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Jacob Javits Plaza: Reconsidering
Intentions |
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Written for Professor Setha Low's
Ethnography of Place and Space: Landscapes of Fear at
The Graduate Center, CUNY |
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May 24, 2007 |
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Jacob Javits Plaza is a public
space in Lower Manhattan currently occupied by a series of
bright-green, painted benches curling around six large mounds
covered with small bushes. It is an eye-catching design that
carries with it – unbeknownst to most visitors –
the erased history of the site, a long-demolished Richard
Serra sculpture called Tilted Arc. The success –
or lack thereof – of the current plaza design in turn
depends upon the minimalist sculpture that preceded it, as
the benches and mounds designed by landscape architect Martha
Schwartz are intentionally in total opposition to Serra’s
artwork.
This paper will attempt to determine the
success of Jacob Javits Plaza through the framework of this
historical relationship via a historical analysis, a three-part
mapping analysis of the space (seating population, movement,
and use), and using internet “discussions” about
perceptions of the space and the plaza design. These analyses
will follow a history of the Federal buildings that created
the plaza; the selection, installation, and removal of Serra’s
sculpture; the “in-between” period when temporary
planters and furniture occupied the space; and the selection,
installation, and reaction to Schwartz’s plaza redesign. |
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Fig. 1 – Plan of Federal Complex |
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History
The Jacob K. Javits Federal Office Building
and Court of International Trade (later Customs Court) sit
on a city block bounded by Broadway Avenue on the west, Lafayette
Street on the east, Worth Street on the north, and Duane Street
on the south. The complex was completed in 1969 from a design
by Alfred Easton Poor, Kahn & Jacobs, and Eggers &
Higgins. A western addition to the Javits Building, covering
its 41-story, west-facing blank wall, followed in 1977, with
the same players involved. The Javits Building “an ungainly
checkerboard of granite and glass” (White 72), parallels
Broadway, while the 8-story, glassy Customs Court sits in
the Southeast corner of the site, linked to the former via
a four-story bridge raised one story above the plaza level.
Occupying the northeast corner of the site across from Foley
Square is Jacob Javits Plaza (aka Federal Plaza, Fig. 1),
a product of the 1961 Zoning Amendment that provided bonuses
for plazas created via setting buildings back from the sidewalk.
From the beginning, critical reception for
the Federal buildings (Fig. 2) and their plaza was poor. Ada
Louise Huxtable, architecture critic for The New York
Times called the complex, at the time of its completion,
“one of the most monumentally mediocre Federal buildings
in history” (qtd. in Stern 163). Years later Paul Goldberger
lamented that “Both are designed with the subtlety of
an airport concourse…Foley Square…is hardly given
coherence by a pair of clashing boxes,” (qtd. in Stern
163) while Time Magazine called the complex “One
of the ugliest public spaces in America. Everything…begs
for prolonged shiatsu with a wrecking ball” (Hughes
78). Retroactively discussing the plaza’s pre-Serra
state, Goldberger – as Huxtable’s successor at
The New York Times – managed to sum up the
context the artist faced when he said in 1985: “in a
city of bad plazas in front of bad skyscrapers, this is one
of the worst. Federal Plaza is a dreary stretch of concrete,
punctuated by a poorly placed and poorly designed fountain;
it was no urban oasis by a long shot” (23). |
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Fig. 2 – View of Federal buildings from
the east |
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Into this context walked artist
Richard Serra in 1979, when the National Endowment for the
Arts (NEA) recommended him to the General Services Administration
(GSA) for a sculpture at Javits Plaza, as part of the GSA’s
Art-in-Architecture program that set aside 0.5% of a Federal
building’s budget for artwork. Six years earlier architect
Easton Poor – as part of his Art-in-Architecture proposal
– recommended an abstract sculpture in steel or bronze
in the plaza (Senie 22); this and the GSA’s established
practice of choosing large-scale, abstract sculptures for
federal plazas by this time made Serra’s approval a
relatively easy one. Regardless, the artist was required to
submit concept sketches, which he did in 1980 and which the
GSA shortly thereafter approved. This submittal and approval
is important because it shows that the Federal government
(the client) knew what to expect for the space, though no
view was re-leased to the public before its installation.
Also important is that the artist and the client made an agreement
that commission would be permanent (Serra 4).
