Man Made Lake

IRT Pelham Line

(also known in the Bronx as the 6 train)

Around Town 2

West 26th Street, Chelsea
Manhattan Avenue, Greenpoint
36th Street, Astoria
Grand Concourse, Fordham

IRT White Plains Road Line

In the late 70s, when subway graffiti was at its peak, the 2 & 5 line was widely considered the most prestigious canvas in the system, in part because it showcased writers from some of the toughest neighborhoods in the Bronx and Brooklyn. By the early 90s the subways were essentially clean, and since then most traditional tagging with spray paint has been reduced to commissioned works on warehouses and delivery trucks.

I don't deny that the majority of graffiti was and is tasteless scribbling, and period shots of subway car interiors completely covered in felt tip markings make me gag. But I do get the impression that watching elevated trains was a much more exciting endeavor thirty years ago.

There's some amazing work documented in Martha Cooper and Henry Chalfant's classic 1984 book Subway Art. To get an idea of what you missed, check out a digitized copy here.

Elevated

    New York already had an extensive elevated train network when the first subway line was built in 1904. The move to subways has consistently been seen as an improvement, and the concerns are valid: noise and light. But nobody ever took the aesthetics of riding these trains into account. Every time I look out the windows at dark tunnel walls I wonder what it would be like if I were 100 feet higher, looking down on 53rd Street or Trinity Place.

    If you're skeptical, watch this short film about the 3rd Avenue El, made just a few years before it was dismantled in 1955.

Approximately 40% of the present "subway" system is elevated, mostly deep in the outer boroughs.

Tremont, the Bronx

    I've noticed a consistent hierarchy of the boroughs, both in conversation and in writing.  Manhattan is, of course, Manhattan.  Brooklyn is typically associated with brownstones and pre-WWII ethnic enclaves, however false they may be, not to mention recent gentrification across a rash of neighborhoods.  It was also a functioning independent city for a time, earning it a distinct downtown, intense pride, and the rank of borough #2. 

    Queens is by and large considered a significant drop from Brooklyn.  A smattering of townships and unincorporated neighborhoods upon being annexed into the city, Queens is essentially a postwar-borough, largely an early, ugly attempt at suburbia.  A handful of attractive gentrifying neighborhoods, easy subway access to midtown and the heart of New York's "melting pot" keep it a step above the remaining boroughs.

    Staten Island and the Bronx, for their own reasons, tie for last. 

    Staten Island was mostly rural before the Federal Highway Act.  Aside from a handful of Victorian homes and some farm houses, it's suburban.  It's so disconnected from the rest of the city, both mentally and physically, that the "forgotten borough" is typically not included on maps. 

    The Bronx, to it's credit, has great subway access.  Home to a massive art deco building stock and some of the city's only hills, the Bronx isn't physically lacking.  But it can't shake it's rough history, and the young gentrifiers have generally steered clear.  Everybody I talk to always suggests the same two or three destinations (including the zoo).  I'm skeptical that a borough of New York City that has so much history and is home to over a million people can have so little to offer.

    And yet, thus far that's been my experience.