The main branch of the New York Public Library had (still has?) a nice shiny brass system in the research room. You filled out a request on a little card and the librarian would put it into a metal canister and send it down to the stacks. I last used this in 1993 or so when I was a grad student in a literature department.
Then you would go to the big reading room and wait for your number to comeup on the big board. Some wonderful books there ( I remember getting a version of Vincente Huidobro's Altazor that looked like it had a dedication from the author.) And a beautiful old building to sit and read in.
The pnuematic tubes added a nice 'steampunk' feel to the experience (although that word didn't exist yet). I would have been reading William Gibson at the time I am sure though. I know that I read the "Difference Engine" about this time.
It is so remarkable how these systems still exist in the 'older' modernist cities. I say older in reference to NYC because of the fact that it hasn't gone through a war so the intfrastructure is quite a bit older than the larger European or Asian cities. It is different in other cities. When I was in Seoul I would frequently visit a market that was near one of the old city gates. A freestanding market a few thousand years old. That's old - there is nothing in NYC that can touch that. The old stuff in NYC is a few hundred years old at most.
In NYC, the subway is still switched by hand at some places. There is a steam heating system under the streets that, on cold days like this billows up and forms impromptu clouds. And the brass pnuematic tubing at the NYPL.
These systems - especially the older bridges, streets and the subways - are crumbling. And in some ways the "must have exposed brick in our apartment" nostalgia for an older verdegris patina-ed existence is a false desire for something that never ways.
But you can't help but marvel when crossing something like the Pulaski Skyway in New Jersey (think the Soprano's opening shots) or taking the subway under one of the river tunnels or walking up over the Brooklyn Bridge - that so much was possible with relatively little.
An idea that was beautifully expressed in some of the writing around the recent open-sourcing of the Apollo Lunar Module code from the first moon landing.
The main branch of the New York Public Library had (still has?) a nice shiny brass system in the research room. You filled out a request on a little card and the librarian would put it into a metal canister and send it down to the stacks. I last used this in 1993 or so when I was a grad student in a literature department.
Then you would go to the big reading room and wait for your number to comeup on the big board. Some wonderful books there ( I remember getting a version of Vincente Huidobro's Altazor that looked like it had a dedication from the author.) And a beautiful old building to sit and read in.
The pnuematic tubes added a nice 'steampunk' feel to the experience (although that word didn't exist yet). I would have been reading William Gibson at the time I am sure though. I know that I read the "Difference Engine" about this time.
It is so remarkable how these systems still exist in the 'older' modernist cities. I say older in reference to NYC because of the fact that it hasn't gone through a war so the intfrastructure is quite a bit older than the larger European or Asian cities. It is different in other cities. When I was in Seoul I would frequently visit a market that was near one of the old city gates. A freestanding market a few thousand years old. That's old - there is nothing in NYC that can touch that. The old stuff in NYC is a few hundred years old at most.
In NYC, the subway is still switched by hand at some places. There is a steam heating system under the streets that, on cold days like this billows up and forms impromptu clouds. And the brass pnuematic tubing at the NYPL.
These systems - especially the older bridges, streets and the subways - are crumbling. And in some ways the "must have exposed brick in our apartment" nostalgia for an older verdegris patina-ed existence is a false desire for something that never ways.
But you can't help but marvel when crossing something like the Pulaski Skyway in New Jersey (think the Soprano's opening shots) or taking the subway under one of the river tunnels or walking up over the Brooklyn Bridge - that so much was possible with relatively little.
An idea that was beautifully expressed in some of the writing around the recent open-sourcing of the Apollo Lunar Module code from the first moon landing.
http://atlasobscura.com/places/pneumatic-system-new-york-pub...