NOT SURE how long it will be that you can see this up close, but there was something sobering about standing on the ground next to it. You could really begin to grasp the size and power of the Da Vinci fire At this point last week it had just stopped smoldering but the stench still smudged the air.
… has a story …
This weekend, the Los Angeles Conservancy is offering a series of tours featuring historic neighborhoods in Los Angeles: Windsor Village, County Club Park, Wilshire Park are among them. As well the day-long event will offer sessions and workshops on sustainability, greening your home and balancing redevelopment and preservation.
And even if you can make it in the flesh, all of Los Angeles has been invited to participate in the discussion by using the hashtag, #LAStoryhood, to document the uniqueness of their own neighborhood in photographs via Twitter and Instagram… Looking forward to these personal virtual tours.
For more info on the project click here.
THIS POEM, by my friend and longtime colleague Rubén Martinez, graces the marquee of the grand Orpheum theater in Downtown L.A. As part of the Pop-Up Broadway arts and culture showcase highlighting Los Angeles’ vital cultural resources.
It’s a part of Mayor Eric Garcetti’s Great Streets Initiative
ITS BEEN a year (or more) since I began stepping up my return visits to the Grand Central Market because I know it will be a very different place sooner rather than later.
I’ve taken quick walk-throughs some days. On others I’ll sit with one friend or another for a leisurely visit and watch the old and new cross and merge — customers, produce, menus and conversations — all of it on display. So many different Los Angeleses on display among the dried chilies and the fresh corn. I miss the old butcher and the curious arrangements of meats (heads and hooves) — but then I think, maybe he’s not gone — not just yet — only around a corner I haven’t turned yet. But then I am distracted by some new site or stand — the deli, the cheese shop, the new butcher. As I walk around now, I am having trouble even remembering what I remember.
The original six-story building on Broadway was designed in 1896 by architect John B. Parkinson (whose firm served as architects for other L.A.-signature structures such as City Hall, Bullock’s Wilshire and the Los Angeles Union Passenger Terminal — Union Station). Built by Homer Laughlin an Ohio-based businessman. the building’s first ground-floor tenant was he Ville de Paris Department store, but in 1917 the space was remained as a public market that has been shape-shifting to serve the population of downtown ever since.
Up until the 60s, the market served both downtown businesses as well as the residential communities above along Bunker Hill. Now that Broadway and many surrounding downtown boulevards and adjacent neighborhoods are repopulating with loft and condo-dwellers, just who downtown residents are — as well as what their needs might be — have become much more complex subject of discussion.
Change always seems sudden here in L.A., even if it isn’t really. It might have to do with the way we navigate the city. If you uproot from an old neighborhood or a job the familiar haunts slide away to make room for others. Time shifts and it “seems like yesterday.” But it more time has passed than we think.
I took a writer friend who, though she passed the Laughlin building weekly, hadn’t stuck her head inside the Market for some time. In her head it was the same as it always had been: The fruit signs, the neon, the dry goods, the heads and hooves on ice. But after just a few steps inside she saw not what was there but what wasn’t: the old map of her childhood visits, the vendors she had relationships with (whom she asked after by first name.)
Her reaction was instant and deep. The raw emotion — the upset — surprised even her. At first glimpse, It felt like another impending erasure. Full and total. And it wouldn’t be the first time.
The hope for these visits, I realized, is to be able to slow time down a bit so I can absorb and document change in motion.
I too have been bowled over by complete re-imaginings of locations I have considered to be anchors of periods of my life here, backdrops that I thought would be ever-present like the mountains in the distance behind the skyline.
But I know better now.
FOR ABOUT two years now, I have been following artist Dominique Moody’s story. I mentioned Dominique here just a couple of posts back as we were finishing up the final stages of this part of her journey.
She has been working on constructing a tiny, mobile dwelling — The Nomad — that will not only both be her residence and her studio — but in many ways a stage.
Moody has been deeply enmeshed in the process of collage and assemblage for decades, but this piece is in certain ways the one she’s been working toward for decades. It will allow her, as an artist, to move into regions where she won’t only be an artist in residence, but an artist with residence — a sense of home, a sense of rootedness — something she has struggled with for much of her life.
The photos below show the NOMAD just a few months back in Pasadena. My full piece about Dominique just went up yesterday, here, at KCET’s Artbound blog.
all photos: copyright Lynell George
LAST NIGHT, I took time away from the keyboard to attend the opening of a new exhibition on display at the Central Library Downtown about the history of Union Station. It was so well worth it. No Further West: The Story of Union Station opens to the public today and will be up until August. Anyone who is interested in architecture, L.A. history and the evolution of downtown Los Angeles should make time to take a glimpse. It was an evening of quality time travel.
For more information about the exhibit — and some slideshows and history — click here.