Walking in the City Photo Essay

Few experiences can compare to the pleasure of walking around and unearthing the numerous wonders of New York City; everywhere you turn there are countless hidden treasures that one can stumble upon. Among these many sites there are those which are created intentionally for entertainment and allow for pleasure as a direct result of their design and those that are designed for some other purpose but have the ability to be viewed with beauty despite this fact. The Stern Auditorium and Perelman Stage of Carnegie Hall is a clear example of the former whereas the High Line Park would be an area that would be classified as the latter type; despite this, I personally derived an equal amount of satisfaction from strolling through the remodeled, formerly dilapidated park as from appreciating the structural elegance and relative simplicity of this section of one of the most famous performance halls in the world due to their abilities to allow me to partake in the act of flânerie within their urban structures.

My experience with the High Line Park began much before I arrived; knowing it to be a freight line which was repurposed to function as a park, my expectations naturally were very low and I envisioned a set of tracks with a few flowers dispersed randomly in an attempt to cover up the obvious fact that it was not initially intended to function as a tourist attraction. However, much to my surprise and delight, not only was the park surrounded by beautiful foliage and innovatively constructed walkways and benches but there was also no hint of the past purpose that the park once served.

Additionally, the High Line Park blends seamlessly into the environment in which it is located while still serving as a clear refuge from the hustle and bustle of city life; in essence, it seems that it belongs because it looks as if it must belong as an area that can be used as a form of escapism from the many daunting structures that immediately surround it, resulting in large groups flocking to it.

The cultural identity of the site is epitomized by the way in which its design adheres to the situation from which it was borne. The construct of the benches and the wooden bleachers exude sleekness while retaining their functionality.

Moreover, its location amongst these gargantuan city buildings and vibrant, hectic streets allow for an urban appeal, despite the fact that the park itself was built in a more rustic nature. Finally, the era and manner in which it was created hugely influenced its design. Its creation occurring during the urban construction boom following the destruction of the World Trade Center—alongside the facts that the similar Promenade Plantée had just been created in Paris from an abandoned rail line and that there had recently been a powerful petition to prevent the rail line from which this park had originated from getting demolished—allowed the architects of the High Line not only significant means but also freedom in their construction; this resulted in interesting  decisions in design like creating a tunnel surrounded by foliage alongside wide open spaces of grass and seating.

Carnegie Hall—as opposed to the High Line—had a significantly more privileged and refined history, resulting in a much more majestic appearance. During my trip to this iconic music venue (again contrary to the High Line Park) my expectations were elevated to an almost unreachable point; this is the epitome of musical significance, the site at which all of the most significant musicians of the past century had at one time performed.

However, my actual trip there left me feeling somewhat underwhelmed by the building itself; while its stage is imposing and it possesses some of the most intricate golden molding and among the most well-conceived lighting fixtures I have ever encountered, traveling through the hall alone still fails to evoke the same level of emotional appeal provided by the natural beauty of the High Line Park.

The music hall was created for the specific purpose of providing an atmosphere conducive to successful musical performances and functions effectively in that role through its expertly crafted acoustic design. However, the true enjoyment that one may achieve from the spectacle of the construct itself comes from one’s ability to witness the crowds that flock to this venue; by observing there members of the societal elite in their natural habitat, one can gain an immense amount of satisfaction.

While these two urban locales may seem completely disjointed and inseparable, when the idea of Flânerie is considered in the context of our course readings it is apparent that there is a common thread that links the two based on one’s ability to derive pleasure from the community to which they are connected. Tester—in his portrayal of a flâneur, one who partakes in flânerie—says that “for him, the private world of domestic life is…a cause [of] feelings of crisis” and he is “only home existentially when he is not home physically” (2). Though this sets the foundation for the actions of the flâneur, his essence lies in his desire to go “about the city in order to find the things which will occupy his gaze and thus complete his otherwise incomplete identity” (7). The primary way in which Tester suggests that he may begin to counteract this emptiness is by attempting to become lost in the urban atmosphere of the crowd; this idea is that which I believe truly provides the recreational and societal significance of both of these locations. Both provide areas that are saturated with people and architectural beauty and therefore allow for one to feel this sense of wonder at both the peopling and physical constructs that comprise them; by walking through these areas we can gain the societal benefit of them through practical recreational experiences.

This integral aspect of these attractions is further supported by the representation of Quinn’s desire to lose himself in New York City in City of Glass by Paul Auster; “by giving himself up to the movement of the streets…he was able to escape the obligation to think, and this, more than anything else, brought him a measure of peace” (8). These historic locations allow us the ability to throw off the yoke of required thought and rather aim towards relaxation in the beauty of these areas.

While one may believe that the iconic Carnegie Hall and the newly—and not so prestigiously—founded High Line Park are total opposites in every sense, the people and beauty which comprise them (though different in both counts) are the primary linking factor among the two. This is due to the fact that they both provide an atmosphere which allows one to partake in flânerie with the attempt of finding meaning in these sites’ active and wondrous natures;

though borne of different circumstances, this theme connects all urban environments based on a form of recreational pleasure which may be derived from them, suggesting a significant societal purpose that they each exhibit. Though it is easy to dismiss claims of similarity between these two locales, it is clear that through walking in and around them they are not quite as different as they may seem.