I was equally terrible at printmaking, yet found the process enjoyable, and could often be found in the print shop dropping acid—that is metal plates into acid baths to etch them for printing on an old timey press. Despite my lack of abilities, I think learning the process gave me a special appreciation for the craft. There is just something exceptionally lovely about the emotion that a print can convey, especially in the realm of railroading. From the light that filters through a massive train station window to the belches of smoke erupting from a locomotive, the subject matter provides a veritable playground for the skilled printmaker.

Enter Joseph Pennell. More than just skilled in the arts of printmaking, he was a master of the craft. Although his work illustrating articles for Harper’s and The Century Magazine took him around the world, his prints of railroading subjects in Pennsylvania (his home) and New York (the city that inspired him and eventually became his home) are especially memorable. Working mainly in the techniques of intaglio, aquatint, and lithography, his body of work captures notable moments in American railroading history—from the construction of New York’s Pennsylvania Station and Hell Gate Bridge, to lovely views of Grand Central Terminal, and Philadelphia’s long-gone Broad Street Station.

So what exactly goes into a print? For intaglio [above left], the process consists of coating a metal plate with a waxy substance, and then etching lines (backward, as the print is a reverse of the plate) with sharp tools into that wax. From there, the plate is placed in an acid bath, where the exposed lines are “bitten” into the plate. The wax is later removed, and the plate can be coated with ink and printed through a press to yield a version on paper. Aquatint works similarly, but allows for gradations in tone on the metal plate beyond the linework of intaglio. Lithography [above right] is a departure from the previous processes in that the artist uses a waxy crayon to draw an image onto a stone plate. Acid is likewise used, but here it creates a surface on the stone through a chemical reaction which will either hold or repel ink from which a print can be produced. While the acid process of intaglio requires drawings made of thin lines and points, lithographs are not constrained by this, and each technique can be used to evoke a completely different mood in the final print.

Pennell’s early printmaking work was predominantly in the technique of intaglio, but he later came to prefer the process of lithography. No matter which technique he used, Pennell had an incredible talent of conveying textures and emotions through his artful linework. He zealously attended to detail and was quite the perfectionist—trusting no one but himself to pull prints from his plates, and subsequently destroying his own plates after 50 printings to prevent the possibility of anyone finding them and attempting to print degraded images from them later.

Although Pennell’s work holds both artistic and historic merit, from today’s lens the man himself held many ethically problematic opinions. In fact, were he alive and working today, it is quite possible that he would have been rightfully “cancelled” for his racism. Yet in the time period in which he were alive, Pennell’s opinions were likely commonplace. As such, I think it is important to view his work in historical context. He was one of a long line of men who felt that art institutions should solely be the space of white males, and in his autobiography, The Adventures of an Illustrator, describes the admittance of Henry Ossawa Tanner to his “white [art] school” as “the coming of the n—–.” After detachedly recounting the time when Tanner was dragged out onto Broad Street and mock crucified to his easel (which Pennell may have been an active participant in), Pennell opines, “curiously, there never has been a great Negro or a great Jew artist in the history of the world.” Apart from the noteworthy moments he captures in his prints, Pennell’s work also encapsulates a sentiment of a world that we continue to strive to move beyond.

Creator: Pennell, Joseph (creator)

http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/ppmsca.50571

If you enjoyed this article, consider making a donation to the Friends of the Tanner House, the organization looking to restore Henry Ossawa Tanner’s house in Philadelphia.

Once an artist completed a plate, ink was applied and then wiped off the surface. Nestled in the grooves of the plate, the remainder of the ink yielded a transferred image when when applied to paper and run through a press. Although the image would be nearly the same each time, artists could always make slight variations with different colored inks, or by cropping out areas of the image. Eventually, the plate would wear out and a new one would be created, sometimes very similar to the first.

Above: Two printings of an identical plate, though cropped to make a vertical or horizontal image.
Below: Three very similar illustrations of the train shed. The plate for the image at left was likely a reference for the illustration at center.

When thinking about creating a post of illustrations and prints from the old Grand Central Depot, I thought that a bunch of black and white illustrations might be a tad boring. If I had the original plates I could reproduce many of these images in an array of colors, but since I don’t, I can simulate it in Photoshop. Just like my time spent in the print shop, it’s always a fun thought experiment to try different colors and inks. Some may look good, others not so much. It is a fun exercise, at least.

