That's the title of this series of photos displayed along a corrugated metal fence on Vernon Boulevard beneath the Queensboro Bridge. The description of this work (copied from a sign mounted on the fence) is a wonderful example of overblown artspeak:
Six photographs transpose the concealed environment behind the fence onto its face. These images of the existing environment were then re-photographed with cut emergency blankets and blue latex gloves captured in a falling state, suggesting precipitation, celebration and elusiveness — a fictive space. Neither the images nor the scene can ever be viewed in entirety, partially obscured by the flurry.
Located in Queensbridge Park, this monstrosity helps ventilate the 63rd Street Tunnel, which carries the F train between Queens and Manhattan.
Located in the overpass to the Queensboro Plaza subway station, which is served by the 7, N, and Q trains. (Back when the W existed, it stopped here instead of the Q.) NYC subway trivia: Queensboro Plaza is the only station in the system where you can make a cross-platform transfer between A Division and B Division trains.
Like almost all NYC playground animals, these birds owe their existence to Henry Stern.
Playground maps rule! This one, which I couldn't even fit in the shot, shows the five boroughs of NYC. In case you're pondering the significance of the windmill: it's part of the city seal.
It reads: "All Cars Transfer to Bloomingdale's", a slogan born 110 years ago.
On the base of a sundial near the Citicorp Building. Maria Hernandez was an anti-drug community activist shot to death in 1989. Brian Watkins was a tourist from Utah stabbed to death in 1990 trying to defend his mother in a subway mugging. I can't find anything about Vincent C. McNeill (surveyor) or Joseph E. McGrath (educator); perhaps they were also killed around 1990, when the Citicorp Building opened.
These signs predate the NYPD's most recent Model Block program (found to be unconstitutional in 2002), but they probably denote something similar.
Helps protect the bark from rapid temperature change on sunny winter days
Ground was broken for this library 100 years ago, but it wasn't completed until 1940. (1940 - (2012 - 100)) = 28!
I love that the library website has an entire page devoted to the inscriptions on this building!









































