As one enters New York City’s subway system, one will simply be reduced to a small particle in a continuous flow of people. Being this particle, one will be carried in subway cars, constantly exposed to the darkness of the subway tunnels. This darkness reveals nor a place, nor a time. It mirrors the interior in the winter as bright as in the summer. Since the exterior has become a copy of the interior, one has no choice, but to watch the interior with its travelers. The subway train seems to be the antithesis on the scenic bus tour.
At several points in the subway system of New York City, there are two parallel tracks for subway trains heading in the same direction. So at these points, subway trains are able to pass each other. Although these moments are unpredictable, the reflections of the interior suddenly make place for a new opportunity: trainspotting. Rarely, the passing trains ride at the same speed. But when they do, the darkness of the tunnels is being replaced by the interior of the adjacent subway car. An extended interior space originates. Not defined by place or time, this space becomes so unstable that it can scatter at any moment now.
In such undefined, unpredictable and unstable space, is one able to interact with someone in the passing subway car?