New York is the city of the ephemeral. Nothing’s something for too long here. People travel like colors flitting along in gusts of wind—the only brush of kindness I’ve felt on the street is the nudge of someone’s hurried tote bag against my body, frantically following the opposing inertia of working midtown women as I trek to Brooklyn.
But actually, I found myself being gregarious in the grocery store, overhearing a man’s pleas for someone, anyone, to help him find the dill (a conundrum of which I was also a victim). So the clerk directed him vaguely to ‘over there,’ though my dill senses were clearly more acute than that of this patron’s. I found myself at the altar of the feathery plant, snatching up a bouquet of the wonderfully perfumed herb. I could see a cocktail of frustration and helplessness stirring inside my unbeknown friend, frozen in his feet just across from the avocados. I grabbed a wreath and wordlessly gestured it to him (I lost my voice somewhere in TriBeCa due to the repetitive harassment of seasonal allergies, and I have not yet retrieved it). He grabbed it with a confused thank you and went along his flustered way. One observer abrasively announced, Wow, I wish someone would do my shopping for me too! It just goes to show how the rhythm of the city works its way into everything it comes in contact with.
In my various classes I have had to garner much of my learning from fieldwork; an extensive observation of the city as it is naturally, throughout the day. Of course this giant labyrinth has beasts lurking in every corner, throwing you off as to where the center of this maze might be, or where one corridor ends and another begins. Studio has begun with the usual task of site analysis, which is especially compelling in New York City. There can be debauchers on one corner and infants on another. Industry in one shop and anarchy in the next. Each storefront is an alternate universe in relation to its neighbor. In fact, the density and height of the city allows for about 72,000 blocks of palimpsestual bliss to occur, and the only thing that constitutes the boundary to the number of Jenga-like combinations one can find is the vertical limit on the plot. I believe a certain Koolhaas refers to this effect, this almost deliciously ‘delirious’ condition of the island.
The first two weeks are already flying by faster than express trains on the subway. My internship has me busy with entry level work, creating three dimensional models for design problems, which is entirely self-directed. I feel like I’ve been in the thick of this for years already.
Some events that I have encountered which only a city such as New York can afford me:
A fall fashion preview in a wrought iron SoHo loft.
Some foot stompin’ old school R&B tunes at Rough Trade, along with 180 gram pressed vinyl.
Poetic expression (IN MY ARCHITECTURE STUDIO!) and a viscous AutoCAD model of the NYC area.
Firsthand insight into how to build an architecture firm with better business relations, and the chance to jive with big names such as Bradford Perkins.
Some wild transformations, like the San Gennaro festival in Little Italy.
And with that, I look forward to chasing down forthcoming expeditions and encounters prescribed by my New York City semester.