It's a glorious brisk day here in New York City.
I am literally looking at a pair of sneakers hanging from telephone wires.
SARAH URIST GREEN: We are.
It's a cliche of New York beauty.
JOHN GREEN: Yeah, seriously.
SARAH URIST GREEN: We're here today at Long Island City, Queens, at Flux Factory.
JOHN GREEN: They used to manufacture greeting cards here, but now apparently they manufacture flux.
So what they really do is host exhibitions, events, potluck dinners, art salons, all types of things.
And they emphasize the collaborative process.
They strongly believe that art gets better and more interesting when people work together and share resources.
Today we're meeting with Douglas Paulson and Christopher Robbins.
JOHN GREEN: Christopher Robin!
SARAH URIST GREEN: Christopher Robbins.
JOHN GREEN: Oh, that's a little disappointing.
They're both independent artists and work on their own, but they've collaborated on projects in the past.
And today they're here to present an assignment to you on which they've worked together.
I'm very excited about it.
This is going to be a good one.
So let's go check it out.
Let's do it.
I'm Doug.
I'm Chris.
This is our art assignment.
SARAH URIST GREEN: Christopher Robbins is an artist and promoter of international development.
He built his own hut in Benin, West Africa and has lived all over the world and in Nebraska, where he built a birdhouse big enough to sleep in and tried to drag it to the ocean.
He co-founded the Ghana Thinktank, which collects community issues in the so-called first world and sends them to think tanks in Ghana, Morocco, El Salvador, and elsewhere.
Douglas Paulson is a serial collaborator.
He turned this sculpture by Sasson Soffer into a live-in structure and site for concerts, meetings, and barbecues.
And he gathered urban planners, artists, and kids together to design and build a city for 30 kitties.
CHRISTOPHER ROBBINS: So basically I was looking for artists who I thought they are using art as an excuse to have an adventure.
That's how I read it.
And I started writing artists that seemed to fit that category with leading questions, so that they'd say that and I could stick that in people's faces, I guess.
And Doug was one of the group of artists with Parfyme who I felt fit into that category.
So that's how I first reached out to Doug.
So I get this email out of nowhere, from this guy we never heard of, who's saying, do you consider yourself auto interventionists, intervening in your own life?
And it was like this light bulb went off.
And we were like, oh, yeah.
That's exactly what we're doing.
And it was funny.
I remember when you wrote me, you were like hey, we're both in Europe now.
You're living in Serbia, I'm living in Copenhagen.
Let's meet halfway.
I thought I was being a smart ass by saying, oh yeah, halfway.
And I looked at Google Earth, and here's the exact halfway point.
Is this what you meant?
And he was like yeah, exactly!
That's what I meant.
JOHN GREEN: So to get a little more specific, Doug was living in Copenhagen, and Chris was living in Serbia.
And the exact geographical midpoint between the two of them was the middle of this lake in the Czech Republic that turned out to be full of agricultural runoff.
Anyway, so they agreed to meet at high noon on April 29, 2008.
And their rules were as follows.
One, no communication between agreeing to meet and meeting at the actual lake.
Two, Chris brings lunch.
Three, Doug brings drinks.
Four, don't be late.
DOUGLAS PAULSON: Your art assignment.
Find someone, draw a line between the two of you, meet exactly in the middle.
Once you've agreed on your halfway point and your date and time, you're not allowed to speak to each other by any means.
No email, no Skype, no telephone.
You just agree to meet at that point.
Hold on, I understand why this is like beautiful and metaphorically resonant.
But this is not the metaphorically resonant assignment.
It's the art assignment.
Like, why is that art?
Really?
Yeah!
Are we really going to have this conversation?
Yes.
OK, well, people, have been arguing for a long time that art doesn't have to be an object or material.
It can be something like Roy Ascott said, like triggers for experiences instead.
All right, but I just have to say that on some level to me, art is painting.
Well, it's still that.
It's just that it's also this too now.
The definition has broadened.
I mean, there's a lot of art historical precedence for this.
Really?
Like what?
I'll show you.
Meet in the middle echoes such performances as Marina Abramovic and Ulay's "The Great Wall Walk" of 1988.
After hearing the only human constructions visible from the moon were the pyramids and the Great Wall of China, Abramovic and Ulay made plans to walk toward each other from opposite ends of the wall, meet in the middle, and get married.
