Uninhabited

I will argue in this paper that the correspondence between the idea of New York and the actual city of New York has grown increasingly tenuous. This idea of the City—the "City that never sleeps"—had until recently evolved simultaneously, in both the temporal and spatial sense of the word, with the eponymous city of stone, steel and cold cash. But today, this is no longer the case, and in fact, this mental aspect of New York appears in the process of detaching itself not only from the City in question, but also from the physical constraints and concerns of time and place.

What's more, this idea has become an entirely imaginary construct and no longer representative of anything but has become itself an autonomous entity—familiar but alien, comprehensible but abstract, populated but uninhabited—in a word, a "City Mediascape." I am using this term—City Mediascape—to suggest the simultaneous presence of a "second" New York. No longer functioning as a metaphor, but as a parallel virtual City, derived from, informed by, but independent of, the actual material and functioning metropolis.

I will further argue that because of the competition between New York City and the City Mediascape, it is no longer possible to experience New York directly through one's own senses, which is to say, free of the mediating/meddling influences of photography, cinema, television, and advertising.

The classic New York City fairy tale, Breakfast at Tiffany's, was shot not only in color but in TECHNOCOLOR®. However, if you ask someone if the film was shot in black & white, as I asked ten friends, they will likely pause before guessing correctly. One reason for their uncertainty is that many people first recall the much-reproduced publicity stills and these—in particular the iconographic shot of the archetypal gamine, Holly Golightly/Audrey Hepburn—were for the most part printed in black & white.

I would like to suggest that even if we knew for a fact that the film was shot in color and were also perfectly aware that the publicities stills were printed in black & white, we would still pause before answering. The reason for this disconnect is simply that we want this film to be black & white. A film set in the City, a film with City themes, is understood and experienced in black & white.

The marketing impresario Peter Arnell was the first advertising Creative Director to see, demonstrate and advocate the City Mediascape as a "brand." Photographers, as well as film and television producers, had for years profitably mined the City Mediascape, but before Arnell, advertisers saw the city only in terms of its most obvious images and symbols.

When a marketer, a TV producer, or a politician wants to create an authentic representation of the City, whether in a DKNY boutique in Bloomingdales or through the original title sequence of the television show Law & Order, that representation, regardless of the medium used, is executed in black & white.

The New York City we inhabit today is a "Mental Construction/Deconstruction Zone." But this is not new nor news, as this dialectic has always been crucial in appreciating New York. Ideas, symbols and images, as well as buildings and neighborhoods are constantly being razed, raised, and repurposed.

9/11 (along with globalization and the advent of the digital world), not only made clear the distinction between the actual City and the City Mediascape but may have also erased any correspondence the two would have in the future. Which is to say that while the City Mediascape will always be intact and autonomous, New York can now be read as mortal or as simply another module on a complex global network.

New York can only exist as New York—City and Mediascape aligned—and at the point it abdicates its sense of place, it will have run its course. Of course, the City has had a very good run.