So, enjoy a colorful look at life at Grand Central Depot. Some of the illustrations come from timetables, others from publications like Harper’s Weekly and The Century Illustrated. A good portion of the illustrations come from Orson Lowell, who spent time at the station observing passengers and recreated the moments in time where a couple missed the last train, or the “human medley” found in the waiting room. Perhaps you may even learn a new fact—for example, did you know the Depot’s baggage room was nicknamed “the morgue?”

Vintage engraving of Grand Central Depot, New York, 19th Century. Grand Central Depot brought the trains of the New York Central and Hudson River Railroad, the New York and Harlem Railroad, and the New York and New Haven Railroad together in one large station.

If you’re interested in reading more about life at the Depot, I recommend the Century Illustrated’s article “The Gates of the City” which can be found here. Both the author and the illustrator observed the goings-on at the station and astutely encapsulated the lives of various travelers, especially commuters. I will leave you with an excerpt of their story…

“Until the first blow fell, no one was convinced that Penn Station really would be demolished, or that New York would permit this monumental act of vandalism against one of the largest and finest landmarks of its age of Roman elegance.”

— New York Times editorial

For some, merely preserving future landmarks would never be enough—one had to right a previous wrong. Many planners, architects, and students have all posited over the years about what might serve as a fitting replacement for the monumental Pennsylvania Station. From futuristic renderings of transit hubs that more resembled spaceship docking bays, to modern designs evoking the classical magnificence of the original station, to a modern rebuild of the original station itself—ideas were endless. Some involved outright removal of Madison Square Garden—returning the lost light to the station. Other ideas incorporated the steel bones of the Garden and wrapped them in glass. Yet other ideas promoted a relocation of the station itself to the neighboring Farley Post Office across Eighth Avenue, designed by the same architects in the same style as the original station. Ideas were tossed around for decades, funding was achieved and then pilfered, tenants were in and then out, support was gained and then revoked. Plans almost came to fruition in 1999, and then again in 2005, but fickle winds played havoc on any ground gained. Were it not for one influential cheerleader, the project never would have gotten off the ground—forever in an “I’ll believe it when I see it” state of limbo.

Champion of Architecture

Daniel Patrick Moynihan first came to New York aged six, his family settling in the neighborhood of Hell’s Kitchen. Formative portions of Moynihan’s youth included shining shoes in Penn Station for nickels and dimes, serving in the Navy, and his college years—culminating in a Fulbright grant to study at the London School of Economics. These years spent in New York and London, living among grand structures, sparked in Moynihan a lifelong interest and appreciation of architecture. Entering politics in the 1950s, Moynihan first served as a speechwriter and acting secretary for New York Governor Averell Harriman. He was later an assistant to Labor Secretaries Arthur J. Goldberg and W. Willard Wirtz, where he penned the “Guiding Principles for Federal Architecture” as part of a Kennedy administration initiative to reinvigorate the deteriorating Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington.

Moynihan’s guidelines have influenced the construction of government buildings for more than half a century, and established that good design was not optional—anything else would be a waste of taxpayer dollars. Although buildings should be efficient, accessible, and economical, they must also “provide visual testimony to the dignity, enterprise, vigor, and stability of the American Government.” Instead of defining an official architectural style, buildings should incorporate regional traditions and contemporary concepts in American architecture, and designs should come from the finest of artists, not mandated by politicians.

Moynihan’s extensive political career included working for four presidential administrations, ambassadorship to India, and later to the United Nations. He had a hand in many architectural redevelopment and preservation projects, as well as transportation infrastructure legislation, encouraging communities to plan for future transportation and mass transit needs. When elected as a senator of New York in 1976 Moynihan continued to champion these causes, culminating in a project that combined both of those worlds. While certainly a complicated man—holding views about race, reproduction, and health that may not coincide with contemporary thought—Moynihan’s steadfast pursuit of a new Penn Station will be his legacy. Restoring grandeur to the overcrowded Penn Station would at least right one wrong of the past. With Madison Square Garden’s placement providing a challenge to any redevelopment of the original site, moving the station into the neighboring Farley Post Office, no longer being fully utilized by the postal service, became the preferred concept with which to move forward.

The Farley Post Office

When plans were being made for Penn Station, the Pennsylvania Railroad sold the idea of constructing a new post office on Eighth Avenue to the US Post Office Department. The concept would be a win-win for both sides—the railroad had an immediate taker to sell air rights to, and the post office would have easy access to all of the tracks that would carry mail across the country. Accepting the offer in 1903, the government began planning the new post office. Under the Tarsney Act of 1893 the government was authorized to hold competitions for federal building design, and prominent architects of the day, including Cass Gilbert (who later designed the Woolworth Building and New Haven Union Station), Heins & Lafarge (IRT subway), and McKim, Mead, and White all competed for the commission. A judging panel of four prominent American architects ultimately selected McKim, Mead, and White, who conveniently were also working on the new station for the Pennsylvania Railroad across the street.

