Meditations on The Old Bronx Courthouse
It wasn't the courthouse itself that was the payoff, per se, it was the entire trip up there that spanned a 4 Train to 125th Street, the 5 train to 146th Street, to find the service had been cancelled for repairs, and then the 2 train to 3rd Avenue and 149th Street, after which I walked through 94 degree heat until I finally found the old structure of the Bronx Courthouse.
Gutted and slowly being rebuilt as an artspace, what must have at one time been an absolutely gorgeous structure at the turn of the last century, it now held the exhibits and performance pieces that both stirred the mind and swept me away from the bricks of the raw basement walls and to the barbed wire camps of places I can only visit through these exhibits and within my own mind.
Green and neon flashes, low tunnels to crawl through, darkened rooms where only a slasher film would be made dropped me in the middle of my own mind, until I realized it was time to go, or risk passing out on the subway back home.
A mile walk, the 2 to the 5 to the 6 to Spring Street, and just a few more blocks until I was home again to scroll through the images I had taken and brought with me.
It was an wonderful adventure that took me out of my comfort zone and into a part of the city I rarely go, and that made it well worth the trip.
It was kind of reminiscent of the basement show up in DIA Beacon with a much shorter trip on the train, or subway as it were. And even then, it gave me time to contemplate what I had or did not have, what I had to be thankful for, as I looked into the mind of an artist.
Lessons learned, it is rarely the destination, but the journey, that makes it all worthwhile.