Made from NYC, about NYC: Thomas McKean’s MetroCard collages are tributes to the excess of city life

On 1 January 2026, New York City’s MTA (Metropolitan Transportation Authority) discontinued the beloved MetroCard. For Londoners, it’s basically like the Oyster card – in Japan, it’s Pasmo, in Canada, it's a Compass Card. Everywhere has one, and for those who use public transportation everyday, we end up oddly attached to these little things. For some, they’re disposable transport cards, merely an excess of everyday living. But for others, like artist and writer Thomas McKean, they’re everything. MetroCards are literally the basis of his art, they’re the material, the canvas, the soul. And needless to say, Thomas is mourning the Big Apple’s primary transport ticket! The collage artist spoke to It’s Nice That for our Everyday Edition about his process and love for the humble slip of yellow plastic.

“It’s embarrassing to recall, but I resisted the MetroCard when it replaced the token, using the latter as long as I could,” says Thomas. “At last, I had to bow to reality, little imagining that it would become the focus of my artistic life for over a quarter of a century (and counting).” Back in the day, before the MTA charged people one dollar for a new card, people simply tossed them on the ground and moved on – so there Thomas would be, on his hands and knees, scooping them up. “And receiving many the pitying look!” he says. The artist fell in love with the card, for its simple beauty and possibly because so many people disregarded it so easily. He’s a true magpie – and not before long, he was entranced by its colours, limitations and most importantly: the challenge of doing a lot with a little. He likens it to writing a sonnet, a writing exercise that invites people to put their own spin on fourteen lines.

“I was riding the subway around 30 years ago, back when the MetroCard was new. I had forgotten to bring a book or the newspaper, so to entertain myself, I looked at a poster promoting the then-new MetroCard and idly wondered how many words could I come up with from its letters?’” says Thomas. “One idea led to another and my visual vocabulary rapidly expanded: I started changing the shape, the size, and – silly to recall – realising I could even use its back! Later, I discovered the world of special editions MetroCards (usually sponsored by some business or arts organisation), so I could add splashes of colour beyond the basic MetroCard palette of yellow, blue, black and brown (and white, counting the back). Despite that, most of my pieces remain true to the basic palette.”

When Thomas first began making art of this disposable plastic rectangle, it was purely for his own entertainment and pleasure. But it developed into a passion and a challenge, one with societal repercussions: he’s constantly upcycling, essentially, and making treasures out of trash. As he likes to say: “It’s a piece of New York made from a piece of New York.” The artworks themselves are wonderful; they evoke a type of outsider art aesthetic with their reclaimed materials, mosaic compositions and simple subject matters such as everyday people, everyday objects, everyday feelings. From MetroCards, he has recreated NYC buildings, yellow taxis, famous skylines – even the MetroCard itself, recreated lovingly from other MetroCards. As well as that, he has a slew of artworks that centre around the nine unique letters on the cards, depicting MetroCubes, MetroCarps (by turning the D upside down), MaestroCards, MeteorCards, MetroCamels, MetroCarrots, and even just Card.

“To be honest, I used to chafe at the term ‘folk art’, but have long since made peace with it, even embracing it,” says Thomas. His parents owned a painting by the American primitive painter Grandma Moses, which he spent hours admiring – perhaps it influenced his art style. “I think certain mass-produced objects somehow are imbued with an almost magical quality that brings them into people’s hearts,” says Thomas. He looks at three cars in particular that capture this essence: the Citroën 2-CV, the Mini Minor, the Volkswagen Beetle. And of course, as a New Yorker, Thomas spends time enjoying public transport, places where a type of magical mundanity takes place. Thomas’ art prompts us to find the “strange beauty” in the small objects with which we fill our wallets, pockets and lives. “I even drew every single glove or mitten I found on the sidewalks of New York over a 12-month period, being delighted by how one basic object could have so many iterations,” says Thomas. “And of course, wondering about who had lost them…”