Designed to visually match Penn Station, an imposing façade of twenty fifty-three foot tall Corinthian columns sat atop a full-length set of thirty one steps, flanked on both sides by a square pavilions topped with a stepped pyramid. The internal steel framework and support structure of the building was hidden underneath stone and plaster coverings. Even the monumental columns of the façade were not solid stone, but a hollow decorative shell wrapped around a steel beam, a near perfect facsimile of the real thing.

A quotation from the translated Histories of Herodotus, which became an informal creed of the Post Office due to its presence here, was selected by the US Department of the Treasury and inscribed above the columns—”neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.” At the main entrance atop of the steps on Eighth Avenue was a two story tall marble floored reception hall with a painstakingly detailed ceiling decorated with the emblems of the ten member countries of the Universal Postal Union at the time of  construction.

Completed in 1914 and known as the Pennsylvania Terminal upon opening, the building later became the city’s general post office in 1918, over the former primary post office near City Hall. Not long after, with congestion at its peak, the post office was expanded westward. Purchasing the lot from the railroad, McKim, Mead, and White returned to expand the building and create an annex, seamlessly fitting with the aesthetic of the original edifice, completed in 1935. The post office stood guard as the slow destruction of sister building Penn Station commenced in 1963. Bestowed with its own landmark status in 1966, the surviving post office long served as a memory of what we lost. Dedicated as the James A. Farley Building in 1982, the new appellation honored the Postmaster General who oversaw the expansion of the building.

By the 1990s some—including Daniel Patrick Moynihan—had set their sights on the Farley Building as a replacement for Penn Station. Access to the tracks was no longer necessary for delivering the mail, and the Postal Service had already been thinking about moving mail sorting operations elsewhere. After much debate and negotiation, the Postal Service finally agreed to sell the building to the New York state government in 2002 for an estimated $230 million. With the site now guaranteed, the new Penn Station project could begin in earnest.

An array of ideas never built—Diller Scofidio + Renfro, James Carpenter Design Associates, SHoP, SOM, and Woods Bagot reimagine Penn Station with and without Madison Square Garden, or relocated into the Farley Building.

Project Comes to Fruition

The decades-long battle to build a replacement for Penn Station can only be described as complicated—from who would be participating and where the money would come from, all the way down to what it would look like. Various design concepts had been proposed over the years, some with larger price tags than others. Hellmuth, Obata & Kassabaum had proposed a 120-foot parabolic glass arch over Farley’s hall in 1993, imitating the train sheds of Europe. Skidmore, Owings & Merrill released other early concepts in 1999, uncovering the original structural trusses of the building to support a glass ceiling. A second set of glass panes built into the floor would allow natural light to penetrate down to track level. Above it would be a large video board showing video feeds of arriving trains, train schedules, the weather, and even stock tickers. Covering the other half of the hall underneath the glass ceiling would be several waiting pens with hard-backed seats for departures on each track. Although many liked elements of the designs, there were worries that the glass ceilings would be an extravagant expense, which the in-floor glass would only increase, along with limiting mobility through the hall.

Of course, debating the design was only the beginning of the complications. Local governments, politicians, railroads, and developers all needed to be on the same page—at the same time—to make the project work. Senator Moynihan and his team managed to wrangle funds for the project, but unspent dollars sitting idly make an attractive target for other cash strapped-projects, especially when continued delays led only to ballooning costs. Moynihan’s death in 2003 deprived the project of its biggest supporter, and just a year later longtime project opponent and President of Amtrak David Gunn signaled that the national railroad would be bowing out. Gunn cited both lack of funds and the inconvenient placement further west as reasons for their departure. New Jersey Transit and the Long Island Rail Road agreed to take Amtrak’s place.

By 2005 New York had selected Stephen M. Ross of The Related Companies and Steven Roth of Vornado Realty Trust as the developers for the project. Soon after they boasted of a tentative agreement to move Madison Square Garden to the Farley building, leaving the original site open for a new station—a plan that was largely rejected by preservationists and the public. In the end the plans to move Madison Square Garden fell through, and the idea of reconstructing the station above live tracks without impeding service proved undesirable. Finding another tenant large enough to fill the space would prove difficult, with attempts by the developers to woo the Borough of Manhattan Community College into a land swap deal in exchange for building a new campus at Farley ending in another failure. The developers then turned to attempting to lure a biotech or pharmaceutical company to the space, but the slow economy yet again stymied plans for redevelopment.