But in the eight years it took to gain permission from the Chinese government, their relationship fell apart.
They decided the walk would mark the end of their collaboration.
And they each walked 2,500 kilometers to meet in the middle and say good bye.
Other art meetings include Francis Alys's 1999 performance duet, in which he entered Venice by train, while his friend arrived at the airport, each carrying one half of a tuba.
After several days of roaming the labyrinthine streets of the city, they eventually found each other, put the instrument back together, and played a single note.
While their motivations differ, the works have in common a very human exploration of our built environment.
Each project makes geography and architecture tangible and personal, demanding we grapple directly with space and time in the world we've built.
It also begs the question who, if anyone, can you trust to meet you in the middle.
Who do you trust to hold the other half of your tuba?
Part of this is about being extremely inventive and thinking through the problems and anticipating them.
And if we were neighbors, we were like next door neighbors, and we had to meet in the middle, we would have to take a piece of plywood across the roofs and draw a line and say this is the spot.
It's about re-imagining the way you understand space.
What this does is it forces an adventure in some place that we take for granted every day.
And that's the reality.
There are-- I mean, we are surrounded by adventure, if we just knock on a different door than we do every day.
Well, we're going to figure out the halfway point between my place and yours.
And then we're going to meet there for, I guess, a late lunch.
DOUGLAS PAULSON: That's right.
CHRISTOPHER ROBBINS: So 3:30 tomorrow.
And this time I'll remember you're a vegetarian.
DOUGLAS PAULSON: Yeah, thanks.
CHRISTOPHER ROBBINS: Hey, how are you doing?
How are you?
We're at Purchase College.
I teach sculpture at SUNY Purchase and started at my house this morning, drove down here, taught the class and now finishing my halfway travel to go meet Doug.
It looks like it's somewhere in New Rochelle.
So this is where I live up here, in the green.
Here's where Doug lives, down here in the gray.
This is where we're meeting.
When you leave New York City, just being a pedestrian is suspicious.
[laughter] Shouldn't you be driving?
So let's just try to walk natural.
I really don't want to bump into Doug until we're actually at the halfway point.
And I think I've guessed how he's going to get there.
So I'm going to try to take a route different from his, so that we're really pure about how this works out.
And we actually don't see each other until that halfway point.
DOUGLAS PAULSON: I think it's this one here, with that white-- SARAH URIST GREEN: With the awning?
DOUGLAS PAULSON: With the awning and the basketball hoop.
My calculation, it's actually-- it is like a willow.
Is it that willow tree?
SARAH URIST GREEN: Yeah.
DOUGLAS PAULSON: It's a nice little bridge.
We think someone's in the house, like we were just saying.
And they are not opening the door for some reason.
Maybe because it's two strangers out in front of their house with a camera.
It's 3:15, we're meeting in 15 minutes.
I think he's walking.
I think he's walking, and he's cold.
Because it's really windy today.
And it's what, 44 degrees at the moment.
OK, it's 3:16.
No sign of Chris Robbins.
They're leaving.
Oops, this is my exit.
Ha ha.
Let's see which way it's going to tell me to go.
OK, let's give it one more minute.
SARAH URIST GREEN: OK. And then, I should have just gunned it.
Almost there, one minute away or so.
SARAH URIST GREEN: So it's 3:30.
I know, it's kind of lonesome up here.
CHRISTOPHER ROBBINS: I am trying.
Shit.
All right, that's it.
That's the place.
And no one's home.
Chris, you're a little late.
CHRISTOPHER ROBBINS: I've got a ladder, and I've got some construction helmets, so we look more legit, if you're up for it.
I am legit.
I'm at the halfway point.
You are?
This is it?
This is it.
I thought we drew on it that it's the roof.
You want a hand?
Yeah.
Well, actually no.
I'm afraid I'll pull you down.
You won't pull me down.
You don't think so?
Hey Chris.
Hey, Doug, how have you been?
Nice to meet in the middle.
Good to see you.
You too.
I didn't think you were going to make it.
Yeah?
Yeah, I didn't think-- It was a perilous ride.
And it's-- [beer lid popping] Cheers.
God, I love fancy beer.
I'm Ernie.
And I'm Bert.
And this is "Art Assignment" On PBS Digital.
[laughter]