In Kevin Loughran’s Parks for Profit, an interesting argument is made as to why the High Line is more catered towards the privileged rather than being an open space fit for everyone. Aspects of the High Line, ranging from the food vendors to the recycling collection, play an influential role in the type of people that would be interested in coming to visit the park. Loughran suggests that by the Friends of the High Line having strict rules on garbage/recycling collection, they could be trying to prevent bottle collectors. These bottle collectors, who are usually associated with people of a lower income status, are seen as “quality of life violations” that would potentially degrade the High Line’s appeal (Loughran 2014). The Friends of the High Line also control the type of food that would be sold there, preferring more artisanal and fancier food options, by making the application process difficult. In the report, a food vendor by the name of Ricky describes the process by saying, “It took about two months. [The Friends of the High Line] wanted to meet all our employees and taste all our food. It cost a thousand bucks to apply, too – non-refundable” (Loughran 2014). Restrictions such as this would make it hard for poorer food vendors that sell cheaper foods, like hot dogs, to work on the High Line. This, in return, also influences the type of visitors that would be attracted to the High Line.
While reading the report, I couldn’t help but to compare my observations and experiences at the High Line to that of Loughran’s. I too noticed the expensive food options and the majority tourist population. I remember thinking how expensive the tacos being sold there were when considering how small they were in size. I can see why aspects like this would make people feel out of place and create an unwelcoming vibe for those that are not super wealthy. It makes sense then for those that are hungry and not willing to pay for the high priced tacos to leave and look for more affordable food options. I also found it interesting how Loughran described the spatial practices of the High Line. He states, “The High Line’s narrow, linear space – coupled with relatively few places to play, sit, or linger … structures the most typical movement within the park: a bucolic walk from one end to the other” (Loughran 2014). I would have to agree with this interpretation. From my own personal experience at the High Line, I found it hard to do anything but walk. If I wanted to stop to look at something, there would be a crowd of people behind me yelling at me to stop blocking the way and move along. Besides sitting down at the various designated spots, walking across the High Line seems like one of the only activities available. The High Line feels more like walking through a museum than walking through a park. The regulations and associated limitations make the High Line feel less free, unlike the atmosphere of most other parks and public spaces.
Reading the NYC Parks article entitled “Community Parks Initiative Targeted Improvements” helped to show how different types of parks were designed to serve different populations of New York City residents. For example, the parks and playgrounds that were remodeled in underserved neighborhoods under the Community Parks Initiative placed more of a focus on the youth of those neighborhoods. By improving playgrounds and basketball fields this will attract more youth to come out and benefit from those facilities. The High Line, in contrast, doesn’t allow for many activities such as throwing objects, skateboarding, bicycling, and walking dogs (Friends of the High Line 2017). This may prevent youth from such neighborhoods, along with other individuals, from coming to the High Line because it doesn’t offer any of the activities they may be interested in. The High Line, with all its subtle restrictions, prefers richer visitors who don’t mind the overpriced food and the lack of possible activities. Parks that want to make a profit will want to attract individuals that could do that for them.
Works Cited:
Longhran K (2014) Parks for Profit: The High Line, Growth Machines, and the Uneven Development of Urban Public Spaces
NYC Parks (2017) Community Parts Initiative Targeted Improvements: NYC Parks Completes Improvements in 60 Parks and Playgrounds in Underserved Neighborhoods
https://www.nycgovparks.org/about/framework-for-an-equitable-future/community-parks-initiative/caring (last accessed 15 April 2017)
The Friends of the High Line (2017) Park Access & Info http://www.thehighline.org/visit/#/access (last accessed 15 April 2017)
Hi Ena,
I really like your post and the way you connected the reading to your own experience at the High Line. I specifically like that you focused on Loughran’s “argument…as to why the High Line is more catered towards the privileged rather than being an open space fit for everyone.” I would like to say that I totally agree with you and with Loughran in saying that the High Line, although being a public space, isn’t really that public when so many regulations and restrictions are put in place. I also agree with you in that the Highline caters to a certain group of people, enabling what Loughran refers in his work as “spatial privilege.” Yet, what I find to be particularly interesting is Loughran’s point that the High Line is a huge profit generator. As the author states the idea of the park was sold on the basis that it would generate revenue for the city, and on Bloomberg’s belief that it would be great for “all New Yorkers.” Yet, although the park has far exceeded the profit it estimated to produce, it cannot be said to have benefitted all New Yorkers, for the park primarily serves the interests of the privileged (as you observed in your visit). Moreover, as mentioned in the reading the High Line has also become a magnet for developers and “starchitecs” who design buildings that are far too expensive. All the economic benefits that the High Line has brought (and which only benefit some people) allow for the High Line to be seen as “a spatial vehicle for gentrification and capital accumulation” (Loughran 2014, p. 63).
Lastly, I would also like to say that I can relate my experience on the High Line to yours. When I visited the High Line, I too felt like I couldn’t stop but should rather keep walking (specially in very narrow places where there was little room to walk around in). After reading Loughran’s work and your post I realize that the High Line might have been designed to do just that. As Loughran writes, the High Line’s design of “a narrow, linear space—coupled with relatively few places to play, sit, or linger, especially for larger groups of people—structures the most typical movement within the park: a bucolic walk from one end to the other” (Loughran 2014, p. 61). This design ultimately generates the feeling of being rushed or as best put in Loughran’s words the High Line is “Like a conveyer belt, the rhythm of foot traffic forces everyone to keep pace” (Loughran 2014, p. 58).
Hi Ena,
I really like your post and the way you connected the reading to your own experience at the High Line. I specifically like that you focused on Loughran’s “argument…as to why the High Line is more catered towards the privileged rather than being an open space fit for everyone.” I would like to say that I totally agree with you and with Loughran in saying that the High Line, although being a public space, isn’t really that public when so many regulations and restrictions are put in place. I also agree with you in that the Highline caters to a certain group of people, enabling what Loughran refers in his work as “spatial privilege.” Yet, what I find to be particularly interesting is Loughran’s point that the High Line is a huge profit generator. As the author states the idea of the park was sold on the basis that it would generate revenue for the city, and on Bloomberg’s belief that it would be great for “all New Yorkers.” Yet although the park has far exceeded the profit it estimated to produce, it cannot be said to have benefitted all New Yorkers, for the park primarily serves the interests of the privileged (as you observed in your visit). Moreover, as mentioned in the reading the High Line has also become a magnet for developers and “starchitecs” who design buildings that are far too expensive. All the economic benefits that the High Line has brought (and which only benefit some people) allow for the High Line to be seen as “a spatial vehicle for gentrification and capital accumulation” (Loughran 2014, p. 63).
Lastly, I would also like to say that I can relate my experience on the High Line to yours. When I visited the High Line, I too felt like I couldn’t stop but should rather keep walking (specially in very narrow places where there was little room to walk around in). After reading Loughran’s work and your post I realize that the High Line might have been designed to do just that. As Loughran writes, the High Line’s design of “a narrow, linear space—coupled with relatively few places to play, sit, or linger, especially for larger groups of people—structures the most typical movement within the park: a bucolic walk from one end to the other” (Loughran 2014, p. 61). This design ultimately generates the feeling of being rushed or as best put in Loughran’s words the High Line is “Like a conveyer belt, the rhythm of foot traffic forces everyone to keep pace” (Loughran 2014, p. 58).