NEWARK -- Rolling stock.
It doesn't sound pretty, and if
you ask some of the 340,000 people who ride New Jersey Transit's
trains and buses every day, it isn't a pretty experience, according
to the New York Times.
It's not just the fact that trains
between New Jersey and New York have become unbearably crowded since
the destruction of the World Trade Center knocked out a critical leg
of the PATH network and displaced 66,000 commuters. It's just that
the nation's second-largest transit system, cobbled together from a
web of failing rail and bus companies in the late 1970's, lacks a
coherent look or panache, a certain je ne sais quoi.
Put
more bluntly, the 611 trains and 2,065 buses that crisscross the
Garden State are little more than steel-sided boxes on wheels,
adequately comfortable but as inviting as a junior high school
cafeteria.
The exteriors of the newest cars, introduced in
1994, are painted a dreary mix of black and gray. The overhead
fluorescent lighting is viciously unkind.
"They look O.K.
but they're nothing to write home about," Frank Mitchell, a
45-year-old lawyer, said last week as he boarded the 6:49 p.m. train
from Pennsylvania Station in Manhattan to Newark. "They wouldn't win
any design awards, that's for sure."
If Cesar Vergara has his
way, New Jersey's rolling stock may one day win international
awards, not to mention the undying affection of its long- suffering
ridership. Mr. Vergara, one of the nation's best-known industrial
designers, was hired by New Jersey Transit six months ago to turn a
nice transportation system into a stylistic knockout. He will start
with the locomotives and extend his vision to everything from
passenger cars, signs and schedules to the agency's proposed transit
villages -- integrated mixes of housing and stores that will one day
rise alongside five of its suburban rail stations.
"We want
to create a mass transit system so cool, we won't be able to sell
tickets fast enough," said Jeffrey A. Warsh, New Jersey Transit's
executive director, who hired Mr. Vergara. "People are going to say,
`We want those trains and buses in our community.' It will inspire
the grass roots, and it will inspire the legislators who fund the
system."
It is an ambitious plan that envisions a rail
network to rival those in Europe. By hiring Mr. Vergara, public
transport experts say, New Jersey Transit has become the first
agency in the country with an in-house chief designer, someone who
will oversee every element of a $1 billion system that carries 224
million people a year.
"There's no reason a train should not
be comfortable to ride and beautiful to look at," said Bill
Vantuono, the editor of Railway Age, a New York-based trade journal.
"People who spend two hours a day commuting deserve something better
than a cattle car. It's a stunning move by New Jersey Transit,
hopefully one that will serve as a precedent for the rest of the
country."
It may take several years before most passengers
see the fruits of Mr. Vergara's design work, although those who
travel through Pennsylvania Station in Newark can see an
architectural flourish that he recently added to one passageway that
once featured a slapdash mural of buses and trains. Mr. Vergara
installed a photographic trompe l'oeil that appears to be some long
obscured feature of the architects McKim, Mead & White's art
deco.
And bus passengers in Bergen County have been jolted
by another bit of Vergara whimsy: an exterior paint scheme that
wildly reinterprets New Jersey Transit's traditional orange, magenta
and navy chevron. (Not everyone is thrilled with the paint job,
including Mr. Warsh, who stresses that it is only experimental.)
Yet another rendition of the agency's pastel palette will
appear later this year on 200 new passenger train cars. Although
those cars were already in production when Mr. Vergara arrived, he
is working on a new diesel locomotive that harkens back to the great
era of railroading, when American icons like the 20th Century
Limited and the Hiawatha were household names.
While
transportation watchdogs complain about the 10 percent fare increase
the agency is planning for later this year, they are hailing the
creation of a design director post. "If you design something that
wows people, it will become irresistible, something that people feel
good about investing in," said Len Resto, president of the New
Jersey Association of Rail Passengers.
Transit officials,
mindful that the public might view the promise of cleaner lines and
kinder lighting as somewhat frivolous, stress that Mr. Vergara's
beautification campaign won't cost taxpayers anything extra, beyond
his $140,000 a year salary. In fact, Mr. Warsh said that having Mr.
Vergara on staff would save money that would otherwise be spent on
consultants.
"We didn't bring Cesar in here to say, `More
fabric, I need more fabric,' " Mr. Warsh said. "He's just going to
inject his aesthetic into the existing process."
Not that the
introduction of a style czar has been entirely wrinkle free,
especially among the old guard engineers and architects who rarely
stray from the "form follows function" concept. Mr. Vergara admitted
that he raised hackles when he redesigned a vehicular overpass in
Secaucus made of concrete slabs, transforming it into a graceful
bridge that seems to float on sweeping red arches. "It's a facade,
of sorts, but it didn't cost any more to do," he said, sitting in
his office, which overlooks the tracks at Penn Station in Newark.
"If I may be so bold, it is about good taste versus bad taste, and I
have the tools to inject good taste into the system."
Mr.
Vergara's bold ideas have been adopted by the French -- the new
generation of high-speed AGV trains are his. In the Pacific
Northwest, he helped remake the Amtrak Cascades, which runs between
Oregon and British Columbia, giving the first and last cars a giant
set of tail fins. Jeffrey Schultz, who runs rail operations for the
Washington State Department of Transportation, said that since their
introduction in 1998, the distinctive fins and dazzling interiors
have helped raise ridership by 10 percent a year.
Despite a
successful career as a consultant and a two-hour, two-train and
one-subway trip to work from his home in Connecticut, Mr. Vergara
said he was lured to New Jersey by the prospect of orchestrating the
look and feel of an entire transportation system. "This is," he
said, "an industrial designer's dream come true."
Boyish and
ebullient, Mr. Vergara, 45, a native of Mexico, can make something
as mundane as a ventilation shaft sound exciting when he speaks. He
feels particularly passionate about train restrooms. He said, "If
you got in there and there was a shelf for your cellphone, your coat
didn't get stuck in the door, there wasn't water everywhere and you
didn't look in the mirror and say, `I look dead' because the
lighting is so bad, then I've done my job well."
Cynics may
wonder whether suburbia's commuting herds will even notice the
difference. Mr. Vergara has this ready reply: "Do you think people
in Rome or Paris are more sophisticated than people in New Jersey?
No. It's the environment that's more sophisticated, and we hope we
can do the same here, little by little."