Yet the idea never fully died, and negotiations eventually lured Amtrak back on board. New railroad president and former New York state DOT Commissioner Joseph Boardman officially agreed to return Amtrak to the project in 2009. By 2010 the government agreed to provide $82 million in stimulus funds to get shovels in the ground, and a Transportation Investments Generating Economic Recovery grant would pay for the first phase of the project, with a $267 million price tag. On October 18, 2010, a ceremonial groundbreaking was held, but it wasn’t until 2012 that a construction contract was offered to Skanska and work truly began on Phase I. Completing that phase, which included the West End Concourse and providing a passageway under Eighth Avenue to reach the Farley Building, was completed in June 2017.

Despite the nearly 25 years it took to complete Phase I, work on Phase II commenced at a rapid pace. Skanska was again contracted to lead the construction, and a groundbreaking ceremony was held in August 2017. Vornado and Related solidified their deal to develop the retail and office space of the project with a contract, leasing the building for 99 years for a contribution of $630 million. The New York state government contributed $550 million, with another $420 million from Amtrak, the Metropolitan Transportation Authority, and the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey, with the rest coming from federal grants

Throughout all the political wrangling and negotiations artists had never stopped imagining what the station could look like. The concept of incorporating light into the project, in sharp contrast to the dingy current station, was well received and repeated nearly every one of these design iterations. Notable further ideas included James Carpenter Design Associates’ 2005 concept that reused the ceiling skylight approach, but was this time was structurally supported by long steel columns, evoking the original skylights of Penn Station. The Municipal Art Society challenged architects to redesign Penn Station’s original site in 2013, both with and without Madison Square Garden. These designs too were filled with light, yet in some cases they still managed to feel cold, with strange and overly futuristic details.

Despite the plentiful ideas across decades, designers often come full circle. SOM’s final design, which was built as part of Phase II, bears striking similarities to their first, notably in revealing and reusing the building’s structural steel trusses. The glass skylights remain, but take on a more fluidic and arching shape, and the floor below the skylights remains open for movement without additional glass mounted in the floor, or waiting pens segmenting the space. With Phase II’s commencement, the station long ago imagined by Moynihan was finally coming to life—and in a final nod to his tireless efforts, the train hall would named in his honor.

Views of the construction of Phase II, including the scaffolding used to install the glass skylights, the crew installing the marble flooring, and the preparation to hang the clock at the center of the hall.

Moynihan Train Hall

When Phase I was completed in 2017, providing riders with additional access to the platforms through the West End Concourse, many were impressed. The design was fully modern and bright, but like the old station it was also underground. To allay the feeling of darkness, the ceiling simulates a sky overhead with LED screens. While certainly a lovely touch, this preview can do little justice for the magnificent view awaiting a visitor in the train hall proper. An escalator connects the old station to the new through this West End Concourse, and while riding to the top one can finally arrive at the long-desired magnificent gateway to the west side of Manhattan.

Filling the east flank of the hall is a comfortable waiting room designed by Rockwell Group, with wood-wrapped walls, cushioned places to sit, tables for work, and ample charging outlets for the modern traveler. At the west, bright ticketing kiosks designed by SOM serve both Amtrak and Long Island Rail Road passengers. A light-filled Metropolitan Lounge designed by FX Collaborative, complete with upscale furnishings and alcove seating areas, boasts a balcony overlooking the expansive hall. Yet all of these fail to compare with the focal point of the redevelopment—a 92 foot high set of arched skylights, comprised of 3,384 insulating frit glass panels, held in place with 670 metric tons of structural steelwork and covering over 5,000 square meters of space. Fabricated and put in place by German company Seele Group, massive scaffolds needed to be erected skyward to facilitate their installation over a year ago. The Tennessee marble floor—Quaker Gray, installed by Miller Druck—provides a warm and elegant touch to the designed space. From that floor one can look skyward and marvel at the six foot by twelve analog clock designed by Pennoyer Architects, yet another nod to the original Penn Station, whose Roman numeraled clock likewise held a position of honor below the skylights. Although the inside of the building is certainly the highlight, the outside has also been given a restoration, with Boston Valley Terra Cotta replicating ornamental designs for the top of the building. After dark the building’s façade is now awash in a cycle of ever changing colored light. The entire redevelopment is itself a work of art, breathing new life into the stately former postal facility.

