JPG Magazine: Stories: Photo Essay: New York Central Power Plant

New York Central Power Plant

By Branko Balić

27 June 2007

Fifteen miles north of Midtown Manhattan, on the edge of the eastern bank of the Hudson River, sits the abandoned New York Central Power Station. Construction on the plant began in 1901. In 1906 two massive steam turbines began converting coal fire into invisible electricity. This powered the Hudson Rail Line from NYC up to Albany. For a while it also provided electricity for the city of Yonkers.

In 1936 the plant was sold to Consolidated Edison and continued service, until going on standby in the 1950's and finally shutting down completely in the 1960's. The site has sat idle and abandoned since then. The steam turbines, machinery, and everything of value has long since been removed. Well, that depends on what you consider valuable. All that's left is a brick and steel skeleton superstructure; a testament to a bygone era.

The Glenwood Power Station (The name it goes by these days), has been soundlessly inviting me to photograph her ever since I was a teenager. I had been there once before in the late eighties. At the time I was running with a crew of graff writers. In hindsight, I'm glad I didn't spray it up, my aerosol skills were limited and would have added little to a setting already full of character. Furthermore, I wasn't there to bomb; I wanted to climb the smokestacks. But that's another story.

Recently, I read an article that British architect Will Alsop has plans to transform the power plant into a "residential complex featuring a museum, restaurant and park" (I'll refrain from passing judgment on his design; if you're interested, google him and see for yourself.), The article lit a fire under my ass. Regretfully, I've let too many photo opportunities slip through my fingers. I wasn't going to let it happen again. After years of procrastination, I finally had a reason to get myself over to this place and do what I love: explore & photograph. It has also inspired me to take action. My father always says, "time waits for no one." I think I'm finally learning that lesson.

The building is imposing. You don't really understand this until you walk in. Yeah, it's big when looking at it from the outside, but one does not comprehend the scale of it until you're standing inside under the gabled roof. The brick and metal work design are astounding. Debris and rubbish cover the floors. Many of the blue slate stair treads have cracked and fallen to the ground. Windows are shattered while sunlight pours in like honey, pipes bend and jut out from all angles, steel is slowly oxidizing, mineral stains abound and nature is slowly swallowing the building whole. The place can be spooky too, and reverberates with clicks, clangs, drips, creaks and the occasional cooing and flutter of pigeons. This feeling quickly dissipates and one is quickly overtaken by awe. Upon entering I was overwhelmed by a feeling; the best way to describe it is to paraphrase a favorite writer of mine, Isabelle Eberhardt,

"I sometimes feel a boundless sadness, an inarticulate longing for something I can not describe, a nostalgia for a place for which I have no name."

I will leave it at that, hope the photographs will do the rest.

I'd like to thank the following websites for information about the power plant:

http://www.hudsonvalleyruins.org/yasinsac/glenwood/glenwood.html

http://www.urbanlens.com/files/glenwood/glenwood.html

http://www.industcards.com/pp-conversions.htm

http://www.e-architect.co.uk/new%20york/glenwood_waterfront%20.htm