TITLE
CONTENTS
ABSTRACT
EPIGRAPH
INTRODUCTION
METHOD
(1) Pleasures(2) Opportunities(3) Loved Ones(4) Stress(5) Distress(6) RespiteDISCUSSION
APPENDIX
REFERENCES
Write us.
ILLUSTRATIONS(7) Ambivalence
When you're back in town
for a quick look around,
how is it?
Does it feel like home
or just a nice place
to visit?
-- David Frishberg (1981), "Do You Miss New
York?"
Finally, several informants combined aspects of the themes already addressed to emphasize the complex juxtapositions of experiences that give rise to an overall feeling of ambivalence toward the City. In these self-reflections, the good meets the bad; the natural combines with the artificial; the exciting contrasts with the enervating; the spiritual emerges from the secular; the vulgar clashes with the noble. In short, attempts to capture these kinds of ambivalence produced some of the most evocative self-reflections in both pictures and prose. Here, at least four sub-categories of ambivalence surfaced, involving aspects of (a) order versus chaos; (b) the old versus the new; (c) wealth versus poverty; and (d) the natural versus the artificial.
(a) Order Versus Chaos. First, one informant explicitly emphasized a juxtaposition between two forces frequently noted in the other vignettes. Specifically, she stressed the ambivalent way in which New Yorkers may react to the contradictory forces of order and chaos that compete for dominion over the City. Thus, she pinpointed Grand Central Station as the locus where her "unhurried, calm suburban lifestyle" suddenly changes to a world that she finds "chaotic, frenetic and infinitely interesting":
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"Grand Central Station and Commuter Culture." The scene takes place near the information booth at Grand Central Station during rush hour. It represents my New York in that it is the meeting point of my two lives. It is the point where the unhurried, calm suburban lifestyle suddenly changes gear and becomes quintessentially New York -- chaotic, frenetic and infinitely interesting. There is nothing more fun than sitting at the mezzanine bar (now temporarily closed for renovation) overlooking the information booth and watching the pace and flow of activity below. Metro North commuters are a peculiar subculture. We usually ride the same train every morning; the traders ride the 5:53 or the 6:25, the nine to fivers the 8:14, and the rest of us ride the 7:22 or the 7:48. We always stand at the same spot on the platform. Clumps of commuters huddle at two yard intervals, positioning themselves in front of where they know the train doors will open. We know most everyone at our clump, but are rarely greeted by someone from the next clump over, even though they might have seen us every day for seven years. There's a strange loyalty within clumps, and severe penalties for cross-clumping. Once in the train, there are well-defined acceptable modes of behavior. During the morning rush you may only read the New York Times, the Journal or the Financial Times. Never the Post. That is reserved for the evening rush, when the nerves are understandably frazzled and benumbed. Talking is allowed and encouraged on the platform, but never once you enter the train. Sadly, cell phones and laptops, once a no-no, are now becoming acceptable. Avoid the seats in front of the restrooms, and across from the bridge players. The bar cars begin at 4:59 p.m. |
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(b) Old Versus New. Second, the theme of old versus new appeared in one informant's juxtaposition of Trinity Church with the World Trade Center(PHOTO 7A):
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My picture is of the Trinity Church in the foreground with a tower of the World Trade Center in the background. There's a street sign saying "No Standing" in front of the church. This picture exemplifies the juxtaposition between old and new in the city. It speaks to me because I am from Miami, which is only 100 years old. It fascinates me to see these magnificent old structures, places, and traditions which are everywhere in Manhattan. This city represents a place which lives on long after the inhabitants leave. There's a continuity in chaos in New York. The sign represents the energy and movement inherent in Manhattan. The sign shows the hustle and bustle of the city, which distinguishes it from anywhere else I've ever been. 
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| A similar old-versus-new theme also surfaced in the reflections of another informant on the breakdown between original promise and current reality as found in some of the ethnic neighborhoods visible from a perch atop Morningside Heights near Columbia University (PHOTO 7B): |
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My photos are taken from Morningside Drive looking down across Harlem with the Triboro Bridge barely visible in the background. The main point is the ambivalence I feel about N.Y. On the one hand I love the city & wouldn't live anywhere else. On the other N.Y. is so much less than it has been in the past or could be. A beautiful park like Morningside is virtually unusual [unusable?]. A huge area like Harlem is minutes from Midtown, yet no professionals who work there can live in it. The Triboro Bridge, & the others, connect Manhattan to the outer boroughs & the ethnic neighborhoods people first moved to, to escape NY but still be in it. In my lifetime, people now escape those neighborhoods (like the one I was born in) to the suburbs proper again not willing to live in NY but not wanting to leave it.
