The moment one gives close attention to anything, it becomes a mysterious,
awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.
Henry Miller
Manhattan was cold and drizzling with rain on Wednesday, December 7th. Regardless of the weather’s public nuisance, many people on 14th street were riding along the street around 10 am in the morning. I traveled among them on L subway, from 1st avenue to 8th, and came back eastbound to Avenue C on bus 14 A. In my hand were one subway map and a bus map that showed two buses, 14A and 14D, and L subway crossing 14th street of Manhattan. The 14 A/D buses are marked by one single yellow-green line, with arrows to show the direction of the bus route. The L train’s route is marked by a gray line that horizontally connects two white dots and three black dots along the 14th street. The two routes fit in to the crème color, gridded landscape of New York City. Although MTA maps give a clear direction of the two transportations, they omit any description of the relationship between New York City, transportations, and our bodies, such as crowdedness and movement of bodies in transportation. They limit our complete view of transportation experience and try to lead our movement rather than guide it. Such oversimplified and coerced presentation of map distracts us from
taking interest and engaging with our space.

MTA Bus Map showing 14A and 14D
|
| as a yellow green line crossing the 14th street. |
MTA Subway map showing L subway as a gray line crossing the14th street.
George Perec says the following from his essay, “Species of Spaces and Other Pieces”: “We ought to ask ourselves where exactly we are, to take our bearings, not only concerning our state of mind, […] but simply concerning our topographical position, not so much in relation to the axes cited above, but rather in relation to a place […].” (Perec 83) We do not consider space as a part of our present. We are here, but we do not acknowledge it, thinking it is obvious that we know where we are. But do we? For instance, how about in transportations? The new map I am presenting allows our bodily experience to fully engage in the process of reaching our destination. Using Corner’s mapping process of de-territorialization and re-territorialization from “The Agency of Mapping”, I am drawing out the crowd’s movement and our active senses in transportation to reassemble the interior map of 14A and D buses and L subway. The topography relating our individual body, the crowd’s movement, and transportation will make us more aware of where our body is in relation to the place and value of our current space.
De Certeau defines the idea of “walkers” as the city wanderers who use their bodies to "write" their experience of the city. The walkers’ writing creates "paths that correspond in this intertwining, unrecognized poems in which each body is an element signed by many others, elude legibility" (De Certeau 158). Walkers create their own writing, and different writings connect one place to another. The overlapping of writings creates richness to the spatial expansion. De Certeau stated that the walkers’ writing is illegible due to their individualized path, but while the walkers are on public transportation, their poems are condensed in one cohesive manner that creates a unified statement. The walkers are also divided into two types: bus riders and subway riders. This categorization does not only signify the type of transportation they are riding, but also their origin, destination, and time allotment. For instance, 14A and 14D buses group the local travelers who need the frequent stops along the street, and L train groups the inter-city travelers who come to New York from Brooklyn and Queens. Both bus and subway groups travel in a linear fashion, one above ground and the other underground, within the gridded map of 14th street.
At bus stops and on subway platforms, we see a patterned dispersion as well. On December 7th, Wednesday morning, I stand inside the transparent bus station located on Avenue C. Until the bus comes, I am not allowed to leave my spot. I walk a few steps inside the shelter, making ellipses with my footstep. When the bus arrives, I swipe my metro card and get on the one-passenger-entry door. The bus takes in whoever came to the stop first, one by one. We make eye contact with the bus driver.
Few minutes before standing at the bus stop, I am at Lorimer station, on the way to Manhattan. The massive crowd squashes themselves into the narrow space of the platform. In there, I am in a one-directional world where I just go forward. The crowd keeps walking without a glance, sweeping down. They are advancing fast but the crowd is not fast enough for them. I cannot possibly get off the forceful stream, the moving walkway.
In a subway station, the riders have to expand. The crowd starts from dots down the platform, unevenly spacing out between each other, leaving ample room for personal space. As more crowds come in, they fill in the space between the dots and extend the dots into a line. After the complete formation of a line, another line forms another set of dots. If each crowd were to be divided into first, second, and third groups and have their own colors, the aerial view of the crowd would form a seemingly unsystematic pattern that is a uniform distribution, an arrangement of order made by the prior ones who came to platform. People follow this absurd distribution as though they know how it works. Later I find out this order allows chronological entry to the subway car. The mass hurriedly disperses into the machine. The subway population is now spread to clumped distribution. The benches, especially the ones on the side and middle, are the most popular spots. Then it’s the bars. More than two riders claim the bar and grab it, never letting go until they reach their destination or find a seat. From the platform to subway, this distribution in small space is what every subway rider must become accustomed to. In the restricted space of bus stops, bus entrances, platforms, and subways, we learn the order of crowd. The pattern of the crowds creates an unspoken rule of bodily movement in transportation.
The two transportations’ compact and closed system requires more attention to our visual perception and auditory senses. This is another undeclared rule in using transportation. In general, the bus requires more attention to the visual aspect of the street. They recognize the bus route by landscape picture. They are more or less factual but truthful about the knowledge of 14th street. They are more factual because they know the distance it takes to get to this precise intersection and they are experiencing the visual aspect of the city, which is lacking in the subway. However, they might be less factual in knowing the exact names of the streets or the number of crowds coming at this certain time, because the bus parts the crowd into smaller groups by its frequent and dispersed stops.
The subway riders are more attuned to the sound than anything else. The sound of the train leaving, stopping, the announcement for next stops… especially when it’s crowded and you can’t see the platforms passing by, all your senses focus to auditory aspects. We depend solely on the metal container to transport us, allowing it to take full control. The subway riders are indifferent about such authoritative decisions, because once you are used to the pattern of sound, your body moves on its own. It knows where your stop is, after the third long sigh of the train at this moment. Without even registering your movement to your brain, your feet lead you out of the metal container, walking out unconsciously in what is a pre-destined routine.
The expansion of the crowd is centered toward the Union Square. For buses, the crowd begins to build from the far end of the street- avenue C and avenue 10th. The far ends are where it’s most crowded, regardless of the bus’s direction. The number of bus riders is quite consistent until we reach near Union Square. I observe most people getting off on that stop. On the L subway, from 1st avenue, the stops are not far from each other and the avenue numbers only increase. On 3rd and 6th avenue, no one from my section gets off. 4/5 of the mass gets off at Union Square, and the rest gets off on 8th avenue.
Union Square is one major stop where the subway riders and the bus riders meet. Other than that stop, the two riders have no relationship to one another, although they share the same bus route. The two transportations on the map may seem as though they overlap, but in actuality are separate layers that disconnect the riders.
The new map is dealt with a more present location based factors: the space on the stations and in transportations, the actual bodies that travel, the connection with our senses and the transportation. Perec asks us to observe the surroundings “…until the scene becomes improbable. Until you have the impression, for the briefest of moments, that you are in a strange town or, better still, until you can no longer understand what is happening or is not happening […]” (Perec, 53). The internal mapping of subways and buses creates a new space for us to live in. In the stream of the rush and the passive surroundings, I broke down our body's use of space, and discovered that the transportation restricts the body by limiting our bodily senses and space in the process of expansion.
References and Citations
Perec, Georges. Species of Spaces and Other Pieces. London: Penguin, 2008. Print.
Corner, James. The Agency of Mapping: Speculation, Critique and
Invention. London: Reaktion, 2002. Print.
De Certeau, Michel. “Walking in the City” The Practice of Everyday Life: 157-163 University of Califormia Press, 1988. Print.