CONEY ISLAND

ISLAND OF ISLANDS

It seems as if history repeats itself at the narrow peninsula of Coney Island where the strange juxtaposition of enclosed escapist realms was cleared once again. Quintessentially a natural refuge for the people of the ever-denser Manhattan, with its wide shores, salt marshes and the exceptionally large population of rabbits – or konijnen in Dutch – that gave it its name, the island soon had to cope with an overpopulation of people instead. The island had to transform itself into something new to keep on offering a place of escape and refuge; it became something super-natural. It turned itself into the total opposite of nature to counteract the artificiality of the metropolis. New closed-off islands take shape: Steeplechase Park, Luna and Dreamland, their extra-terrestrial, highly artificial and fragile atmospheres shielded from their surroundings. At the same time another locked-off world is created a little further: Sea Gate, a private gated community of single-family homes, equally turning its back to its neighbors. The mere geographical and natural separation of the island no longer suffices to escape from the metropolis; new small realms are formed in its interior, all carrying that spirit of stepping outside the every-day life. However, the ‘End of the World’ attraction of Dreamland literally becomes this world’s end when it short-circuits in May 1911 and starts a fire that burns Dreamland to the ground. Three years later Luna Park too goes up in flames. A lone rollercoaster stands in the ashes of the cleared ‘super-natural’: a first clearance in its history. The gap is rapidly closed by city planner Robert Moses when he creates new un-natural enclaves by transforming fifty percent of Coney Island into parks.

However, in October 2012 the shores of the island were once again swept clean, this time by Hurricane Sandy. The remaining fun fair was once more heavily hit, leaving the rollercoaster in the middle of a sea of water this time. Sea Gate was struck by an equal force of water that swept through many of the beach houses. But something else has also happened: the artificial barriers, protecting the ‘super-natural’ inside, have been breached, blurring the escapist ambitions of one realm with those of another. The ‘naturally restored’ dunes of the Coney Island Creek Park shifted and buried the delineating fence of Sea Gate – and the lower levels of some houses – erasing this once so sharp border. Yet perhaps even stronger breaches were slashed in the social barriers, bringing alienated neighbors back together in the recovery afterwards. Perhaps some bridges will remain between the islands, even if the ever-shifting sands reveal the physical barriers once more.

Thomas Willemse

April 2013