As The High Line turns 10, we take a walk down the iconic park and ponder the possibilities
The city of New York has been abuzz about the recent facelift of the Hudson Yards district, with the mysterious and massive Vessel installation at its centre. Designed by London-based Thomas Heatherwick, it is a climbable and interactive monument that was opened to the public this March. Another landmark in the same neighbourhood has quietly reached a significant anniversary: It is ten years since The High Line was opened to the public. In this past decade, the park has become a hot favourite among both residents and visitors to the city that boasts the likes of Central Park and Brooklyn Botanical Gardens.
On a spring morning, I met up with Mary Hannah of Urban Adventures for a walking tour of The High Line that welcomes 8 million visitors every year. What started off as a gentle breeze from the Hudson river nearby, turned into a frosty gale by the time we climbed up the steps. After all, the park is 30 feet above the ground, and seemed to have its own weather patterns.
Although it was early morning, there were groups of tourists all along its 1.45-mile length, taking selfies and photographs in front of wildflowers growing in gay abandon and the cheery art pop-ups along the sides. The latter is part of High Line Art, the public art programme that commissions artwork and installations based on specific themes that change frequently and are aimed at sparking debate.
When I visited, the En Plein Air project had just been commissioned and a range of paintings by international artists greeted us. The project is a nod to the French method of painting outdoors (“in the open air”) that sets the main image within the larger context of nature. Further down the track was ‘I Lift My Lamp Beside the Golden Door’ by Dorothy Iannone, an American artist now living in Berlin. Supremely relevant to these times, the mural shows three colourful versions of the Statue of Liberty, with the words running between them, the final line from ‘The New Colossus’, Emma Lazarus’s poem about how America is the promised land for immigrants; the evocative lines immortalised in bronze on the original statue.
Down below, New York carried on as usual, with traffic on the streets and coffee shops doing brisk business. But none of that noise or frenzy touched the mood up at the park; it was a cocoon, a quiet haven in the middle of the urban chaos.
The High Line is one of a handful of elevated green spaces across the world, created out of an abandoned railway line that transported goods to and from the Meatpacking District from the 1930s onwards for a few decades. It had to be raised to such a height because of the frequent accidents on the road that was initially used by horse carriages, motor cars and trains. Things got so bad that 10th Avenue began to be called Death Avenue, and a man rode on a horse—the Westside Cowboy, as he was known—in front of the trains, waving a red flag to warn pedestrians and other vehicles.