More than 250 extraordinary photographs--including both newly commissioned color photographs and period images from the New York Transit Museum archives--chronicle one hundred years of architectural and design history from the New York City subway system, including everything from the interiors of tUnlikely as it may seem, the 100th anniversary of the New York City subway system was the impetus for a handsome book, Subway Style: 100 Years of Architecture & Design in the New York City Subway. Produced by the New York Transit Museum, this abundantly illustrated design history traces the origins and development of subway cars and stations, including ceramic and metalwork detailing, ticket booths, signage, route maps and advertising. Treated in a merely dutiful way, this material would probably be of interest only to subway buffs. But Subway Style boasts high-quality photographs, an inviting design, and a succinct and wryly amusing text that relates subway developments to other cultural happenings and isn't too proud to explain specialized terms. It's the kind of book that makes the evolution of turnstiles sound fascinating. With a contractual mandate to instill "beauty" into "a great public work," the IRT--the first of three subway lines--originally featured elaborate Beaux Arts ceramic detailing displaying historical scenes or symbolizing local landmarks. Gracious bronze grilles served as ticket windows, and station names were painstakingly spelled out in glass mosaic tiles. Succeeding generations morphed these features into increasingly streamlined versions utilizing the latest technology and design trends. Wood station seats gave way to cast terrazzo perches cantilevered from the wall, then to molded fiberglass, polyurethane and finally back to wood. Usable maps were a long time in coming. In 1958, 18 years after the three lines were united, the Transit Authority finally published a single guide showing the entire system. Massimo Vignelli--whose bold, color-keyed station signage was a major innovation--later produced an abstract, all but useless map that was, as the book says, "emblematic of New York’s 1970s retreat from urban life." The chapter on subway ads is (naturally) the most fun, ranging from Amelia Opdyke "Oppy" Jones' expressive cartoon characters--caught in the act of dropping gum wrappers or propping their feet on the seats--to head shots of women hoping to be voted "Miss Subways." —Cathy Curtis . CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD THIS BOOK FOR FREE