On a sprinkling, spring Sunday in New York City, we embarked on a journey to ask one simple yet revealing question: What is your favorite public space—and why? The answers, gathered from strangers in parks and friends in homes, formed a mosaic of memory, identity, culture, and longing. Bryant Park: A City’s Living Room The day began in Bryant Park, where we met a retired couple visiting from Kentucky. Though they had long since left New York due to the cost of living, they return each year to reconnect with the spaces that shaped their lives. “We come to see friends, the theater, the food,” they said. They remembered Bryant Park before its redesign—when it wasn’t yet the polished space it is now. They spoke of concerts, street magicians, public restrooms, and its unique buzz. The park, they said, is still their favorite. Their love for public space extends beyond Manhattan: Yellowstone in winter, going to Buffalo, NY in winter. Washington, D.C., where the Lincoln Memorial and cherry blossoms stirred emotions of history and national memory. Kentucky State Park lodges, quiet and rustic. For them, each place is layered with seasonal changes, gathering, and nostalgia. Nearby, a middle-aged Black man who had known Bryant Park since 1974 shared a different kind of memory. “This place was always alive,” he said. White folks didn’t get it. They said it was dangerous, but it wasn’t. It was cultural. He talked about watching the original Star Wars near the park, live concerts, the feeling of intimacy even in a crowd. “Then Disney came and changed the vibe,” he added, referring to the gentrification of public life around the Theatre District. “But we were here before all that.” Later, a young Brazilian woman holding a lot of shopping bags, told us how her American friends helped her find belonging. After learning English in Seattle and moving to Syracuse for school, she was introduced to Bryant Park—and through it, to New York. “It helped me connect,” she said. Her eyes lit up when she started talking about food festivals, and especially low-barrier opportunities to try ethnic dishes. She showed us a photo from Ilha de Tinharé in Bahia, Brazil: warm-lit streets, restaurants offering samples, carnival culture, beaches, and joy. “I miss that. I wish we had the food samples here.” Washington Square Park: Energy in All Its Forms At Washington Square Park, the rain intensified, but a defiant woman in her late 20s grinned as she described it: “Lots of weirdos—always.” And she meant it fondly. “Some days it just has a vibe.” She told us about a parking lot near Lewis in Port Washington, Long Island, where people gather for sunsets—ice cream, loud music, young people hanging out in cars. “The whole town comes out,” she said, describing it as one of those magical, informal spaces of youth and freedom. Then she transported us to Croatia, to a cluster of cliffs near Split. “We’d lay out blankets, 20 or 30 of us, and jump into the water. It was wild and beautiful.” In Washington Sq Park we met a homeless woman whose face was worn with scratches. She was dishevelled and a bit disoriented, but she still had a favorite place to share: she told us her favorite space is 34th Street. Of European, Afghan, and Cuban heritage, she described New York as “always moving.” To her, NYC city is in motion, especially places like 34th Street: busy, open, and real. Evening at the Kent Household: Legacy and New Generations That evening, we were invited into the home of Fred Kent and Kathy Madden. Over conversation with them, their son Ethan Kent, his wife, and their two young boys and TJ McGuire from Placemaking Canada, the question of favorite public space took on new dimension—philosophical, intergenerational, and personal. Fred, the founder of Project for Public Spaces, named Delray Beach in Florida. He quoted William H. Whyte and Lewis Mumford, shared ideas about how “creative people attract creative people,” and declared, “Forget the damn cars—make cities for lovers and friends.” Fred Kent recalled Borough Market in London—specifically for its food, especially “the best mussels,” as Fred noted. Ethan also mentioned the Medina in Marrakesh—a place of music, snakes, dance, color, and chaos: “Everything happening all at once.” Ethan’s older son, a teenager, named the pier park near their Brooklyn home. “We go there to play and get ice cream,” he said. His only complaint? “There’s no food truck or deli. That would kill!” When asked if girls were part of his crew, he replied, “No, usually just boys.” They play basketball and hang out. Their youngest son, a precocious tween, gave a simple answer to his favorite place: “Amsterdam.” When asked why, he shrugged: “I don’t know. I just like it. It’s cool.” We also spoke with TJ Mcguire from Placemaking Canada, who joined us for the gathering, offered up his favorite place -- the Plaza de Armas in Puerto Rico. A Day in Dialogue with Place From Bryant Park to Moroccan squares, Croatian cliffs to Brooklyn piers, and Brazilian beach towns to Long Island parking lots, these conversations wove together a rich story about how we remember and relate to space. All of them reminded us: public spaces are not just places—they are people, memories, culture, food, and motion. They are what connect us. Observations recorded on May 4, 2025 – Public Space Stories from New York City
Curated by Lili Razi and in conversation with Ryan Smolar
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May 2025
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