A photo gallery from Moynihan Train Hall’s opening day. Many visitors came to see the redeveloped building throughout the day, and both the ticketed waiting room and Metropolitan Lounge remained open for all to see.

The Art of Moynihan

Hearkening back to Moynihan’s guiding concepts, the train hall is filled with art (although the man himself would likely have preferred the inclusion of more American artists). Three permanent installations are joined by a video loop of designs created by Moment Factory playing across the four display screens on the east wall below the skylight. Illustrated renditions of an array of New York state landmarks, including the Chrysler Building, Brooklyn Bridge, Apollo Theatre, Flatiron Building, Verrazzano Bridge, Dewey Arch, Coney Island Cyclone, Gantry Park, Bannerman Castle, Buffalo City Hall, the New York State Capitol, Letchworth State Park, and Montauk Point lighthouse, sail across the giant screens. Evoking the Kodak Colorama that was a mainstay for years at Grand Central—with static imagery changed every three weeks—the Moynihan screens provide a modern take on a canvas of ever-changing art.

Kehinde Wiley, known for riffing off of and reimagining the works of old masters with black models, created the stained Czech glass triptych at the 33rd Street entrance entitled Go. The hand painted piece is backlit over the ceiling, featuring break dancers flying across a cloud-filled sky. The work is a modern reinterpretation of the classical frescoes that adorned the ceilings of notable buildings, a connection complete with a young woman’s outstretched hand, referencing Adam’s hand meeting God’s in Michelangelo’s masterpiece on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

Berlin-based artists Michael Elmgreen and Ingar Dragset created The Hive, a diverse city of aluminum skyscrapers, both replica and invented, hanging from the ceiling at the 31st Street entrance. A mirrored base allows viewers to interact with, and become a part of the artwork, despite its location high overhead. The piece weighs more than 30,000 pounds, utilizes 72,000 LED lights, and has six buildings able to change color.

Enclosed within the station’s waiting room are Penn Station’s Half Century, photographs by Canadian visual artist Stan Douglas which recreate nine moments in time at the original Penn Station. Due to the Covid-19 pandemic Douglas individually photographed 400 people in period attire over four days of shooting, later layering the images together to form the crowds in each photo. Interiors of Penn Station were digitally recreated utilizing archival plans and photographs. Reimagined moments include two scenes of an impromptu Vaudeville performance while passengers were stranded in the station due to a snowstorm, soldiers saying their goodbyes before heading off to war, an airplane on display to promote Transcontinental Air Transport, wartime murals plastered across the walls, bandit Celia Cooney’s return to New York by police after spending 65 days on the lam, African American labor organizer Angelo Herndon’s arrival at the station after the Supreme Court decided in his favor, the futuristic Lester Tichy-designed “clamshell” ticket counter installed in 1956, and a scene from the film The Clock, where Judy Garland’s character trips over a soldier’s foot in Penn Station sparking a whirlwind romance—which now appears to take place in the real station, as opposed to a California sound stage.

Overseen by the Public Art Fund, all of the pieces were created remotely, later being delivered to Moynihan for installation. The overarching theme for the three permanent installations is the play between old and new, a reflection of the modern adaptive reuse of a classically-designed piece of architecture. Their total cost was $6.7 million.

Moynihan’s Future

Despite setbacks during construction due to the pandemic, Governor Cuomo was determined to open Moynihan Train Hall on time. Although the hall and its expansive skylights are gorgeous, and you can actually step aboard a train here, it is not yet a world-class destination. Missing are the typical amenities that one would expect from a train station, including restaurants and shops. Walls have been erected to obscure active construction areas from the public. The is expected 120,000 square feet dedicated to retail and restaurants is still a work in progress. Atop the north balcony will be a signature restaurant with tables overlooking the hustle and bustle of the hall. A food hall designed by Elkus Manfredi architects will be located on the ground floor. Two more signature restaurants will round out the culinary selection, with one rendering showing a restaurant providing outdoor dining at the corner of 33rd and 9th Avenue.

The lone open amenities are a Starbucks and a small Taste NY kiosk on the ground floor adjacent to the waiting room. Magnolia Bakery’s storefront, also located on the ground floor, looks more ready than the rest. French-inspired cafe Maman, nostalgic pizza parlor Sauce Pizzeria, traditional coffee shop Birch Coffee, artisanal water bagel maker H&H Bagel, comfort food purveyor Jacob’s Pickles, specialty roaster Blue Bottle Coffee, locally made Davey’s Ice Cream, and graffiti covered eatery Burger Joint are all slated to be part of the final repertoire of eateries which, along with the retail shops, are expected to open this fall.

