Kate's Second Derive
March 20, 2018, by Kate
I headed out on my second derive on a sunny Sunday afternoon. My starting point pushed me even further downtown than I usually go—the Financial District. With little restaurants, shops, and events happening down there, I tend to stay in my bubble between 14th street and SoHo. Even venturing past Canal Street seems like a trek, and an area that isn’t necessarily the nicest to be in. Spruce Street, my starting point, was cold and dark. I began to think more about why I never came down into this space, and this cramped, eerie feeling was exactly why. The few times I’ve made it down into the Financial District, it has felt like a ghost town—somewhat of a contradiction or anomaly to living in one of the world’s largest cities.
I started out the derive walking up to City Hall, as I looked over to see the Brooklyn Bridge and throngs of people crowding its sidewalk. City Hall Park was completely empty and quiet, the concrete covered with pigeons and trash. Even though there were cars beeping past us and tourists lined up to snap a photo of the Brooklyn Bridge, it was eerily quiet. This part of town seems to shut down on the weekends, when those business men and women are at home instead of in their offices. The buildings themselves are tall and monochromatic, not necessarily beautiful but efficient in space. Sante even highlights that the purpose of streets was “not to lead anywhere in particular, so much as to house the maximum of cubic bulk along both sides” (Sante 46). As I moved uptown, I noticed that the streets grew somewhat wider and more light was able to peer into the space. The street also became more organized and geometrical, less curvy and confusing. It felt easier to navigate this grid as I walked uptown, headed on Lafayette.
On Lafayette, I soon passed the Family Court for New York County—something that immediately rang a bell. One of my previous psychoanalysis professors briefly mentioned this building in class one day, as he highlighted its ominous and sad demeanor. The entire space around it was covered in shadows, as the tall buildings blocked the sunlight out, and across the street was a lonely park with a single pool. I wondered what the entirety of the Financial District looked like before it actually became FiDi, before it was filled with offices, and when it was the most expensive part of the city to live in. That’s clearly taken a shift, as people have continued to move north, and only leave their business offices behind.
As I headed up Lafayette, the Derive app had me move onto Broadway. These two streets were somewhat quiet until I reached Canal Street. Insanely loud with cars beeping and people screaming, Canal street was a quick wake up call. I never thought about how two blocks could make such an atmospheric difference, but entering Canal was a wake up call. I was immediately pushed into crowds and had to fight my way onto the sidewalk. Like I noticed on my first derive, streets definitely act as barriers to noise and enclose sound in ways that I’d never realized. The area itself was filled with cheap knock off items and the occasional NYU student on his or her way to Lafayette. However, I soon passed by the Glossier Showroom and the age demographic immediately changed. At least 10 young girls were standing outside the door, screaming and yelling about the makeup products they just bought. I think this is a super interesting location for such a brand to place their flagship store, as the space itself doesn’t interact with the community at large. Each general neighborhood has a distinct vibe, due to the buildings and infrastructure around it. Ironically enough, the derive app had me follow a shopper and off I was in the direction of SoHo.
As I turned onto Lafayette Street, things began to quiet down again. Once I hit Broome Street, the area felt at once more familiar and lively, filled with crowds of people and their shopping bags hitting me in the shoulder. The cobblestones stood out in my mind, once again reminding me of how loud it must have been to have had horses on cobblestones 24/7 back in New York’s past and life before cement. Sante once again highlights the huge improvement of cement to city life, sharing that “it was first laid on Broadway adjacent to City Hall, and gradually came to cover the rest of that thoroughfare” (Sante 47). Even though cement replaced cobblestones as it slowly moved uptown, SoHo is still filled with them. While walking along Prince and Broome, acknowledging the expensive real estate and piles of consumers, I had to acknowledge the importance of the cobblestone itself. It was an aesthetic choice, a rustic choice, and something that separates SoHo from other neighborhoods. It’s seen as trendy and a photo background, completely devoid of meaning that it had years ago.
Walking up Broadway near the end of the derive, I realized the entirely new feeling of this larger street. Although it was wider, it was the central spine of the city as we noted in class. All of the huge department stores and more accessible shops were located on it, while the smaller boutiques and upscale stores were pulled off to the side. It seemed as if Broadway was physically more accessible to tourists and their wallets. The derive app told me to look for some shade, and I stepped off into Prince Street. The tall buildings created a vast blanket of shade, as I grabbed a coffee from Dig Inn and headed out. While I noted sound barriers between Delancey and Houston on my last derive, I noticed something similar between Broadway and Lafayette. They seemed to hold SoHo together, providing it with a stronger structure and flow of people. I finally ended up on Houston, back in the midst of running people and cars flying in both directions. What started out as a quiet stroll ended up as a fast paced walk and with only an hour in between both locations.