Of Cholas and Irvineites

Or: The Time I Almost Got Beat By A Real Life Chola

Growing up in Orange County, I was very sheltered in terms of not really knowing about other ethnicities and the threat of gangs. With a loud Mexican family on my mom’s side, I was always teased about how much of an Irvinite I was and that I didn’t even know any "real" Mexicans. I always denied the accusations that my cousins threw at me, thinking that my awareness of Mexican traditions and culture was enough. After all, it’s not my fault and I love my little bubble of Irvine.

Feeling like a night out with my older cousin Shannon and friend Kelly from home, Shannon came up with the idea that we should go out to LA. Excited by the fact that we were traveling outside of our comfortable bubble to the big city, Kelly and I dressed to the nines. Dresses, heels, the whole deal. Well what my cousin forgot to mention, is that we were going to stop over in East LA to this authentic Mexican fast food place called King Taco. Loving every taco and sopa, I wasn’t sure how Kelly would take it. As we drove up to the older and more culturally diverse location, I noticed that there were a lot of people. Though it was nighttime and not the best area, I thought well, nothing will happen because look at all the people.

Shannon decides to get in line, since Kelly and I cannot order for ourselves in Spanish, and we decide to slip inside and go to the bathroom. That’s when the real fun began. The very first second I walk inside the bathroom, I look around and see that there are about five chola- looking girls, a little older than me, congregating around the stalls. Trying not to freak out too early, I don’t make eye contact but of course can’t help but stare at their Dickie pants, wife- beaters, red lipstick, and penciled-in eyebrows. I can feel them up-and-downing me, looking at my ridiculous dress. This is definitely a type of Mexican girl that I’ve only heard about. Immediately closing the bathroom door behind me, I take a couple breaths and hope that Kelly is not noticing the danger that we possibly could have walked into.

Thinking about the Jack Lopez essay, "Of Cholos and Surfers," I probably should have just been calm and cool, making myself to be on just the same level as the cholas. But it was a little hard to do that in a fancy dress and heels. I probably wouldn’t have even made it out the door if the girls had decided to pummel me. As all these thoughts go through my head while I’m in the stall, I gather myself, take a breath, and walk back into the war zone -- the sink. I barely speak to Kelly, hoping my eyes would tell her to stay calm and don’t act to Valley girl or obvious Orange County native.

Once we are both ready to leave, I lead and give a quick grin to at least acknowledge the cholas. Surprisingly, they just look at me and move aside to let us out. As soon as we reach the freedom of the public restaurant, I take a deep breath and ask Kelly what she thought of her first chola encounter. She had no idea what didn’t but could’ve happened.

--Jessica Fernandez

You Can't Be Serious...

I HAVE a weird habit of reading the newspaper at least five times a day or more. It's not a bad habit to have because I do update myself with the latest news and opinions. A couple of days ago, on latimes.com, I was excited to come across an article called, 'La La Land,' now the dictionary definition of Los Angeles" by Carolyn Kellogg. According to Kellogg, the Oxford English Dictionary redefined Los Angeles. The Oxford English Dictionary, as of March 24th's updates, Los Angeles became:

"la-la land n. can refer either to Los Angeles (in which case its etymology is influenced by the common initialism for that city), or to a state of being out of touch with reality- and sometimes to both simultaneously".

Professor, I remember you saying that it was your pet peeve for Los Angeles to be referred to as "La La Land". I couldn't fully understand why that was, but I think I do now. "La La Land" shouldn't even be in the dictionary, especially the Oxford English Dictionary. When I first read this article, I wondered why people dubbed Los Angeles as "La La Land", making it almost seem like the myths of Los Angeles are true. As an Angeleno, I can say that Los Angeles is one of the best places to live; however, it's not a place that is out of this world or a place that is not in touch with reality... I think the term, "La La Land", belongs in the urban dictionary website and completely out of the Oxford English Dictionary.

Here's the link for you to read:

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/jacketcopy/2011/03/la-la-land-now-the-dictionary-definition-of-los-angeles.html

caption: night shot of colorful downtown, los angeles

credit: astig, flickr creative commons

The Exiles

LAST night we watched Kent Mackenzie's short student film, "Bunker Hill -- 1956," a meditation on the notion of gentrification and erasure as we've been discussing in class.

