludes.
Small, smiling, without an iota of fat, with graceful movements, he appears covering his clothing with a very circus-style striped bathrobe.
A journalist tells him that the spectators were on the edge of their seats during his exercise. “I would say that when I walk the cable people are always on the edge of their seats, even when they're standing,” she jokes.
“My secret is the passion for this profession. I'm no longer that 18-year-old, but I think I have more control over my movements on the wire than when I started," he clarifies.
“Your body doesn't matter, because it's all in the head. I will never retire,” she insists. “Well,” he accepts, “the day my body refuses to walk will be the time to retire.”
