Time is running out. The fight to save the Elizabeth Street Garden has become increasingly urgent. In just ten days, this garden—along with its cultural, historical, and community value—could be lost forever.
While the movement to keep the garden in place has amassed over 900,000 letters, recently, the New York City government served an eviction notice, setting a strict timeline for the garden’s removal. Through art, technology, and a shared love for this magical space, 480 volunteers are working tirelessly to ensure it remains a vibrant part of New York City.
Located in the heart of Manhattan’s Nolita neighborhood, hidden between tall buildings and bustling streets, The Elizabeth Street Garden is a secret haven, a fantastical enclave offering a rare escape from the frenetic pace of New York City. However, the stark reality of bulldozers and concrete looms over this beloved space, and the community’s passionate advocacy may not be enough to stop it.
Take a moment with me. Imagine stepping through the garden’s modest gated entrance and being greeted by a verdant tapestry of greenery, where winding paths lead you past whimsical statues and secluded nooks perfect for quiet reflection. The air carries the scent of blooming flowers, mingling with the earthy aroma of sun-warmed soil. It’s a place that feels alive, not just with plant life but with the energy of the community that has nurtured it for decades. You are in a sanctuary—one that embodies the heart and soul of Nolita and the larger Manhattan community.
In my recent interview with Joseph Reiver, Executive Director of the Elizabeth Street Garden, I gained insight into the ongoing battle to preserve this urban oasis has been crucial in the preservation of its future. Hyper-real Radiance Fields, 3D models that allow viewers to experience how sunlight filters through the garden’s trees, the texture of the sculptures, and the sense of tranquility that defines the space. For those who have never visited, these models created by artists Tavius Koktavy and Mehow Skalski offer an immersive experience of the garden, making the preservation effort more tangible to a broader audience, rallying more to the cause.
Radiance field-based technologies, such as NeRFs (Neural Radiance Fields) and Gaussian Splatting, transform standard 2D images or video into hyper-realistic 3D models. These technologies are revolutionizing digital preservation by capturing intricate details and spatial depth that traditional methods can’t. The garden has embraced these technologies to create stunningly realistic 3D renderings.
“When I’m speaking to someone, I always say, ‘Come to the garden,’ because it speaks best for itself. I can describe it, show pictures or videos, but nothing compares to experiencing it in person. The digital rendering adds a whole new layer, bringing depth that complements the physical experience,” said Reiver.
Reiver also spoke passionately about the importance of using technology for advocacy. “These renderings have allowed us to show the world what we stand to lose. With these 3D models, we can communicate our message far beyond NYC’s boundaries.”
These Radiance Fields, with their hyper-real visualizations, offer a powerful tool for art activism, conservation, and digitizing entire moments beyond the limits of photography. Hyper-realistic 3D models could also influence legal systems by providing detailed reconstructions of events or environments, enabling courts to explore multiple perspectives and gain a clearer understanding of the facts.
As you walk through the garden, you sense the layers of history embedded in its soil. In the 1800s, the land was part of a public school, where children played and learned. Later, it became an empty lot, waiting for someone to breathe life back into it. That person was Joseph Reiver’s father, who transformed the space into the foundation of what we see today. The sculptures, curatorially arranged, tell a story of creativity and community—a reflection of the resilience that defines New York.
The garden’s evolution has been marked by transformation and reinvention. In the 1970s, after the school was torn down, the lot was promised as recreational space for the community, but that promise went unfulfilled. For years, the land sat unused until the 1990s, when the garden began to take shape. Over time, it has grown into a vibrant sanctuary where the community comes together to celebrate art, nature, and connection.
The garden has become a living work of art, shaped by the hands of over 480 volunteers, artists, and community members. “I think the space is magical. It’s unlike anything else in the city. You forget you’re in New York, but it embodies the spirit of the city and what many spaces strive to replicate,” Reiver explained. Musicians, poets, and artists have found inspiration in the garden’s greenery. "We have live music, poetry readings, and art installations—all open and accessible to the public. It’s a place where creativity flourishes, where people can express themselves freely," Reiver said.
Earlier this August, I found myself captivated by a Transatlantic accent floating through the warm summer air. Drawn towards the garden, I stumbled upon a screening of Rear Window, the garden packed with people. Unsure if I was allowed to enter, I hesitated at the open gates. I was soon informed by a volunteer that all events in the garden are free and open to the community.
Its artistic programming has brought a vibrancy that resonates deeply with visitors. One of the most memorable recent events was Patti Smith’s Earth Day intimate concert, which drew hundreds of people. “The energy that day was electric. It felt like a true New York moment, where people from all walks of life came together to share something beautiful,” Reiver recalled.
Through hyper-real radiance fields, the garden’s preservation effort is showing how technology can help protect the beauty and spirit of vulnerable physical spaces. By digitizing the garden, activists have created a powerful tool to convey its emotional and cultural value—something that might otherwise be lost amid dry housing statistics.
The garden’s reach extends far beyond its physical boundaries. “We’ve received messages from people in Barcelona, Japan, the UK, and Canada, expressing their hope to visit. It’s amazing to see how this small oasis has touched people worldwide,” Reiver said.
As I listened to Reiver, it became clear that the garden’s story is one of community resilience and imagination. The radiance fields have immortalized the garden. Even if the physical space is someday lost, its digital twin—with all its warmth and beauty—will live on, reminding us of what this corner of Nolita once was and what it meant to so many. It serves as a cautionary tale of what we stand to lose through unnecessary destruction of public spaces.
Reiver shared a poignant thought: “In a way, the garden couldn’t exist as it does today without the constant threat of losing it. That pressure has brought people together, pushed us to expand, and ultimately made the garden what it is—a place that represents the spirit of New Yorkers. It’s iconic. It shouldn’t exist, and yet it does—an anomaly, a beacon of hope in a rapidly changing city.”
Visit the garden’s website to sign the petition and send a prefilled letter to NYC Mayor Eric Adams and Governor Kathy Hochul. Every action counts. Let’s ensure this garden remains a place of peace and community.