Work continues on completing the 740,000 square feet of office space also on site—complete with 70,000 square feet of outdoor park space on the fifth floor, where one can look down upon the tops of the train hall’s arched skylights. Facebook has signed a lease for the Moynihan office space, adding to their existing lease at soon-to-open 50 Hudson Yards, cementing a foothold in the West Side’s “tech hub” and joining giants Google, Apple, and Amazon.

The Postal Service still maintains a presence in the building’s entrance hall for anyone looking to buy stamps or mail a letter—but some hope that they will eventually move all operations elsewhere, finally leaving the structure open for a full adaptive reuse.

Moynihan Train Hall is open daily from 5 AM to 1 AM, off hours travelers will have to use dreary Penn Station. Visit at different times to fully appreciate the light aspect of the design—recommended times are midmorning on a sunny day to catch the rays through the skylights, or after dark when the space is illuminated by color changing LEDs.

Taken as a work of art, Moynihan Train Hall and the Farley Building’s redevelopment is truly as beautiful as it is remarkable. It is another facet of the West Side’s transformation over past fifteen years, along with the opening of the High Line, the rapid development of shops, a public plaza, an arts center and several high rises as part of Hudson Yards, the expansion of the Javits Center and the extension of the 7 Line. Yet Manhattan’s core has always lain closer to the East Side, and it is debatable how much this transformation will shift residents, workers, and visitors westward. Coupled with the behavioral changes of remote work and reticence to travel due to the pandemic, it remains to be seen how many people will truly use Moynihan Train Hall and whether it will ultimately be deemed a worthy investment or a tastefully designed boondoggle that neither sped up trains nor increased their frequency.

Though the Tunnelbana has a wealth of stations filled with interesting art, it is some of the stations located deeper underground that have captured the interest of many riders and photographers. As a unique design choice, during the excavation of these stations the bedrock was left exposed, creating the feeling that you are deep inside a cave. Each cavern is painted wildly by an array of artists – some in pink camouflage, and others in bright primary colors. While some are clearly unnatural, others evoke a real sense of a hidden cave – painted in subdued colors with primitive illustrations of a mammoth and of the sun. And even others create an interesting interplay between the rough exposed rock, and walls of colorful polished tiles. Suffice it to say, the Stockholm Metro is quite an interesting, and exceptionally unique system.

Words, of course, can’t adequately describe the varied – and in some cases, downright wild – decor of these stations, so let’s take a little visual journey together!

For her work in Minnesota, Blum designed work for the East Bank and West Bank stations, located on either side of the Mississippi River in Minneapolis. At West Bank you’ll find the work Immigration/Migration, which features birds fabricated out of stainless-steel, and wire mesh etched with patterns. The etched mesh is certainly my favorite, as it is extremely subtle. The patterns are just barely visible under normal light, but when direct sun rays hit the mesh, the pattern is extremely bright and really shines.

  
 
  

For the East Bank station, Blum’s art reflects mathematical formulas – referencing the station’s proximity to the University of Minnesota’s main campus. The formulas are sandblasted into concrete, and hypocycloids cut out of stainless steel mounted above. The effect is both interesting and attractive.

  
 
  
  
  

Art plans from the website of artist Nancy Blum.

Anyway, that is it for today’s quick post. If you’re interested in checking out some of the other transit based art we’ve featured here, be sure to have a look at our Arts for Transit tag.

A daguerrotype considered one of the earliest known railroad photographs, circa 1850. Via the Center for Railroad Photography and Art.

I consider my upbringing to be on the very bridge of old-school photography and the “modern” technology world. I grew up shooting film, and in art school was expected to develop my own negatives and prints (admittedly, I hated it). Likewise, I remember getting my hands on my very first digital camera as a freshman in high school – it was a clunky beast, taking a 3.5″ floppy disk to save just a few photos. It wasn’t until I was in college that I got my very own digital camera (a simple point-and-shoot), and I didn’t get a digital DSLR until after I had graduated. I never fully enjoyed photography much until I had gone full digital, and since then I’ve attempted to embrace all the newest tech that I can get my hands on.

Image from a glass plate negative of Grand Central Terminal’s construction. From the Library of Congress.

