LOOK UP WHEN YOU WALK THROUGH the World Trade Center Oculus, and you can forgive almost everything: the $4 billion bill as the rest of the transit system starved, the skylight that was supposed to open but doesn't because the rubber seal ripped, the underperforming mall with its dumpy little kiosks selling dumpy little souvenirs. Enter that hall, and it does what Santiago Calatrava said it would. Your eye is drawn up the marble walls and the white ribs, and you are reminded of the nave of a great cathedral. You can experience, as a commuter, a moment's uplift.
Cast your eye downward, though, and you're back in busted-up New York.
The white slabs making up the floor of the concourse are chipped and flaked at the edges. Corners are broken, and thousands of scuffing soles have ground dirt into the rough spots, blackening them. Some slabs have been replaced, and they're whiter and shinier than the rest. The building opened only seven years ago, in March 2016, and the rest of it still looks crisp and new. The floor does not.
Grand Central Terminal just turned 110, and its Tennessee-marble floor is arguably in better shape.
I asked the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey about the replacement work, some of which I saw going on last year. Its representatives offered a statement: "Normal wear and tear of the Oculus floor is being addressed by systematically repairing and/or replacing damaged tiles," adding that work had stopped for the holidays and "will resume later this year." Calatrava's office declined to comment. Neither would talk in any detail about the beat-up floor.
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber ? Sign In
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Sign In
Trapped in Time
A woman relives the same day in a stunning Danish novel.
Polyphonic City
A SOFT, SHIMMERING beauty permeates the images of Mumbai that open Payal Kapadia's All We Imagine As Light. For all the nighttime bustle on display-the heave of people, the constant activity and chaos-Kapadia shoots with a flair for the illusory.
Lear at the Fountain of Youth
Kenneth Branagh's production is nipped, tucked, and facile.
A Belfast Lad Goes Home
After playing some iconic Americans, Anthony Boyle is a beloved IRA commander in a riveting new series about the Troubles.
The Pluck of the Irish
Artists from the Indiana-size island continue to dominate popular culture. Online, they've gained a rep as the \"good Europeans.\"
Houston's on Houston
The Corner Store is like an upscale chain for downtown scene-chasers.
A Brownstone That's Pink Inside
Artist Vivian Reiss's Murray Hill house of whimsy.
These Jeans Made Me Gay
The Citizens of Humanity Horseshoe pants complete my queer style.
Manic, STONED, Throttle, No Brakes
Less than six months after her Gagosian sölu show, the artist JAMIAN JULIANO-VILLAND lost her gallery and all her money and was preparing for an exhibition with two the biggest living American artists.
WHO EVER THOUGHT THAT BRIGHT PINK MEAT THAT LASTS FOR WEEKS WAS A GOOD IDEA?
Deli Meat Is Rotten