On July 16, 1981 Tilted Arc was installed. Twelve
feet high and 120 feet long, the 2-inch thick plane of Cor-ten
(rusted) steel bisected the tapering plaza space in a gentle
east-west arc which, as the name indicates, leaned in slightly
at the top of the arc’s concave curve (Fig. 3). From
the moment the sculpture was being installed the cries of
protest began; Serra recalled the workers actually getting
heat as they were installing it (Senie 25). Within a month
of Tilted Arc’s installation, Judge Edward
D. Re, who worked in the Customs Court, wrote two letters
to the GSA requesting its removal. In the second letter, Re
argued that the “120-foot wall effectively destroys
not only the beauty and spaciousness of the plaza, but also
the utility of the plaza, which has been used for ceremonies”
(Weyergraf-Serra 26). Re’s comments were out of step
with the critics who decried the plaza in its first incarnation,
and he began a questionable argument (ceremonies) that lasted
throughout the fight to remove the piece. |
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Fig. 3 – Tilted Arc from the Javits
Building |
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In the years after Tilted
Arc’s installation and Judge Re’s letter-writing
campaign nothing notable happened around the piece, (besides
the occasional graffiti) as the initial outcry appeared to
wane for good. But in late 1984 Judge Re began another letter
campaign (Weyergraf-Serra 27), at a time when the GSA was
under different, more conservative leadership in William J.
Diamond, who stated that the sculpture “has made it
impossible for the Federal and public community to use the
plaza” (Senie 28). As the GSA’s Regional Administrator,
Diamond called for a public hearing concerning the relocation
of Tilted Arc to be held on March 6, 1985, a hearing
he chaired and for which he appointed the four panel members
(Senie 29, Fig. 4). This highly questionable arrangement did
not stand in the way of the hearing being held in that form
over three days, in order to hear 122 people speak against
and 58 people in favor of relocation. Even though the former
outweighed the latter by more than 2 to 1, the panel recommended
by a vote of 4 to 1 to relocate the piece (Senie 30). |
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Fig. 4 – Poster for March 6th hearing |
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But how does one relocate a
site-specific artwork, if at all? And what entails a site-specific
installation? This issue will return with discussion of Schwartz’s
plaza, but for Serra, site-specificity is not limited to the
physical and environmental nature of the location but also
addresses the social and political context in which the work
is made and situated. Serra addressed the physical context
by simultaneously blocking views to and from the Federal buildings
(Fig. 5) and extending the arc towards the old court buildings
across Foley Square (Fig. 6), though he maintained that the
line of the arc allowed the prevailing foot traffic across
the plaza (Serra 4). In this last point, he seems to be concerning
himself with the public’s needs, though his cutting
off of site lines is more confrontational, an overt commentary
on the Federal buildings and notions of safety in urban situations,
especially New York City. Politically, Serra is quoted as
saying it is the sculptor’s obligation to define their
art, “not to be defined by the power structure that
asks you…because their notion of beauty and my notion
of…sculpture are always, invariably, at opposite ends”
(qtd. in Senie 24). This statement, while reinforcing the
popular split between contemporary artists and the public,
situates Serra’s art in opposition to its physical and
political context, in this case an unimpeded open space with
a Federal client. Furthermore, due to Serra’s treatment
of the sculpture as site-specific, and the agreement with
the client that the piece would be permanent, the artist saw
its relocation as synonymous with its destruction (Serra 5). |
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Fig. 5 (top) – Tilted Arc, looking
north
Fig. 6 (bottom) – Tilted Arc, looking east |
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Although Serra attempted to
use the legal system (a lawsuit, appeals) to save Tilted
Arc, it was removed on March 15, 1989. Shortly after
its removal, the GSA filled the plaza with standard-issue
planters and benches and reactivated the long-dormant fountain
(Fig. 7). The plaza was rededicated on July 6 and used for
a summer concert series celebrating the GSA’s 40th anniversary,
though this ceremonial use of the space would be short-lived
(Senie 96). |
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Fig. 7 – Plaza shortly after removal of
Tilted Arc |
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In 1992, the GSA undertook the
structural and waterproofing repair of the parking garage that
sits under the plaza, deciding to redesign it given the considerable
demolition required. Even while Tilted Arc was in place
landscape architect Martha Schwartz was contacted by the GSA
about potentially reworking the space, though nothing came of
this relationship until 1993 when the GSA’s director of
arts and historical preservation Dale Lanzone announced the
plaza’s redesign (Senie 98). He said, “The plaza
will be treated very much as a work of art, but it will be a
usable space, the antithesis of Serra’s treatment”
(Vogel 23). While the artistic merit of Schwartz’s design
will be discussed later, suffice to say here that her solution
was definitely the antithesis of Serra’s Tilted Arc.
