Hello High Line!

Ever since I first heard about concrete plans to completely redesign the High Line in 2004, I was dubious about how it would help rejuvenate the Chelsea/Meatpacking area. It had already suffered a vigorous onslaught of designer boutiques and a growing number of decaying buildings, but it was still a cultural and aesthetically-absent wasteland, save the bright spot of the Chelsea galleries. I was even more excited about the Whitney Museum's plans to construct a satellite location at the High Line after scrapping plans to expand the original Marcel Breuer building on Madison several times. Renzo Piano's building is still in preliminary stages, but the recent opening of the High Line is certainly a promising start to the reinvention of the area.


A Lemonade Water Tower...words fail me.
I was really excited about this!

Target was sponsoring a Street Festival yesterday and gave away free watermelon and lemonade from...a NYC water tower! I happen to love these wooden structures that punctuate the skyline and, to me, make NYC somehow better. Complete with jazzy music, balloon sculptures, and special events, the real jewel was first stepping onto the platform and entering another world.



The flooring is comprised of long, concrete segments that playfully allude to its previous history as a railroad, but still appear modern and polished. In the plant beds, actual railroad tracks (that I assume were retained from the site) were appropriated into decorative elements. However, there are no defining points where the concrete meets the plant beds. Rather, these long concrete "rails" gradually sink into the earth, seamlessly transitioning from urban to nature. The organic lines of the rails continue throughout the pathway, trapping water and allowing it to feed the earth beneath. The plants themselves, supplanted by cheeky signs: "Keep it Wild; Keep it on the Path", are reminiscent of weeds that often grow through and around our concrete jungle, peeking through the weight of modern life and offering us signs of rebirth. The water fountains are also a delight, with an angled "sink" that allows unused water to be caught in a basin below and to be reused for planting. I watched as others noticed this, and their subsequent expressions of awe made the experience even better. For the more observant, several of the wooden lounges that dot the site rest on railroad tracks, complete with wheels, allowing the sitter to shift the chair. It is these playful details that encourage discovery and exploration that I found beautiful.


Spencer Finch's The River That Flows Both Ways

I had always taken a great interest in the incorporation of art into public spaces. They seem to make us stop and question our role in the art work, in life and our relation to the spaces around us - and the High Line does exactly that. A collaboration between Creative Time and the NYC Department of Parks and Recreation, American artist Spencer Finch's The River That Flows Both Ways transforms the former loading dock between 15th and 16th Streets into a beautiful backdrop of 700 colored panes of glass. Finch photographed the Hudson River once every minute for 700 minutes over the course of one day. Every color of each pane represents a single pixel from each of the 700 photographs. The work, in a glance, summarizes the changing conditions of the water as it plays to the whim of sun, wind and human interference. The whimsical nature of the work takes a complex turn when further enhanced by the viewer's angle, the specific time of day, and differing environmental conditions. Essentially, each individual's experience of the piece will vary, and will change for a person through multiple viewings. With the Hudson River just beyond the work, we are reminded that nature is ephemeral, but ultimately paramount.


Overlooking the polished High Line, a building in disrepair

Overall, I felt that the response to the issues of recreating the High Line, particularly in how they stayed true to the site's history and preserved some elements of the original site while looking to the future, were successful. While walking along the pathway, one can see remnants of dilapidated buildings: broken windows, worn walls and faded signs. I am assuming that these structures will be inevitably demolished, but I found that the inclusion of the buildings enhanced the experience. The contrast of old and new, worn and polished and the past and present were nostalgic without being kitschy. However, the mighty hand of gentrification may also change the area until it is unrecognizable. As welcome as this new addition to our lovely city is, it will be unfortunate that the High Line will usher in a new rash of development, wherein luxury apartments will undoubtedly - and sadly - replace the last vestiges of old New York.