There are several neat things about PS 1 but most of all, it's the site. The building is vintage New York City school system. I grew up in Queens, attending PS 147. I remember the barren cement courtyard where, if we were unlucky enough to fall down, we arose with skinned knees and lacerated fingers. The old stone buildings were impressive and as far from friendly as a building can get. But they had an undeniable and solid presence that required we take seriously the activities within.

PS 1 has that pedigree. It was built in the 1890s in the Romanesque revival style that was popular at the time. The residential growth that gave rise to the school didn't last. The number of students slowly declined and the building itself slowly deteriorated. Closed as a school in the 1960s, it remained in partial use as warehouse. It was destined for the wrecker's ball in the 1970s when New York City gave the abandoned building to the New York State Council on the Arts and Public School 1 became P.S.1 Contemporary Art Center. Today P.S.1 is affiliated with The Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), lending further stature to a world class center for contemporary art.

Parts of its public school history not only remain, but have become crucial pieces of the art environment. Bits of the original ceiling and old wooden floors. The stone stairs clearly worn into depressions, the wells formed by millions of feet going up and down. That concrete playground now provides a huge open space for outdoor exhibits. The stairwells have become strange vertical landscapes. The bathrooms puzzle visitors. Are these old bathrooms, now spangled, speckled and draped, art or a functioning toilet, or perhaps both? Even the basement's furnace and boiler rooms provide a backdrop for art.

Oddly enough, it's a kid-friendly place. And this is a function both of the building that provides a sturdy physical environment, and the kinds of exhibits.

The thing about contemporary art is that you have to look closely to realize what you're seeing. A pile of laundry detergent becomes a medium for that childhood favorite, a snow angel. A series of clothing bags hanging from racks reveals that the quilting is actually selections of Persian poetry, translated into English. The exhibits, of course, are ephemeral, unlike the solid brick and stone building, but full of strange delights.

The price is also family-friendly with a suggested donation of $5 for adults, and $2 for students and senior citizens.

New York City doesn't suffer from a lack of contemporary art, but P.S.1 has vision and variety. It is the jewel of the newest and hottest art center -- Astoria/Long Island City.