Removing all existing site elements, she covered the site with
a curling maze of bright-green benches (about 1,700 linear feet
of them) that snaked around six grass-covered mounds emitting
steam in the warm months (Fig. 8). Since the plaza’s completion
in 1997, the grass on the mounds has been replaced by hardier
boxwood shrubs, and the mounds no longer emit steam. Unlike
the plaza’s previous occupant, this one is people friendly,
particularly to Federal employees who can use the benches during
lunch, the primary design consideration (Schwartz). Also, unlike
Tilted Arc’s unexpected appearance, Schwartz’s
design was on display in the building lobby before its installation
(Senie 100), allowing feedback and time for people to get acclimated
to the design. Not surprisingly, there’s been little to
no controversy over the design, though at the same time there’s
been very little media or academic attention given to the design
that won a 1997 ASLA Professional Honor Award. |
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Fig. 8 – Redesign by Martha Schwartz |
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Historical Analysis
A short reiteration of the plaza’s history
might read like this: Bad architecture and adjoining empty
plaza becomes site of minimalist, confrontational sculpture
that’s removed after eight years and replaced the same
amount of time later by its antithesis, a playful maze of
benches and mounds (Fig. 9). It could be argued that what
ends this history, what is there today, was created by a chain
reaction of events that started with the original, late sixties
buildings. The substandard Modernist architecture and empty,
leftover open space were the context for Serra’s Tilted
Arc, a piece far from perfect but strong in its reaction
to and treatment of its context. Schwartz’s redesign
of the plaza is the Arc’s antithesis, so the plaza is
more accommodating to the public, but in turn it fails to
engage its context, as discussed in the mapping section below.
This isn’t to say that the only way to engage the context
was Serra’s, but by narrowly defining what Schwartz
could have done with the space – and choosing a landscape
architect who takes a Pop or postmodern approach to design
– the outcome was more limited that it would have been
otherwise. |
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Fig. 9 – Evolution of Javits Plaza |
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Field Observations
Observations and mapping of the space involved two site visits,
the first one from 10:00am to 11:30am on Friday, April 13
and the second one from 11:45am to 1:00pm on Monday, April
23; each used 15-minute intervals to map the site. The weather
on the first visit was cold, cloudy, and windy, so the population
of the plaza was noticeably low. The second visit found the
weather conditions close to ideal for using the plaza, with
temperatures in the 70s, a mild breeze, and a cloudless sky;
needless to say, the population was much higher. (Population
and movement maps are included in this
1mb PDF file.) What follows is description and analysis
broken down into movement, population, and use.
Movement Mapping
For the purposes of the study, movement maps are limited
to the areas of and adjacent to the plaza, meaning the sidewalk
spaces are not included but paths alongside the two Federal
buildings are. The majority of the movement observed was for
access in and out of the Javits Building’s entrance
located on the west side of the plaza. Access to the Customs
Court was minimal and is not included here, though one source
of movement was to and from the Javits Building and Customs
Court, pointing to potential restrictions in use of the pedestrian
bridge that links the two buildings. Additionally, movement
across the site also included people cutting through the plaza,
mainly from Lafayette to Worth. Given the rise in the sidewalk
from south to north, it appears many use the stairs to shorten
their climb, moving horizontally across the plaza either on
its main north-south path or along the eastern edge of the
benches.
Five distinct paths
(all to and from the Javits Building entrance) were predominant:
along the east edge of the building to Worth Street, along
the north edge of the Customs Court to Lafayette Street, directly
east of the entry to Lafayette Street, and along the north-south
spine of the plaza either continuing north to Worth Street
or moving on a diagonal through the gap in the benches to
the intersection of Lafayette and Worth Streets. Two of the
five paths do not deal with the plaza directly, those along
the face of the two Federal buildings. The remaining three
paths follow the wide paths that are roughly perpendicular
to the entries of both buildings. Comparing the “as-built”
plan (Fig. 10) to the architect’s conceptual plan (Fig.
