The Black Von Scrolls

After reading Rachel Wetzler’s distaste for the High Line, I spent last night chewing on it. An excellent moment when someone goes directly against the grain, however, I disagree. Am all for green space. The High Line was slated for demolition and the alternative would have been a huge loss for the city. Giuliani threatened to wipe it away and in its early days, “Friends of the High Line” petitioned to delay demo and it worked. 

From a historical perspective, saving the High Line was crucial. It served as a marker from the days of manufacturing in the city. For instance, the Nabisco Box Factory in Beacon (now an art museum, Dia: Beacon) produced boxes which were transported by boat down the Hudson. They were transfered to elevated rail and dropped off via the High Line to companies here in the city as part of the manufacturing chain. This is why Dia initially wanted a piece of the High Line pie, the two areas connect historically, and for Dia, connect art communities.

Working with Minetta Brook arts org ten years ago, I observed the first art competitions for a High Line park. When the US still had global sympathy after 9/11, the city of Paris wanted to make a gift to NYC as a symbol of solidarity. These art and architecture competitions (hosted by the FHL and Minetta Brook) served as funding ideas to the mayor of Paris. Paris had already transformed an elevated Roman aqueduct into a park called the Promenade Plantée, the only one in the world at that point, so it was concept which linked the two together. 

Art photographer, Joel Sternfeld, produced photos of a beautiful and abandoned High Line to record a natural habitat which had grown wild. A smaller group of local residents campaigned to keep the High Line as-is, but no one was permitted to walk on it (was in bad disrepair and too dangerous for the public). Space is precious in Manhattan; to get the support of the new mayor, Bloomberg, it had to be turned into something purposeful. 

This is what seems unfortunate; to build a park in New York these days, office space, hotels, condos and shops must be attached. As wholesale meat companies disappeared from the Meat Packing District, developers with their starchitects began to fashionize the neighborhood. Friends of the High Line were savvy to connect fashion companies, art galleries, condo developers and hotels to their cause. If the High Line was to become shared green space for the neighborhood, it could essentially connect all these elements together, creating more cha-ching for everyone. New and refurbished parks have become ways to make money, instead of simply giving people green space.

Friends of the High Line had friends in the right places. They put together a powerful group and raised the cash for the park. To meet their needs and to seduce the city, starchitects would obviously win any competition (to no one’s surprise, Diller Scofidio + Renfro and Field Operations took the prize). Respecting some of the wishes of local residents, they chose to keep the flora native and wild, while retaining much of its original architecture. D-Crit describes it best here.

The High Line was saved… New York style. Perhaps Chelsea galleries, not the High Line, caused most of the gentrification in the Meat Packing. They left Soho for cheaper rent and more space. Developers followed them and popped up their condos and hotels. Where art+money goes, the grit soon vanishes, as we are now witnessing on the Bowery. 

With every aspect it was up against, Friends of the High Line did an efficient job in saving the structure and creating shared space. In New York City politics, this is no small accomplishment. The neighborhood had already morphed into a gentrified scene (hello Soho House) and it’s gritty-style urbanism was quickly disappearing, with or without an elevated park.