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(c) Wealth Versus Poverty. Third, at least two informants gave considerable weight to the pervasive contrasts between the extremes of wealth and poverty found in the New York City streets. One visitor from Asia mentioned a profound discrepancy between the splendor of Carnegie Hall and the destitute homeless man who politely panhandles with his colorful stack of paper cups at the subway entrance outside (PHOTO 7C):
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He shows up every morning, even on a cold day, in front of the entrance to the 57th street station of [the] N and R line, at the corner of Carnegie Hall. He says "good morning" gently, warmly, and calmly to everybody who rushes into or from the station even though almost none of them returns his good morning. He never walks around while people are passing by in a hurry. He never begs. Instead, he holds piled up paper cups. Less than one out of ten people put coins in the top cup. But his piled up cups put smiles on passers-by's faces. Some people stop at him, and talk to him, and vendors give him coffee and bagels. He gives them his smile in return. He is ... homeless, but the place he exists is his home. In the night of the same day, there are many dressed up people who enjoy a show at the Carnegie Hall, just next to his home. All the contrasts surrounding him make me feel New York.
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| Another informant compared the luxurious windows and opulently dressed women on Fifth Avenue with beggars on the steps of St. Patrick's Cathedral. For her photograph, quite creatively, she expressed this study in contrasts by means of a montage in which she physically assembled some of the symbolic material referred to parenthetically in her vignette (PHOTO 7D): |
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New York is a city of ambivalence where the best meets the worst. It is a city of contrasts where wealth clashes with poverty. ($ bill & trash can). You might find yourself walking down 5th Ave. in midtown Manhattan surrounded by luxurious windows and women in mink coats. Amidst all of the opulence, a homeless person with AIDS and a trash bag filled with recycled cans will beg for money on the walks of St. Patrick's Cathedral. New York is a city that pulses, without any interruption, that overflows with information (Sunday NYT), that is exciting, dynamic and exhilarating. At the same time, it is chaotic, overly crowded, filthy, cold and harsh. It is a city that breathes individuality and freedom where individuals fight for their rights, oftentimes abusing the legal system (scale). It is a city where individuals come to seek fortune and better opportunities. Yet, so many fail to realize their "American Dream" because they lack the right credentials, financial means or political connections. New York is a city that I have grown to love and hate at the same time. It is a city where I sometimes feel I'm suffocating, it's skyscrapers and throngs of people suck me in. There is no room to breathe and only scarce nature to play in (BBQ, beer, & chips for picnics) and seek refuge. Yet, it is a fun place to live in, with great ethnic diversity and cultural events. What I like most about NY is its spirit of individuality. You can ride the subway wearing sandals in winter and not feel that people are really judging you. In fact, they're indifferent to your presence. This might be different in Paris or Tokyo. (Words is parentheses appear on picture taken.)
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(d) Natural Versus Artificial. A fourth thematic contrast juxtaposes the forces of nature with those of artificial human constructions. Thus, in taking his magical morning stroll through the human-made terrain of Central Park, one Latino informant found "spiritual" flowers growing amidst the "hostile granite" of a rock formation(PHOTO 7E):
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I have chosen this scene that I found accidentally, as all NY's little miracles. This particular one appeared while I was walking in the morning through Central Park South. These young, almost humble but strongly alive flowers growing in the very middle of the brute, powerful and hostile granite, depict wonderfully the essence of New York City in the end of the 20th C. New York City is a place characterized for its high contrasts: cruel and generous, materialistic and spiritual, mechanic and original, hostile and comfortable. These extremes are the very features of humanity, and -- in a broader sense -- of life itself. This is the real marvel or magic of NYC: to comprehend -- as any other place in world history -- with such an intensity and diversity this phenomenon. And in this rich and dynamic environment there are simple miracles almost all over the place: behind the fastness [sic] of the people, the dirt of the subway, or the arrogance of the streets. Thus, the trick is to see and listen [to] the city without pretensions, that is far away from the powerful and alienated cliches that are permanently threatening our joy of this wonderful and unique city.
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| On a more panoramic scale, another informant juxtaposed the natural "trees and grass" of Central Park with the artificial "imposing skyscrapers" in the distance. His wide-angled stereograph -- a view of someone else observing the scene -- conveys a deep feeling for the contrasts inherent in this vista (PHOTO 7F): |
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Photograph: "Woman in Park Observing Skyline." For me, New York is a constant reminder of the complex relationship between humans and nature. The view that the woman in this picture is experiencing is my favorite view of New York. It underscores and encourages reflection on the nature of this relationship. In the park (nature), we find solace from the hustle and bustle of the human-made world, yet, as we see in the picture, the park provides an elegant frame for what appears to be a beautiful and tranquil skyline (human-made world). The fence on which the woman leans is an ironic reminder that, even in nature, humankind seeks to impose its own form of order. When I experience this view, I often have difficulty deciding which scenery is more wonderful: the trees and grass or the imposing skyscrapers. Then I remember that the trees and grass are intended to be a refuge from that human construction. For me, this is a stark example of co-existence, which is the best term I can think of to describe New York.
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