The Highline
To me, the most interesting part to notice about the Highline is how the space switches back and force from interior to exterior, to be more precise, how they are blended together. The impression firstly came from the segment of the highline where buildings so closely surrounded it. I could see the sky, I knew it was outdoor, but I could not see the view far from here for it is blocked by the tall buildings. Walking further on the highland, there was the other segment that was halfway closed with a wooden ceiling and walls on the two sides, almost like a tunnel. Sun light was coming from behind and in front of me, but there were light bulbs all over the ceiling that brighten the “interior” space. It is a weird feeling to see light bulbs on and sunlight at the same time, for with the comparison to the sun the light bulbs seem to be dimmer than usual and not functional, yet the tunnel would have been actually so dark without them. The windows that connect the inner space to the view of the coach are also interestingly designed. More interesting were the windows carved in the wall that sits in the middle of the space but does not totally separate it into two rooms. Without knowing the initial purpose of this space, the openings “meaninglessly” connect the air of one side to the other side, as if functioning as viewfinders or nice structures for hide-and-seek. It also reminds me of the traditional gardens in China where windows would be carved on the walls of a long hallway, subtly and gently separating the space in and out while all remains connected and accessible.
Another interesting play with the sense of space comes in when you walk on the lifted “ground”, and see segments of the railway. Immediately my mind was alarming myself to watch out. But the trains are gone and flowers and trees are growing around the rails; sculptures are blocking the way of the coming train.
As always, the experience of an artwork or design is partly determined by the creator and partly left to nature and accidence, the certain time you visit it and how everything is going on around it. When you focus more in the highline itself you see more of the planned structures. As the highline allows you to look over to the other views, the experience expands towards no boundaries: beneath your feet there is something under construction; in the buildings people are running around working for other people; the weather is specific, and this time you cannot see the Statue of Liberty; there is a boyfriend present and he is being naughty and distracting you from the professor; etc. And this is what I really like about artworks that dissolve into our reality. What matters is not just the artwork itself, or, in other words, without perspectives the pieces would not exist; honestly what you remember is the experience particularly made for you, and there does not need to be a separation between the information you get about the art itself and the things you remember yourself associating with, however far it is from what seems to be “relevant”.