Borough Hall Faience

The tile work in the Borough Hall station is a  celebration of the subway's arrival into Brooklyn (January 9th, 1908) just 10 years after Brooklyn joined New York City.   Grand, bas relief wreaths set into deep mosiac freize frame the BH monogram.  Above the monogram a green egg and dart moulding caps the wall. The large intricate name panels hang like tapestries and are almost identical to the ones found in Times Square.

The medallions themselves were produced by Grueby Pottery out of South Boston.  Grueby is the most collectible and desirable of American potteries, and for that reason difficult to find, with the exception of the NYC subway stations Astor Place, Bleeker Street, 28th Street, Columbus Circle, and many of the stations along the Lexington Ave Line.  One can also find Grueby tiles on the crossing floor at the Catherdral of St John the Devine on Amsterdam Ave, installed around 1910.

Grueby first introduced his matte green glaze in 1897 which quickly became a symbol of the Arts and Crafts movement and garnered world wide acclaim.  It was sold throughout the United States and Europe by Gustav Stickley, Tiffany & Co., and Marshall Fields.  Today it still remains the most sought after pottery from the Arts and Crafts period.

 

Borough Hall Suicide

In the film "Scent of a Woman." when Al Pacino's character, Col Slade, decides it's time, he checks into the Waldorf Astoria, hires the best call girl in town, drives a Ferrari, then as the moment approaches, dons his dress blues, has one last scotch, and while sitting in his obscenely expensive, and impeccably decorated suite, pulls out his .45. Not a bad way to go. In fact, I'm sure I could find a handful of volunteers on the Monday morning subway that would jump at the chance (no pun intended) to spend their last week on Earth exactly how Pacino's character planned to spend his. The reality is that suicide is rarely this well planned, or done with as much style.

On March 23, 2009, at Borough Hall station, approximately noon, just when many of us were thinking about lunch, a man in his 30s threw himself into the path of a Manhattan bound 4 train. Earlier the same day the scene was repeated in Queens. Of all the ways a person can commit suicide, why choose this way? What is it about the NYC subway that encourages people to jump in front of trains? How much does the interior of a space influence, if at all, the human behavior that takes place in that space?

In the end, Col Slade was talked down by Chris O'Donnell, but it does make me wonder what would have happened if Pacino's character had poorer planning, and as the decision drew near, found himself staggering across a subway platform, instead of sitting in a suite at the Waldorf. Could any appeal have been heard among the scurrying rats and screeching brakes?