Now that I live in New Jersey (exit 9), I am reminded of some art essays I read in college. In 1966, modernist sculptor Tony Smith described a ride on the then-unfinished turnpike for an ArtForum interview in 1966:
“I view art as something vast. I think highway systems fall down because they are not art. Art today is the art of postage stamps. […] I think of art in a public context and not in terms of mobility of works of art. Art is just there[…].
When I was teaching at Cooper Union in the first year or two of the fifties, someone told me how I could get on the unfinished New Jersey Turnpike. I took three students and drove from somewhere in the Meadows to New Brunswick. It was a dark night and there were no lights or shoulder markers, linke railings, or anything at all except the dark pavement moving through the towers, fumes and colored lights. This drive was a revealing experience. The road and the landscape was artificial, and yet it couldn’t be called a work of art. On the other hand, it did something for me that art had never done. At first I didn’t know what it was, but it’s effect was to liberate me from many of the views I had had about art. It seemed that there had been a reality there which had not had any expression in art.
The experience on the road was something mapped out but not socially recognized. I thought to myself, it ought to be clear that’s the end of art. Most painting looks pretty pictorial after that. There is no way you can frame it, you just have to experience it. Later I discovered some abandoned airstrips in Europe – abandoned works, Surrealist landscapes, something that had nothing to do with any function, created worlds without tradition. Artificial landscape without cultural precedent began to dawn on me. There is a drill ground in Nuremberg, large enough to accomodate two million men. The entire field is enclosed with high embankements and towers. The concrete approach is three sixteen-inch steps, one above the other, stretching for a mile or so[…]