Field Notes: The Highline
I visited the Highline at around two o’clock in the afternoon. It was relatively bright outside and the sky was clear. The weather however wasn’t as forgiving. It was freezing cold. The type of cold that forces your hands into your pockets even with gloves on in fear that your fingers won’t fall off. We got to there by the trains relatively easily. There seemed to be a good access to transportation in the area.
The neighborhood surrounding the area seemed relatively commercial. There were businesses scattered around but the business of the city was only truly seen once I was on the actual Highline. Standing up there, some feet from where we originally entered, off into the distance the busy workings of the city could be seen complete with crowds of people crossing and an onset of yellow taxi cabs. But one words that sticks out when I think of the Highline and especially the area surrounding the Highline is buildings. There were buildings galore, and they gave the area an almost urban residential vibe. Most of the buildings were a deep burnt red color.
There were two ways to get onto the Highline: stairs and an elevator. We took the stairs. And as soon as we made it up there, we saw benches. They were scattered all throughout the area. The benches made it very convenient to just stop and take a break. For me especially they were very useful in being able to catch up on my thoughts. Aside from the benches, there were many trees. I could imagine their leaves being a vibrant green in the summer time, but that day in February the tress were not adorned with any leaves. There were also little bushels of what I assumed to be dead bushed lining the perimeter. Railings enclosed the entire area where you could look out and see a parking lot underneath you, signs above you, a grey ground below you. As you kept walking towards 30th you could see construction being done. There were safety nets along the ledges and scaffolding towering above. One “decoration” piece that sticks out is a door that was leaning against a wall. It seems like it had a window and a mirror. The purpose of the door went unknown by me.
In the beginning the sounds of the city were very prevalent. You could hear the sounds of the cars whooshing by and beeping od horns. But as I moved along all I could hear were the sounds of the construction work: the hammer smashing against the wood and the drilling of the nails into the surface. It was relatively noisy. I think the noises probably change throughout the course of the day. It is probably significantly quieter during the later hours.
It was very hard to detect a sound because it was just that cold. It just smelled like cold, as weird as it is to describe it that way.
I would say aside from the cold the Highline was a pretty comfortable environment. There was an abundance of seating and so much to look at and appreciate. The day that I went, the people that I observed felt like tourists. Many of them were carrying backpacks, briefcases, and shopping bags. It seemed like they were in a hurry so I concluded that the majority of the people there that day were New Yorkers who were using the structure to get from point A to point B. Thought we did stop to talk to a man who explained that he was there to show his brother around who was visiting. And also when we stopped to point at a station set up a woman who was there explained that she was visiting from South America. So people’s speed of walking may have just had something to do with the cold.
We were able to participate in some kind of participant observation. We sat down on this little mat. A man had set up the area for people to paint. A few feet over he had created a exhibit of all of the little blocks of cardboard that people had previously painted. As I sat down to paint I saw how he had all of the supplies laid out. I found that as we were doing the activity it was really easy to interact with the people there. Conversation between me and the guy running the station flowed easily. I found out that the guy was at the Highline a few times a week and that he had started to set a rate for his donations because in the past he had not made enough. There was also another woman there painting who said she was visiting from South America.
