The most iconic outdoor NYC art

Water towers are as much a part of the New York skyline as pigeons, decorating tens of thousands of roofs across the boroughs. Many have hosted art in some way or another—be it as a canvas for graffiti or a pop-up restaurant for a performance art piece—but none are quite like Tom Fruin’s steel-and-salvaged acrylic masterpiece in Brooklyn Bridge Park. Best seen from the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, the tower is a sight to behold when the sun’s rays hit it just right—but it’s twice as gorgeous lit up after dark. See it soon, though—the tower’s one-year installation period is almost up.

Built as a tribute to the 100th anniversary of George Washington’s inauguration and modeled after Paris’s famed Arc de Triomphe, this marble monument sits at the southernmost end of Fifth Avenue, framing both the Empire State Building (if you’re standing south of the arch) or One World Trade Center (if you’re to the north of it). But this 77-foot-tall arch is more than just a handy helper for great Instagrams; look closely, and you’ll find numerous homages to our first president. In spite of what you might believe, it’s also hollow; look on the far western side, and you’ll find a small door leading into the arch. (Sadly, the interior’s not open to the public.)

Back in 1986, during some of the darkest days in Harlem’s history, Keith Haring ventured north of 125th Street to create an artistic statement against the crack epidemic sweeping the neighborhood at the time. Haring died not four years later, but the Parks Department—who gave him permission to make the piece—keeps his iconic black-and-orange “Crack Is Wack” mural in pristine shape to this day. Located at the corner of Second Avenue and 127th Street, the mural is easily glimpsed while driving south on the Harlem River Drive, but head into the playground itself for the best view.

The famous sculpture of this four-letter word, located at the intersection of 56th Street and Sixth Avenue, isn’t exactly one-of-a-kind; the design, created in 1958 by Robert Indiana, has been recreated (and parodied) many times over the last half-century. But the Sixth Avenue installation is special; it sits less than two blocks from the Museum of Modern Art, who launched the piece to fame when they used it for a 1964 Christmas card. The work’s NYC location also hearkens back to Indiana’s roots; while he saw himself as a painter first, he began working with sculpture after being inspired by the raw building materials he found outside his Manhattan studio—old beams from abandoned warehouses just big enough for a single word.

When famed street artist Banksy spent a month in NYC back in 2013, he left his anarchic handiwork all across town. But many of his pieces were quickly painted over—either by unhappy business owners or other graffiti artists. You can still find this silhouette of a small boy taking a sledgehammer to a standpipe on West 79th Street near Broadway, though. It’s protected by a sheet of Plexiglas—installed not by the artist, but by Saul Zabar, who owns both the famed delicatessen and the building “Boy With Hammer” is painted on. As with many of his pieces, Banksy is silent about what “Boy with Hammer” means, but the image is an excellent distillation of the artist’s chaotic-yet-childlike spirit.

^{Photograph: Courtesy Creative Commons/Flickr/carnagenyc}

A recent addition to NYC’s public art scene—it went up in Brooklyn Bridge Park in November—this giant two-letter interjection offers different meanings depending where you see it from. Viewed from the East River, it’s a hearty greeting from Brooklyn; seen looking towards Manhattan, it’s an utterly New York expression of exasperation. If the blocky yellow letters seem oddly familiar, there’s a good reason; artist Deborah Kass was inspired by Edward Ruscha’s well-known 1962 painting, “OOF.”

In spite of its name, the 240-ton tower was already a millennium old when Cleo was born. There are similar spires in Paris and London, taken when England and France were fighting over Egypt in the late 19th Century; when America stayed out of the argument, the Egyptian leader gave the needle to New York as a thank-you gift. Significant weathering has pitted the hieroglyphics over the years— shockingly, not due to thousands of years in the Egyptian sand, but a century and a half of exposure to New York’s polluted air and acid rain.

^{Photograph: Courtesy Creative Commons/Flickr/gigi_nyc}

When this bronze bovine first appeared on Dec 15, 1989, it was a shock—especially since creator Arturo Di Modica, who cast it in his Soho studio as a Christmas gift to the city, dropped it in front of the New York Stock Exchange without asking permission. (He timed the drop-off to fit into the six-minute gap between NYPD foot patrols.) It was removed that same day, but the bull had already become so popular, the Parks Department set it back up two blocks to the south at Bowling Green—where it remains to this day. Since then, years of touching have polished much of the brass to a shine, including the head, the horns, and the, uh, Rocky Mountain oysters.

Created in 1971 to symbolize the goal of achieving world peace through trade, this bronze sculpture, originally located between the Twin Towers, was damaged during the September 11th attacks. Six months later to the day, though, the city—with the help of sculptor Fritz Koenig—placed the piece in Battery Park, where it now sits alongside an eternal flame in memoriam of all those who lost their lives during the attack. In its original configuration at the Trade Center, The Sphere sat at the center of a display evoking the Grand Mosque of Mecca—with the brass sculpture representing the Kaaba, the holiest sight in Islam.

Ireland’s Great Famine of the mid-19th Century caused roughly a million people to leave the Emerald Isle for greener pastures. Many of them settled down in New York City, eventually becoming a deep-seated part of New York’s culture. Brian Tolle’s Battery Park City piece, though, reminds New Yorkers of that past. The giant piece is an interactive recreation of the Irish countryside, complete with fallow potato fields, stones from all 32 Irish counties, and an abandoned cottage, all atop a limestone plinth. It’s open for the public to walk on, giving those with Irish roots—or those who say they do on St. Patrick’s Day—a chance to reflect on how they got there.

^{Photograph: Courtesy Creative Commons/Flickr/A. Strakey}

Long a fixture of the East Village, this eight-by-eight-by-eight foot black cube was originally intended to be in place for only six months back in 1967; however, the sculpture proved so popular among locals, they lobbied to have it remain forever. Since then, the piece’s Astor Place location and visibility have made it a popular meeting point. Many New Yorkers know the cube will spin around its vertical axis with a strong push; fewer know that this wasn’t intended, but rather an accident in its design. It’s made of Cor-Ten Steel, just like the roof of the Barclays Center, but Alamo’s thick coat of black paint keeps it from rusting the way the arena does. And in spite of the claim put forth by a recent “documentary,” nobody lives inside the cube.

^{Photograph: Courtesy Creative Commons/Flickr/DeShaun Craddock}

One of the greatest jazz musicians of all time, Duke Ellington’s career took him far and wide—but the roots of his success lie in Harlem, where he gained national attention playing at the famed Cotton Club. It’s a fitting tribute to a man who single-handedly changed American music, then, that Robert Graham’s 25-foot bronze sculpture of him sits on the line between Harlem and Museum Mile. The statue features an eight-foot Ellington beside a grand piano, lofted above 110th Street on pillars topped with figures representing the Muses. The entire piece sits inside Duke Ellington Circle, inside an amphitheater—ensuring Ellington will always have a place for an audience to watch him.

^{Photograph: Courtesy Creative Commons/Flickr/gula08}