Because of my love of photographic technology, and a suggestion by a reader, I’m going to be starting a new feature project on this blog – namely a column entitled “Trains and Modern Photography.” The column will feature both modern photographic technology, like the aforementioned drones, to GoPros, as well as modern techniques, like panoramic, high dynamic range, and timelapses – all from the perspective of a railfan. Though it will be of most interest to the photographer, I hope that everyone will be able to enjoy it, essentially seeing the “behind the scenes” of how great photos are made.

Modern tech in a classic setting at Grand Central Terminal

So that is about it for this introduction… look for the first “Trains and Modern Photography” post tomorrow, represented by a light green dot, which you’ll see now added to the category list on the right bar of the site. If you happen to have any suggestions or ideas of technology or topics we should cover, shoot me a message or just comment below!

183rd Street

Artist: Jose Ortiz

Title: Many Trails

Found in the mezzanine area of the station, the glassword at 183rd Street depicts scenes from the area, both from the past and present. The title of the piece derives from the symbol depicted on the first panel of the piece – it is the Mohican “Many Trails” symbol. The meaning behind the symbol is described as thus:

The design symbolizes the endurance, strength, and hope of a long-suffering, proud, and determined people. The curved shape represents the arms of a man raised in prayer. the circles represent many campfires. The lines represent the many trails taken from the time the Indians left their ancestral homes.

Some of the scenes depicted in the piece are the lands once inhabited by the Siwanoy Nation (a branch of the Mohicans) in the 1600s, the Croton Aqueduct, St. Nicholas of Tolentine Church, and the Hall of Fame for Great Americans at Bronx Community College.

  
 
  

176th Street

Artist: Juan Sanchez

Title: Reaching Out For Each Other

Originally designed with shaped bits of colored paper, Sanchez’s artwork features hands reaching out. Although the shapes are simple, they are easily recognizable, and add splashes of brilliant color to the platform and mezzanine areas of the station.

Translated from paper to faceted glass – at left, one of Sanchez’s original works, at right, the same art in glass installed at the station.

  
 
   
  
 

Mount Eden Avenue

Artist: Amir Bey

Title: The Procession of Folk #3

At Mount Eden Avenue you’ll find colorful faces rendered in faceted glass on both the platform and lower entrance areas to the station. While the ones on the platform are certainly nice, the lower ones really shine – passing light projects the colors of the glass onto the floor. Each face represents a specific individual, someone known to the artist, and symbolizes the uniqueness of each rider that passes by.

  
   
  

170th Street

Artist: Dina Bursztyn

Title: Views from Above

Next along the line is “Views from Above” – which like Mount Eden Avenue is located on the platform and also downstairs in the station’s entrances. Bursztyn makes a little play on how the stations at the end of the 4 line are all elevated, depicting plants and animals in a similar elevated perspective. The brilliant colors of the faceted glass echo the colors of the sky seen from the elevated platform during sunrises and sunsets.

  
 
   
  

167th Street

Artist: Carol Sun

Title: A Bronx Reflection

Last, but certainly not least, is “A Bronx Reflection” – definitely one of the more beautiful bits of glass on the 4 line, if not the most beautiful. Installed in the station’s lower passageway, twelve colorful panels reflect a vision of growing up in the Bronx. Featuring text in both English and Spanish, the piece depicts animals, plants, schools, shops, and churches – culminating with a view from a window, complete with a steaming mug of coffee. All of these are scenes plucked from the memories of the artist, a Chinese-American artist who grew up in the Bronx, and teaches art to high-schoolers there today.

 
  
   
 
  
   
 

That wraps up the glass art found on the 4 Line… There are plenty of other Arts for Transit pieces along the line, but I’m featuring my favorite medium. While mosaics and other such pieces are certainly lovely, faceted glass has a unique ability to transcend the wall on which it is placed. As the daylight changes and the sun’s rays reflect through the glass, colors are projected onto the platform, providing an ever changing view.

Arts for Transit is a wonderful program, and if you’re interested in some of the other things you might find at various MTA transit stations, they have an app that you can download documenting the various art along the way. Coming this fall, a second edition of the book “Along the Way: MTA Arts for Transit” will be hitting the shelves, which will contain a photo or two of mine as well.

Because several of the illustrators contributing to the magazine lived in Connecticut, the New Haven Line and commuters from the state were depicted on The New Yorker’s cover several times. Westport’s Historical Society had an exhibit featuring some of the Connecticut artwork from the magazine. From what I’ve seen on the internet, the exhibit (which ended last month) looked quite interesting, including some preliminary sketches of the covers by some of the artists.