11), it is apparent that these paths existed in the original
design but were widened to allow for wayfinding across the
site. The conceptual plan appears to be envisioned as a destination
and restricts movement across its surface. Further changes
to the plan include simplification of some of the bench curls,
elimination of two mounds, relocation of the remaining six,
and a gap added in the southwest corner adjacent to the handicap
ramp providing access to the raised podium of the Federal
buildings.1 |
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Fig. 10 (left) – "As-built" plaza
plan
Fig. 11 (right) - Conceptual plan |
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But
do these changes enable visitors (especially first-time ones)
to create a reasonable cognitive map of the plaza in his or
her head? Can visitors traverse the plaza, reaching their
destination without confusion? Based on observations, these
wide paths (Fig. 12) are helpful in wayfinding – “the
mental process of orientation in space” (Correa de Jesus
33) – though it depends upon the person’s starting
point and direction of travel. The most notable confusion
observed happened when people walked towards the Javits entry
from the street intersection on a diagonal line through the
gap between the benches in the northeast corner.2
On numerous occasions people continued their diagonal path
into the mound area (the dashed lines best seen in the 10:30-10:45
slot on Friday, April 13 - PDF
link), having to retrace their steps out of the closed
loop and around the benches to the wide path perpendicular
to the entrance. This observation, and the fact that most
people walked around the whole mound before realizing their
predicament, points to a secondary axis (in addition to the
two primary ones perpendicular to the building entries) created
via the gap between benches, apparently an axis not anticipated
by the architects or client. Ironically this illustrates a
limitation of movement not unlike Serra’s Tilted
Arc, which required one to walk around it in order to
traverse the plaza in the north-south direction. |
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Fig. 12– Primary north-south path |
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This
confusion created by the plaza’s plan illustrates the
non-site-specific nature of the design. A further indication
of this characteristic arises from the observation (documented
in the field notes, not the maps) of individuals jay-walking
on axis with the two main paths of the plaza, as if these
paths extend invisibly across Worth and Lafayette Streets.
Regardless of New Yorkers’ predilection for jay-walking,
a more site-specific plan would have linked the building entries
to the street intersection, something not commensurate with
Schwartz’s desire to provide seating in the location
of the old fountain, something she called “the only
sunny portion of the site” (Schwartz). This assertion
is questionable – as is her statement that “people
who wish to sit can do so in either sun or shade” (Schwartz)
in her plaza lacking trees3
or other shading devices – if we take the primary function
of the plaza to be the lunchtime activities of the Federal
employees. On sunny days during lunch the plaza is bathed
in sunlight, even on Spring and Fall days, due to the low
height of the Customs Court and the open eastern edge of the
site. It’s not until the sun moves past the Javits Building,
after the lunch hours, that the plaza receives shade. |
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Fig. 13 – View across the plaza space, looking
north |
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Outside of the two primary paths
in the plaza, perception across the space is a flattened series
of green benches (Fig. 13), making cognitive mapping –
“a form of mentally structuring the visual/spatial information
that we are supplied by our immediate surroundings…assisting
us in projecting what spaces beyond our line of sight might
be like” (Correa de Jesus 43) – difficult, hindered
additionally by the mounds restricting vision of the space and
the complex plan (Fig. 14). If cognitive mapping or wayfinding
were overriding concerns in the plaza’s design, the results
definitely would have been different, though not necessarily
appropriate to its goal as a lunchtime spot for Federal employees.
Reiterating this intention, the wayfinding and cognitive mapping
of the space would be strengthened by repeated use of the plaza
and a potential view of the plaza from the offices above. |
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Fig. 14 – View looking east through mounds |
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Population Mapping
As mentioned previously, the two days of observation differed
greatly in weather and population, so this section of mapping
will focus on April 23, the warmer and more populous day.
When I arrived 25 people were using the plaza, meaning seated
or standing next to an empty or occupied bench; by the time
I left 75 minutes later just over 70 people were using the
plaza. The distribution of people on or near the benches during
my stay was relatively even, though when fewer people occupied
the space the population was predominantly on the southern
half of the plaza. Given the great amount of benches (again,
approximately 1,700 linear feet), a population of 70-75 people
appears empty, perhaps stemming from, but not limited to,
the even distribution.
Using Edward T.
Hall’s theory of Proxemics as a model, the closest that
strangers might sit is twelve feet (Hall 122), meaning solely
individuals (occupying two feet of bench) would render a population
of 121 people.4 This population
is close to twice the average population of the April 23 visit,
though this doesn’t necessarily mean the plaza is not
being used successfully. Rather it might mean that the total
length of bench is too great for the population willing to
use the plaza during lunch.
Another means of judging the success of the space might be
relative to the architect’s intentions. Schwartz contends
that “The double strands of back-to-back benches loop
back and forth and allow for a variety of seating –
intimate circles for groups and outside curves for those who
wish to lunch alone” (Schwartz). Though not explicit
in her reasoning, it is assumed here the inside curves allow
people to sit in closer proximity, while the outside curves
force people apart and beyond one’s peripheral vision.
