Something that may not be obvious to non-NYers about Occupy Wall Street: lower Manhattan is a small area. The center of the protests is “Zuccotti Park” – otherwise known as the plaza that U.S. Steel had to build to satisfy zoning when it constructed the building now known as One Liberty Plaza (165 Broadway, actually a very short block away from Liberty Street) – which is diagonally across Broadway and a couple of blocks north of Wall Street. The plaza is, in recent years, most famous for being across Church Street from the southeast corner of the WTC site.
Incidentally, my office is one very short block south of the plaza, facing Wall Street in one direction and Church Street in the other.
This may all seem meaningless, and perhaps it is, but the fact is the protestors have spent very little time on Wall Street (because of the police presence) and quite a bit more on the less-bankster-populated west side of Broadway. But everything in the Wall Street area is within a five minute walk – the WTC, the bull statue north of Bowling Green, the yuppie scum bars over by the South Street Seaport, City Hall, a half-dozen buildings that briefly were the tallest in the country a century ago, and a sprinkling of AEC offices for seasoning.
Written about advertising, but applicable to any design profession and probably quite a few others (click to engorge):
From Copyranter, from Adverve, from Jeff Escalante.
Last week was POOP week, this is rat week:
I swear this is a cut scene from Half-Life 2.
The picture is from an examination of post-apocalyptic NYC in movies. I think they’ve got it wrong. Why would the rats be riding the barrel when the food is in the water?
The station shown, BTW, is Broadway-Nassau on the A/C, which lies underneath the Fulton Street stations on the 2/3/4/5/J. The Z has gone the way of all riderless trains and the M has been rerouted.
New York is basically an archipelago. Two major islands, a piece of a third major island, a chunk of mainland, dozens of small islands, and countless rocks. There are fewer rocks than their used to be, as many were removed in the 1800s as hazards to navigation.
Until recently, my island-empire fantasies centered on South Brother Island, but realistically it’s now a wildlife sanctuary and is going to stay one. I’ve got a new object of desire: Rat Island.
What’s not to like? Barely above high tide, no water or sewers or electric. The names needs work…maybe “Radioactive Rat Island”?
New York is full of odds and ends of long-gone transportation. Near where I grew up, there was a branch of the Long Island Railroad that was abandoned in the 1930s, for example. There are stub ends of subways and elevateds where extensions were never built, trolley barns with no tracks, railroad stations on lines that now only carry freight, and so on. The High Line, recently a park, was an elevated freight railroad built in the 1930s to replace a street-level freight line built in the 1840s.
Every once in a while, someone gets the idea to use one of these things for something. Lately, there’s a plan to take a trolley yard where cars parked and turned around after crossing the Williamsburg Bridge from Brooklyn and make it into a sunken park…something like the High Line upside down.
As it once was:
This post from Gothamist is interesting not so much for its topic as what it misses. Yes, there are a handful of survivors scattered around Manhattan. What they missed: the exact same buildings are present in both pictures (1920s on the left, current-day on the right). There’s been some minor facade alterations (the loft building to the right of the farmhouse appears to have gained olde-timey shutters, for example) but the same four buildings (loft, industrial carriage house, farmhouse, loft) are there.
I’m insanely busy at work, with both design and management. Today I’m going to give a three-hour history lecture.
When I’m not dealing with complete assholes, I enjoy all of these activities. Which is to say, I enjoy most of my work mist of the time. But the clash of mental gears as I switch back and forth sometimes literally gives me a headache. I have to remember that a student asking why something wasn’t done a certain way in 1870 isn’t a construction manager trying to screw up my design with ill-considered ‘value engineering’.