The Dying Shift
“Back in the day I would buy tokens from them and interact with them almost daily,” Garcia explains. “But now, they're just kinda sitting there. These days there are not even tourists they can guide. What's their purpose? Creating safety?”
Built in 1904, the New York subway systems created a plethora of jobs for over a century. But now, in 2021, you don’t even need a metro card, really. With just a tap, your iPhone will let you through the turnstile. Google Maps will tell you exactly where to go. The analog nature of using the subway has become virtually nonexistent. “Sometimes we don't even understand that something is dying before it's already dead,” Garcia says. “I question what is next and I'm curious about machine replacement—what or who will be replaced next?”
It’s existential, really. As one starts to understand the dying nature of these workers’ profession, maybe they’ll begin to ponder on the other facets that make up these human beings who “spend days in this box,” as Garcia puts it. What are their names? What are their stories? Do they understand or think about how they represent an archaic, analog part of a New York that once was?
Garcia goes on to describe the fascination that pushed him to create this series, which includes photos taken both pre- and post-pandemic. “Sometimes an agent’s handwriting catches my eye,” he says. “For instance, there is a booth on Spring Street where the agent always writes on a white board behind him, he has this very beautiful handwriting.”
“In some photos, you see a clock in the background,” Garcia continues. “A representation of time, standing still and moving at the same time. In a way, the box is a bit of a time capsule. Inside, everything stands still. Outside of it, people are in constant motion.”