I figured that I’d create my own little exhibit of covers here, of course, railroad related. Below you’ll find a collection of some of my favorite covers from The New Yorker, all featuring transit in some way. Enjoy!

 
1926 cover by Carl Rose, and 1927 Grand Central Terminal cover by Theodore G. Haupt. Note the stylized train on display in the main concourse – this is a replica of the Dewitt Clinton engine that operated on the Mohawk & Hudson Railroad in 1831. It was built for the 1893 Columbian Exposition, was then on display in Grand Central in the ’20s, and then taken to Chicago for the Pageant of Progress Exposition. That train exists to this day – it is on display at the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan.

1929 cover by Theodore G. Haupt featuring the New York Central Railroad building on Park Avenue.

  
Covers by: Adolph K. Kronengold (1929), Garrett Price (1933), and a view of the original Pennsylvania Station by Ilonka Karasz (1934).

 
Covers by Christina Malman (1941), Peter Arno (1942).

  
Covers by Constantin Alajalov (1944), and Edna Eicke (1948 and 1949).

A New Haven Line scene by Arthur Getz from 1962, titled “Weekenders Goodbye.”

 
Cover art by Helen E Hokinson (1949), and Charles E Martin (1954).

 
Three covers by Arthur Getz: 1960, 1960, and 1961.

Charles Saxon captures a commuter on the New Haven Line in 1965.

  
Covers by Arthur Getz (1963), Charles E Martin (1964), Arthur Getz (1967).

 
Covers by Arthur Getz (1971), Eugene Mihaesco (1978).

Reimagining the New York Subway map by Roz Chast in 2008.

 
Covers by Kathy Osborn (1988), Harry Bliss (1998).

A missed connection on a 2004 cover, by Adrian Tomine.

 
Covers by Carter Goodrich (2005), Mark Ulriksen (2008).

A beautiful subway sunset from 2011 by Eric Drooker.

While the railroad art is certainly gorgeous, I must make a full confession… the non-rail related “Carlos Danger” edition of The New Yorker by John Cuneo is probably my favorite of all time.

In some late-night weekend boredom, I worked on a few posters showing the trains of Europe through the lens of street signs and their pictographs. The first one features the pictographs used by each European country to represent trains, in the colors of their flags. The top 20 countries are shown in descending order based on how many miles of rail they have.

If you like the flag poster, you can buy a copy here.

Technically speaking, the train pictograph above represents a grade crossing without barriers. An alternate sign is in use for crossings with barriers, and it uses a pictograph the resembles a cross between railroad tracks and a fence. I used that pictograph to show the differing track gauges used in Europe.

Crossbucks are are a ubiquitous part of rail systems, in the many places where trains converge with streets. Though most countries use a similar concept, the colors and proportions vary widely.

And just for fun, I made one more poster which shows the logos of the primary railroads in each country…

Anyway, the blog will likely be on temporary hiatus later next month as I’ll actually be riding some of these European rails.

All of today’s photos are from the new W Line, including some photos of two Art-n-Transit pieces. Over 900 application were received from artists looking to create something for the new rail line. Artworks were commissioned for each of the new stations, though a few have yet to be installed. Found at the Lakewood-Wadsworth Station is a glass sculpture titled “Rain and Sun” by artist John Rogers. Colored pieces of glass are suspended on wires, which reflect sunlight onto the platform in an array of colors.

 
Concept art for the art at Lakewood-Wadsworth Station

 
 
Installed kinetic glass sculpture by John Rogers found at Lakewood-Wadsworth Station.

A mosaic titled The Winds of Change can be seen in the photos of the new Garrison station, created by Mike Squared Mosaics. Mike Squared Mosaics are the works of two Colorado artists – Mike Cody and Mike Juarez. The duo fire their own custom made mosaic tiles, all of which are hand-cut. The 220 foot “mosaic mural” combines tile, glass, and even pottery in a colorful and somewhat abstract portrayal of the area’s natural history.

Concept art for the mosaic at Garrison station

   
 
 
Installed mosaic by Mike Squared Mosaics at Garrison station.

Besides the full commissioned artworks, you’ll notice that there are various pleasingly aesthetic elements found at the stations. Benches at several stations feature imagery of tall grasses on panels of layered glass. Other benches have cutouts that carry a similar theme. Concrete panels with stylized grass in relief can also be found in places along the line. All in all the new line turns out to be a nice ride, complete with nice views of downtown Denver’s skyline.