In a few instances groups of three or more people did use
the inside curves, though they did not limit themselves to
these locations; in some cases groups located themselves on
separate benches facing each other across a pathway. Likewise,
individuals tended to use inside curves as much as outside
ones, counter to Schwartz’s intentions, attributable
in some cases to the increased privacy the mounds provide.
What this analysis shows is that distribution on the benches
is more multifaceted than intended, pointing to flexibility
in the design and shading in the human perception of how to
use the space, unlike the dichotomous framing of the architect’s
intentions. |
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Fig. 15 – Smoker's "stage" in
the southeast corner of the plaza |
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Use Analysis
From observations on the two visits, it’s apparent
that the users of the plaza tend to fall into three categories:
those with business in the Federal buildings (including employees
and not), those passing through and/or staying for a short
amount of time, and those who live in the area (particularly
Chinatown). For the first group, the non-employees use the
plaza to wait for their appointments. They tend to be Hispanic
or other nationalities – due to the building’s
function as an Immigration Court – carrying paperwork
and sometimes looking through it before moving inside. One
individual on a discussion forum indicated that he waited
at the plaza four times during his naturalization process
and lamented the space’s lack of shade (PDF
file). This was reinforced on my second visit to the site,
when, walking east on Worth Street, I noticed about 10-15
people sitting on planters along the north side of the Javits
Building in its shadow; turning the corner to the plaza proper,
I found only a few people using the sun-drenched benches on
the northern half of the plaza.
The other half of the first group is clearly the plaza’s
majority user, the Federal employees from the two buildings.
Many smoke in the designated area on the raised portion in
the space’s southwest corner (Fig. 15), but many smokers
gravitate to the benches. As well, many people smoke along
the east façade of the Javits Building, also moving
to the benches on occasion. Other uses include eating lunch,
reading, talking on a cell phone, and talking with one or
more acquaintances. Whatever the use of the space, the duration
observed was never more than 30 minutes, apparently long enough
for some people to eat, read, and talk on their cell
phone!
The second group of people is those who use the plaza to
cut through from (typically) Lafayette to Worth Street, as
mentioned previously. Occasionally people who fit this group
will stop and sit for a short duration, sometimes looking
at the courthouses across Foley Square, perusing a New York
City travel book, or waiting for a friend, usually leaving
as soon as their friend appears. The last group observed is
residents, assumed to be from nearby Chinatown; in one case
two Asian women stretched in one of the bench loops, a morning
activity also observed by the other project members. Resident
activities also included reading, just sitting, and meeting
friends (parting ways immediately after meeting).
Uses observed tended
to coincide with the planned demographic: Federal employees
during lunch hours. An extension to to the rest of the daytime
hours has occurred with the smokers spilling over from the
designated smoking area. Regardless of the use group, visits
tended to be short, due to factors both contextual –
the location of the plaza in Lower Manhattan’s Civic
Center – and design – the lack of shade and design
features beyond seating.5 |
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Fig. 16 – Standard NYC park benches and
planter after Tilted Arc removal. |
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Aesthetic Analysis
Returning to the
current design’s relationship to the site’s previous
occupants – both the Serra piece and the temporary benches
and planters – it is this paper’s contention that
the success of the space is dependent upon how Schwartz approached
her design in relation to these predecessors and in relation
to aesthetics. These two approaches are linked in the way
the benches refer to standard New York City park benches but
depart from them in their length, their shape (curls), and
their color. This can be read as a postmodern treatment, where
type is seen as something plastic, to be modified for effect.
Schwartz admits that “each element is tweaked slightly
from its historic predecessor” (Schwartz), the benches
referring to the Olmsteadean tradition of park design (Schwartz),
the Federal government’s temporary solution for Javits
Plaza (Fig. 16), and the curve of Serra’s Tilted
Arc.6 She further refers
to French parterres as inspiration. These ornamental gardens
with paths defined by trimmed hedges are another reference
layered upon the benches, though here landscape becomes furniture,
requiring the occasional repainting rather than trimming.
