Seams between systems and the Vignelli NYC subway map

I just read “Mr. Vignelli’s Map” by Michael Bierut over at Design Observer. In the post, Bierut remembers and analyzes why the public rejected Vignelli’s map of the New York City subway system. (Here’s the Vignelli subway map.)

The Vignelli map smartly acknowledged that for passengers of the subway focused on navigating the subway system itself, above ground geography was nothing but a factor of added complexity. So the map instead was oriented around the subway lines and stops themselves, abstracting actual geography. This was a keen simplification from an information design perspective.

But consider this observation from Bierut’s article.

To make the map work graphically meant that a few geographic liberties had to be taken. What about, for instance, the fact that the Vignelli map represented Central Park as a square, when in fact it is three times as long as it is wide? If you’re underground, of course, it doesn’t matter: there simply aren’t as many stops along Central Park as there are in midtown, so it requires less map space. But what if, for whatever reason, you wanted to get out at 59th Street and take a walk on a crisp fall evening? Imagine your surprise when you found yourself hiking for hours on a route that looked like it would take minutes on Vignelli’s map.

The concept of designing the seams between systems has become apparent within the user experience design community over the last couple years. This is an example of that problem of seams.

Passengers of the subway system are also navigators of the city itself, so their context of use spans beyond the subway and the end of their decisions are not merely which stop to get on and off of, but where they are going once they get out of the subway.

Bierut makes the point:

The problem, of course, was that Vignelli’s logical system came into conflict with another, equally logical system: the 1811 Commissioners’ Plan for Manhattan.

How can designers consider the seams between the subway system and the city plan to result in a better-designed subway map?

NYC, of course, has a functioning subway map. Is functionality the only litmus test?

(I’ve taken the subway in New York City only once, and managed to get from Point A to Point B successfully, although with some anxiety.)

The Thanksgiving Duck

Lila and Eva wishing you peace on Thanksgiving, 2009.

Lila and Eva wishing you peace on Thanksgiving, 2009.

As mentioned last post, I tried a duck for Thanksgiving. Lila summed it up with “It’s okay Dad, but it’s not appealing.”

I could not fit the bird into the crock pot, so my Plan A was foiled. Instead I roasted it in the oven. I applied poultry seasoning and tucked onion and apple chunks inside before putting it into the oven.

What about the fat? The infamous problem with duck is the layer of fat under the skin of the duck. I poked holes in the skin so the fat would drain out during roasting. This certainly helped and the skin was actually very nice, golden and crispy. There were still some unappealing sections of fat, although they were easy to separate from the meat.

I’ve never had duck before, and the taste and texture was unexpected. It wasn’t bad, and the overall dinner was great.

A recipe for disaster?

Against the advice of Adam, I am going to attempt to cook a small turkey in my crock pot for Thanksgiving.

It’s just me, Lila, and Eva, so we don’t need a big bird.

If I can’t get it to fit in the crock pot I reserve the right to abort to Plan B, which is to put the bird in the regular old oven. But that isn’t as interesting.

On a side note, I’ll bet the frozen chickens feel like rejects this time of year. Poor little birds.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Update, 10:47 PM

The smallest turkey at the store was 10 pounds! That’s four more pounds than I dare to try to fit into the crock pot. So, while I nearly decided to find the biggest crock pot ever, I decided instead to get a 5 pound duck.

Oh yes, the game’s afoot now. Plus, the bill was less that than of a 10 pound turkey. ;-)