The Vessel of sadness

The last time I was in New York City was during May, 2019 (which seems like a million years ago). The Vessel, a climbing structure that's a prominent feature (i.e., tourist attraction) at the Hudson Yards, a still-in-the-works West Side real-estate development made up of a combo of commercial and residential properties, opened in March 2019. So I could have strolled over to "experience" it. But I didn't. I've walked the High Line park, which is in the same neck of the woods and is wonderful, but the Vessel just didn't appeal to me. 

The Vessel is a combo of a jungle gym and shoots and ladders (with an emphasis on the ladders). It's 16 stories high, with all sorts of interconnected staircases and landings. Definitely a workout. If you sign up for the first hour it's in operation, there's no charge. Other than that, it's $10 a ticket. Or was. Because of the latest suicide - there've been four since the Vessel opened - the attraction has closed.

Three of the four suicides were young folks in their early twenties. This latest one was even more horrific: a 14 year-old boy there with his family. 

It's difficult to imagine the depth of the pain and sorrow for this family. Difficult enough to lose a child under any circumstances. But to suicide...

I have a friendly acquaintance who lost her son this way. A young man in his late twenties, he was by all accounts a kind, loving, accomplished, attractive, and loved young man. But he suffered from profound depression that he found unlivable. He just couldn't see any other way out of the pain. I had never met him, but when I wrote the check to the mental health support organization listed in his obituary, I was crying. 

The Vessel had also closed in January for a few months while Hudson Yards management put:

...new safety measures in place, including increased security, a buddy system and signs about mental health resources. (Source: CNN)

The buddy system prohibits anyone from entering solo. If you're on your own, you have to join another singleton or a group. Which wasn't enough to save this boy. Such sadness. Such unfathomable pain. 

Now, the Vessel's future as the Instagrammable centerpiece of the largest development in Manhattan since Rockefeller Center is in limbo. Can it be saved?

Aside: does everything have to be Instagrammable??? 

Anyway, the firm that designed the Vessel is trying to come up with a physical solution that's "feasible in terms of engineering and installation." The railings are at present waist-high, so they could be raised. But while that might thwart an impulse suicide, it won't necessarily deter the determined. NYU's Bobst Library installed eight-foot high plexiglass barriers in its atrium after two students jumped to their deaths. Another student managed to get over that barrier. NYU solved the problem with aluminum panels that enclose the space and let in light - a brilliant solution that looks like it was part of the original design. And which has done the trick. There've been no suicides at Bobst since the panels went in in 2012. 

Bridges - the Golden Gate, the George Washington - now have or are installing safety nets to minimize suicides.

For the Vessel, some see another problem that defies a simple physical fix. 

The central point of architecture and design is that the constructed environment influences how we feel and act. And the Vessel -- surrounded on all sides by concrete, glass skyscrapers and crass commercialism -- has a more fundamental issue, according to Jacob Alspector, a distinguished lecturer at the Spitzer School of Architecture at The City College of New York.

"The Vessel is like some MC Escher nightmare," he said, referring to the famed graphic artist known for his staircases to nowhere. "It's kind of relentless. It's very gaudy, it's very cold. It's thrilling ... It's not the most friendly and life-affirming and inclusive kind of space or structure. It's kind of empty. What's the point of it? Just to walk up and walk down?"

He added: "People who feel alienated with the world may not be supported very well by an experience like that."

In case you're wondering whether those who are suicidal will just find another place to jump, or another method to kill themselves altogether, if their first choice isn't available: At least one study suggests that if suicides by jumping are prevented, there's "no associated increase in suicide by other means." In other words, people are finding another way to cope with their crisis. 

It seems inevitable that the Vessel will have to find a physical solution. When they reopened in May, the $10 entry fee was new, with the proceeds used to hire staff "to watch for distress" and top put up signs. They need to do better.

Jacob Alspector doesn't think that just putting in a higher barrier isn't going to work for the Vessel. He points to the Guggenheim Museum, which has a low barrier - and has never had a suicide in its over 80 years of existence.

"I think it's because the space is so beautiful, so magical, so affirming, so wonderful," said Alspector, the architect and professor. "I don't know that I've heard anyone describe the Vessel as beautiful."

He recognizes that, for the Vessel, the redesign problem is "tough," but they need to go with "something that's humane, life-affirming."

I know next to nothing about architecture, but I'm with Jacob Alspector.

The world is brutish enough without tourist attractions that are death traps.

I haven't been to the Guggenheim in years. Make that decades. But next time I'm in New York, I think I'll head over. Not that there's any reason I need to avoid the Vessel. Thankfully, I don't suffer from anything beyond minor, occasional situational depression, and I'm not the suicide type. But I don't really want to spend anytime in a place that's been a locus for suicides, that's unfriendly and not life-affirming. The very thought's depressing...

So I'll just keep myself away from the Vessel of sadness.