Schwartz’s influences are therefore a combination of
landscape and art, reinforced by her statement that “full
art and landscape architectural design services were required
for the transformation [of Javits Plaza] to take place”
(Schwartz). Aesthetic responses to the plaza in online discussions
are predominantly negative, describing it as ugly, bland and
homogenous, cute but kitschy, and ridiculous (PDF
file). But these aesthetic descriptions are also related
to frustrations arising from the plaza’s function, or
apparent lack thereof (lack of shade, poor circumnavigation),
a consideration most public art projects would not be subject
to. |
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Fig. 17 – Panorama looking north; click image for larger
view |
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Conclusion
To determine the
success of Jacob Javits Plaza based on purely formal and aesthetic
grounds would be incomplete, but to separate the formal morphology
of the site from the human use of it is equally so. The plaza’s
design is an amalgam of the Federal client’s wishes7,
the site’s history, remote historical influences, postmodern
theory, and site constraints. These considerations combine
into a space the public interacts with, and these interactions
help determine if the design as executed is successful. Even
though Schwartz aimed to create a “lively open space”
(Schwartz), the use of the space as observed is far from lively.
If anything, the bright colors and playful forms seem to strive
to offset the apparently sedate use of the space.8
If we return to intention as an indicator of the site’s
success, then the plaza is fulfilling its intention of serving
Federal employees. But if success depends upon use by the
greater public, then the plaza is not entirely successful,
attributable to the site’s location in the city and
the design’s predilection for short-term and limited
use. This is related to a lack of considering Proxemics, wayfinding,
and cognitive mapping in the design, each linked in the excessive,
curling benches. Primarily, the design’s limitations
are due to its treatment as both art and landscape. Here art
is used as a means of restricting use – in many ways
echoing Richard Serra’s Tilted Arc –
though here coupled with landscape architecture to provide
a friendly, non-confrontational design. |
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Notes
1.
For someone in a wheelchair, the only access to the plaza
from the sidewalk is via the plaza's northern edge.
2.
A similar confusion occurred at other mounded areas, though
not nearly as often as the one described.
3.
Schwartz ascribes the lack of trees to the fact the plaza
sits above an underground parking garage and therefore cannot
support the topsoil required for the root balls of trees (Duffy
24), though the interim scheme shows otherwise.
4.
Ignoring the individual conditions of each length of bench:
1,700 lf / 2 ft per person = 850 people maximum. Given that
one out of every seven 2’ sections will be occupied
in this scenario, 850 / 7 = 121 persons.
5.
In a Schwartz monograph (Meyer), it is noted that the plaza
at one time included drinking fountains.
6.
“An architect observed that Martha Schwartz’s
new design looked as if Tilted Arc had split and
was running around all over the place.” (Senie 178)
7.
Although no direct information of the client’s wishes
was found, Schwartz “agreed to lower [the height of
the mounds] because security officers insisted that they be
able to shoot over the tops.” (Senie 99)
8.
The constant presence of security – guards, cameras,
security booth – as a deterrent to aberrant behavior
cannot go without saying, though unfortunately the security
presence cannot be addressed at length in the context of this
essay.
References
Correa de Jesus, Sergio. “Environmental
Communication: Design Planning for Wayfinding.” Design
Issues. Volume 10, Number 3, Autumn 1994: 32-51.
Duffy, Ellie. “Better than nature.”
Building Design, April 30, 2004: 24.
Goldberger, Paul. “Critic’s Notebook:
Harmonizing Old and New Buildings.” The New York
Times, May 2, 1985: Section C, 23.
Hall, Edward T. The Hidden Dimension.
New York: Doubleday, 1966.
Hughes, Robert. “The Trials of Tilted
Arc.” Time, June 3, 1985: 78.
Meyer, Elizabeth K. Martha Schwartz:
Transfiguration of the Commonplace. Easthampton, MA:
Spacemaker Press, 1997.
Schwartz, Martha. Martha
Schwartz Partners. Accessed May 22, 2007
Senie, Harriet F. The Tilted Arc
Controversey: Dangerous Precedents?. Minneapolis: University
of Minnesota Press, 2002.
Serra, Richard. “Introduction,”
in The Destruction of Tilted Arc: Documents.
Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1991.
Stern, Robert A. M,.Thomas Mellins, and David
Fishman. New York 1960: Architecture and Urbanism Between
the Second World War and the Bicentennial. New York:
The Monacelli Press, 1995.
Vogel, Carol. “The Art Market.”
The New York Times, May 28, 1993: Section C, 23.
Weyergraf-Serra, and Martha Buskirk, eds.
The Destruction of Tilted Arc: Documents. Cambridge,
MA: MIT Press, 1991.
White, Norval and Elliot Willensky, eds.
AIA Guide to New York City. San Diego: Harcourt Brace
Jovanovich, 1988.
Attachments
:: Mapping
(PDF)
:: Field
Notes (PDF) |
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Text © John Hill |
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