Early Spring

The callery pear trees are on the verge of blooming. Once they open, the city will be in a brief intense flurry of white flowers and spring will have officially arrived. It does not seem that we will even have the fluke spring snow.

The forsythia are also close, though I feel that they do not have the usual enthusiasm.

This little tree, probably an apple, has already come out. The trees and plants all seem to be out of sync. Some are all flowery and others are holding back.

I have been working with dream images again and the image I was seeking was at the High Line. I haven't posted the dream picture here, because it is part of a bigger image.

I find the High Line to be a bit precious, but I do like the plant life.
 

This seems like the perfect urban spring image.

Moping on the High Line

A new section of the High Line park opened over the summer. I was uptown on the west side this morning so I thought I would check it out. The weather was weird, pouring rain while I was uptown. I nearly gave the High Line a pass, but I jumped off the subway at 34th just as the doors closed and the rain had stopped. Someone painted wings near the entrance to the park.

The new section starts at 30th St. near the West Side Highway. Although large signs promise new development, the area is still fairly desolate.

The park itself is pretty, but a little bland. I felt as if I were in an outdoor exhibit at one of the better zoos,

with graffiti no longer seen in the wild. Actually, I think I last saw the flying cat in Paris, which may be why it made me feel so sad. Or it might have been the luxury residence being built next to the cat. They are sprouting up like mushrooms all around the park, their windows inches from the fence. It should be amusing when people move in.


Then the battery ran out on my camera. The spare was flat too.

I had just enough juice to photograph this really fine sculpture by Sarah Sze.

It seems clear that everyone involved in the park is very sincere, planting the good plants, exhibiting the good artists. But every time I come here, I feel a little sad.

Back at the High Line

I have been restless, unable to settle down and get any work done. Maybe it is the changing weather. I went back to the High Line to see if things looked different in the autumn light. My problem with this park is that everything is so neat and orderly. There is not much for me to say except that the wildflowers still make everything smell nice. That is saying a lot for New York. There is this one spot where a building under renovation makes a covered walkway. It is a little wider and emptier than the rest of the park. My favorite kind of light was in the shadows and the greenery seemed more poetic here.

One thing that has changed is the wood. It has bleached out in the sun.


There was some controversy regarding the wood used for the High Line. According to the Gothamist people were protesting that the wood came from ancient forests in the Amazon and was not sustainable as the Friends of the High Line had promised. Apparently the group certifying the wood is not so reliable and was even implicated in a "timber-laundering" ring. Considering all the drama, perhaps they should have used that nice post-consumer plastic for the benches, especially seeing the weathering this wood is showing.

This bench looks as if it might give splinters, and that is not its only problem.

The view from the bench is of four-story high Posh and Becks peering over the railing wearing nothing but their skivvies.


I sat there, did not get splinters and contemplated Posh's hair. Becks seems to be missing his pupils which gets creepy after a while. I moved on...

The High Line

The Highline, an elevated railway that has been turned into a park, opened a few weeks ago to much fanfare. The park itself is quite beautiful, lined with wildflowers which sweeten the air. The traffic sounds fade, the sky opens up. I didn't take many pictures of the park itself since it is very well documented. The Gothamist has such fine pictures that I had nothing to add. However the view from the park was something else.

There was space. The buildings were not shadowing so much. The views were similar to driving down the West Side Highway, but without the cars.

Frank Gehry's IAC building made me grieve for what the Nets stadium might have been.

Looking down on the street, there almost seems to be a visible force around the truck level, a sort of dusty darkness. Higher up the cloudy bright light is dissolving the buildings.

I did photograph this part of the high line; the window over Tenth Avenue.

The street is a stage, the amphitheater is another stage. I really love this place.

Up here things are not so neat and tidy. There are more signs of the chaotic New York that I loved to photograph, with streaks of rust and green copper leaching from pipes.

Lady Liberty is in the lower left corner in honor of Independence Day.

I became wistful around the traces of graffiti and broken glass. I know people feel safer in a bright clean city. I just really miss the rubble.


I also miss the occasional transformation like how this unfinished wall becomes a weathered ziggurat.

And the razor wire.

I love razor wire, the way the light glints off its points, how it catches shreds of translucent plastic. But it is one of those things (like religious symbols and the swastika) that cannot be separated from symbolic meaning. So a cross will always imply Jesus and razor wire will always bring up violence, crime, war. The light can do nothing to distract.

Still, I thought it looked so pretty up on the High Line. Maybe I will go back when it is cold and windy with the late afternoon sun quickly sinking and see what things look like. Maybe I will bring color film instead of digital.