Anyone who was in Berlin in the summer of 1995 will probably remember it for the rest of their lives: how the Reichstag — the seat of the German parliament — disappeared. Not blown up, not demolished, but completely wrapped in silver fabric and tied up with thick ropes, almost like a gift.

A crazy idea? Perhaps. But also one that made history.

Behind this spectacular action was a pair of artists who have repeatedly surprised the world with their ephemeral mega works of art: Christo and Jeanne-Claude. Their vision of a wrapped Reichstag was big, bold — and took 23 years to plan.

2025: A special anniversary year

2025 is a real anniversary year for fans of Christo and Jeanne-Claude. 

Not only is Berlin marking the 30th anniversary of the "Wrapped Reichstag" with a light installation projected onto the west façade of the Reichstag building from June 9 to 22, but other cities around the world are also paying tribute to the couple's works: Paris commemorates the wrapping of its Pont Neuf that happened 40 years ago, while New York marked the 20th anniversary of "The Gates," an installation in Central Park featuring thousands of gates on which fabric panels fluttered.

And above all, both artists would have turned 90 this year: They were born on the same day, on June 13, 1935. 

Christo was born in Bulgaria and later fled from the communist East to Western Europe, first to Prague, then to Vienna, Geneva and finally Paris. There he met Jeanne-Claude in 1958 — she was French with roots in Morocco. The two became an unbeatable team.

Christo was the artist, Jeanne-Claude the organizer — whereby both saw themselves as equal partners and later officially signed all projects together.

Their specialty was huge, spectacular art installations in public spaces. They wrapped bridges, buildings or entire coastal strips, stretched gigantic curtains through valleys or erected kilometer-long fabric installations. None of it permanent, all self-financed, without advertisers or sponsors; the money for the projects was only generated through the sale of drawings, collages and designs.

'Wrapped Reichstag': A long wait for approval

The idea of wrapping the Reichstag in Berlin was born back in 1971 — in the middle of the Cold War.

At the time, the Reichstag stood right next to the Berlin Wall. It was a symbolic building, but was not actually used. The seat of government of the then Federal Republic of Germany was still in Bonn, and the Bundestag (the German parliament) only moved into the Reichstag building with its characteristic glass dome, remodeled by architect Norman Foster, in 1999.

Christo and Jeanne-Claude were nevertheless fascinated by the building's symbolism and historical role. Time and again, this place has been the scene of significant moments in Germany's history, during the German Empire, the Weimar Republic, the Nazis' "Third Reich" and the Second World War, the division of Germany after the war and its eventual reunification. 

Christo and Jeanne-Claude wanted to make this building visible again by concealing it for a brief period.

But a work of art like this required permission — and that took a long time coming. It was not until 1994, after more than 20 years of discussion, that the Bundestag finally gave its approval, following vigorous debate. And this paved the way to one of the most impressive art projects of the century.

Summer 1995: A silver dream in the middle of Berlin

Finally, in June 1995, the Reichstag was completely wrapped in over 100,000 square meters of silver fabric and 16 kilometers of rope. The wrapping lasted several days and was followed around the world.

The wrapped Reichstag appeared soft, shimmering, mysterious, like a work of art amid clouds. From June 24 to July 7, 1995, over 5 million people came to Berlin to witness this spectacle with their own eyes. It was like a huge public festival: People were lying on the grass, having picnics, taking photos and discussing it.

Many people who experienced the work later said that they had never viewed the Reichstag as intensely as during these two weeks.

Why wrap it at all?

Christo and Jeanne-Claude didn't set out to hide a building — quite the opposite. They wanted to give it a new experience. The wrapping removed everything superficial. You could no longer see the details, only the shape, the silhouette, the volume.

And most importantly, this work of art was also ephemeral. After two weeks, the magic was over, the fabric was dismantled, and no trace remained. Only memories. For the artist couple, this ephemerality was a central part of their work.

"The beauty lies in transience," they often said. You should enjoy the moment because you know it will soon be over.

Although the Reichstag is a political symbol, the artwork itself was not intended to be political. Christo and Jeanne-Claude did not want to dictate an opinion. They wanted their art to be an open space for thoughts, feelings and interpretations.

Nevertheless, many people saw the wrapping as a strong political symbol: for change, for reconciliation, for a new beginning. This had a special effect, especially in reunified Germany.

Jeanne-Claude died in 2009,Christo in 2020, but their art lives on — in photos, memories, exhibitions and now also in a special anniversary year.

The wrapping of the Reichstag was not only a masterpiece of logistics and aesthetics, it was also a moment of collective fascination. It showed what art can achieve in public spaces. It can surprise, connect, challenge. And it can simply amaze people.

Or, as Christo once said: "Our works belong to no one — and at the same time to everyone."

This article was originally written in German.