Introducing: The Subway-Color-Archive
A Brief Overview (so far)
I will keep this first post short, just the necessary groundwork to contextualize the months ahead. Keeping a public-oriented project secluded feels counterintuitive, especially with the recent reception and energy built around this exploration. I keep voice notes and a sketchbook. My phone storage is almost full nearly all the time, all in hopes of keeping track of the many thoughts and considerations that arise daily. Strangely, as this digital text manifests, it reflects the general spirit of pursuing this physical investigation. NYC is a beautiful and messy city where ephemerality thrives, and pendulums perpetually swing between “clean” / “dirty” and (dis)organized… In attempts to oscillate towards a bit of order, I hope to round out, or begin, each month with a roundup of some project updates, revelations, and questions. I am not an expert in everything, just obsessive; feel free to make suggestions and forward references.
From September 2023 to August 2024, the Subway-Color-Archive (S-C-A) aims to chronicle and explore the long-standing chromatic and sensory-based elements of MTA platforms along the IND 8th Avenue Subway line. The color history of a station is a salad of elements, some fixed, some dynamic. The platforms between 207th St. and Jay St. Metrotech have nearly a century of layered color history ready to be dissected and revisited.
This archive is an ever-moving and evolving capsule about change. It will pursue accessible and tactile forms of color + chroma reconstruction, supplemented by interviews, events, and surveys, leading to the creation of archive-inspired print memorabilia that will be shared with the public**. Semi-mundane elements experienced repeatedly imprint on many minds; until brought to the forefront, it is hard to contextualize how common our sensitivities are. The S-C-A hopes to continually resurface the importance of the most ordinary elements of our bustling city, which can be fascinating and influential to its future development. ¹
The path to pursue this investigation surfaced in the Spring of 2020 when I was fortunate enough to enroll in a grad school seminar called The Polychromatic Reconstruction of Architecture. The opportunity to bring, unpack, and discuss my NYC upbringing in that setting was invaluable. I am indebted to the voices that made “Wet Paint: A Study of Subway Columns” what it is today. For a quick round-up of my thoughts on that preliminary manifestation of the S-C-A, see A Layered History: Interview with Mari Kroin.
The repainting of platform columns speaks to persistent maintenance incited by movement. The collection and documentation of column paint chips remain at the core of each S-C-A station survey. However, this is an opportunity to collect at a larger capacity. The columns of the “Wet Paint” project exposed a portal of color that we can analyze through a myriad of lenses; the ground, ceiling, and station-specific built-ins potentially provide comparable thresholds to study. Talks with New York residents recall nostalgia for the orange of cut mangoes sold from a folding cart, the dust embedded on the Chambers J/Z, and current/past station-specific art (just a few of many things.)
The Memory Portal
In the preliminary walkthrough survey of the 34th Street A, C, E platforms, I was reminded of a CBS news segment called “Keith Haring was here” and got weirdly emotional; I still feel the presence of our overlapping existence.² While now mostly retiled and repainted, the station walls once exhibited his work in its proper context; now only possible perhaps as a vinyl subway ad or digital poster advertising an exploited reprint of his work. There are still so many people today who remember the original chalk drawings; it’s memories like these that the archive hopes to collect for future reference and safekeeping.
In attempts to open a (preliminary) portal for memory and elements of nostalgia, the subway-color-archive.com asks visitors, “What is your favorite subway station?” a callback to Ziwe Fumudoh’s interview with former mayoral candidate Andrew Yang. However, the website survey submissions encompass many parts of NYC subway nostalgia. Memories contributed so far reflect bits and parts of this massive system; a testament to how it impacts sensory-based memory in many ways.
In middle school, on the downtown 6 train, the train was always “being held by the dispatcher” and we always wondered what that meant. My friend Chris used to joke that the dispatcher was holding the train to hand out rainbow cupcakes to everyone in the first car and that we should move up. Seeing a man openly masturbate on the R train on the way to high school. Carrying my cello to high school and having to lean over 90 degrees so my cello would fit up over the turnstile. ‘swipe card again at this turnstile’ ” — David, subway-color-archive.com
“Returning home on snowy days, my friends and I would leap out at each above-ground F stop to scoop up some snow and bring it into the train. We’d try to construct little snowmen on the seats, but they melted too quickly. (Tangentially: I always liked the red-orange-yellow seats in the F-line trains. They remind me of Starburst candy.)” — E.K., subway-color-archive.com
I also get a little emotional reading these submissions. Please keep them coming! Non-text contributions (audio, video, photo) also are welcome.
Next Steps
“Wet Paint” explored chromatic progression through physical maquettes. These were constructive for a single station but potentially redundant with a broader range examined and considered. (Physical models will emerge as tools of research in other capacities.) Embracing the character of color charts and mailable material, exploring printable forms of color swatch creation feels instinctive. Preliminary ideas include tactilely varied color indexes, chromatic wheels with superimposed (or underlaid) transcribed history, and fordite-like chroma-recreations for future reference.
The ambition of disseminating a tangible object is the outlook that these will be stumbled upon and shared, opening half-open or forgotten doors to NYC nostalgia, a reminder that what already exists can be substantial. Such attention is critical in times rife with developer-driven projects, smooth edges, and glass facades. Not everything needs to be new.
**To receive the S-C-A 8th Avenue print memorabilia mailer in August 2024, send your contact information to subway.color.archive@gmail.com (Your info will not be distributed.) If you support the archive with a newsstand order, you automatically sign up for the 2023–24 mailer.
I will follow up with some additional thoughts at the end of December, including a review of station surveying and overlaying found historical imagery on current conditions.
Thank you (so far!)
The 2023–24 route is supported by the 2023 Architecture + Design Independent Projects program, a grant partnership of the New York State Council on the Arts and The Architectural League of New York. Independent Project grants are made possible with public funds from the New York State Council on the Arts, with the support of the Office of the Governor and the New York State legislature — a huge thank you to the panelists who undoubtedly put enormous effort into this process.
Considering the 1-year timeline, focusing on one avenue line will allow for greater attention per station. A study of 8th Avenue will hopefully build the framework for future chroma investigations that branch into other boroughs and neighborhoods — pending future funding.
This project is not monitored by or affiliated with the MTA.
¹I’ve been reading The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference by Malcolm Gladwell. In the “Power of Context (Part One),” he discusses policing in the MTA and the ripple effects of decisions made in the 1980s. The Vandal Squad/counter graffiti, city leadership (David Gunn), and fare beating are explicitly discussed. I’m sure The Tipping Point will surface a few times when describing the importance of existing and former conditions, the impact of (non)maintenance, and how something seemingly ordinary can be the force that causes a path to deviate from the expected… this might be an entire post in itself.
² This is the third month of the grant period. I am almost halfway through the preliminary station surveys and am consistently reminded that maintenance is necessary for a moving system. This means, at times, order (not to be confused with organization) must be enforced, and creative acts are covered or misconstrued — a kind of cat-and-mouse dynamic. I found myself in an unexpected moment yesterday looking at a book called “Subway Art” by Henry Chalfant and Martha Cooper juxtaposed next to “Vandal Squad: inside the new york city transit police department, 1984–2004” by Joseph Rivera. Looking at them side-by-side reveals a fascinating reflection of human perception; both publications are valid perspectives of a shared time and space and a reminder to source voices of potentially varied beliefs.