The video below is the trailer from the longer film that grew out of it, The Exiles, a documentary that follows a group of young Native American men and women through the streets of Bunker Hill right around the moment of the neighborhood's twilight.

It's definitely worth checking out for more of that vanished L.A. vibe -- and the DVD is even available at LMU's library.

-- L.G.

Kevin's Theory: Raw or Cooked?

OR

TONIGHT'S class, for those of you not in attendance, brought a guest visitor: Kevin McCollister. His images brought a mixture of emotions. The variety of portraits and other scenes from the city only reasserted what I found to be his most compelling words: LA seems to be one of two things, “raw or cooked.” Before he even began to explain, images began forming in my mind. Raw = no effort, no makeup, no money, no designer handbags, no designer jeans. Cooked = Hollywood, video cameras, editing equipment, touch-ups. There is certainly a divide in people’s interests here, yet why are there not more magazines with all of these “raw” images if so many people seem to be interested in it, like I feel (at least I think I feel) so many of us were with Kevin’s images this evening? Why do we still feel the urge to buy a Glamour magazine rather than one located perhaps on the bottom shelf of a newsstand, one that would most certainly project these untouched images that would send us “ooohing” and “aahing” instead of photo shopped pictures of Olivia Wilde throughout the pages of Cosmopolitan.

Los Angeles, as we have studied, is divided in more ways than one. This metaphor for the division: raw vs. cooked is particularly intriguing to me. We always say, “natural is better” yet do we really mean that? Do we act on that instinct? It seems hard to hear in this city, the City of Lights, like we just read about. This city that is one giant movie set. How will we ever fit in if we are not cooked? I too, am unsure of this contest, this pressing question. Some of you might be more resolute, more stuck in your raw ways. But, I am hoping, there are others who are confused by this as well. Who would have thought we would be asked to compare the City of Angels using kitchen vocabulary? Today, we see people whose Facebook pages boast more than 2,000 pictures of themselves. Would you say those are raw or cooked? Are your pictures raw or cooked, and are you o.k. with that? Would Kevin find you someone he would want to take a picture of? Like professors always say after asking this sort of probing question: “there are no wrong answers.” And, there aren’t. Just a thought to ponder on before the much needed Cesar Chavez break tomorrow…

--Katie Mollica

Photos:
http://beverlyhillshoneys.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/Olivia-Wilde-Cosmopolitan-april-2011-Magazine.jpg
Kevin McCollister - http://eastofwestla.com/

Living on a Set

ON Saturday as I drove back to Los Angeles from Orange County I was anxious about my upcoming week. Unfortunately, when I am stressed about things that derive from school I usually place this transgressions alongside LA. The fact that I can flee to my hometown whenever I want to escape the hustle of bustle of my schoolwork and the city has always been comforting. However, making the return trip is always a bit of a struggle. Naturally, it seemed fitting that I would hit all sorts of traffic. Now, I take the 105 for most of my trip to school, no traffic is never too much of an issue compared to other freeways. But on Saturday there must have been several accidents that made my trip less than pleasant. I was itching to get back to school and off the road as fast as I could, where I had a fun weekend planned before my intense week. When I got closer to LAX I noticed there was zero traffic of any kind on the other side of the freeway. Trying to get a good look without compromising my driving, I saw a large truck with people sitting in the back.

My first instinct was that it was an accident, but I quickly realized they were filming something. Now, I may come off as someone who isn't LA's 'Biggest Fan', but I can't help but get somewhat giddy when I stumble across something being filmed. It IS one of the reasons people are drawn to the city, isn't it? Briefly seeing the setup was strange. The camera equipment surrounded a vehicle, making it look more like a car design gone wrong. Further ahead, staged out in various lanes, were about ten cars all parked. I assumed they were waiting for the "go-ahead" to start driving. We often think about "extras" walking around in movies, but not many of us acknowledge the extras who have to actually get behind the wheel.

All in all, this minor instance proved to turn my spirits around slightly. Where else could I be where something like this could happen? Nowhere. The city may frustrate or annoy me at times, but it is instances like this that sometimes prove to be gratifying, giving me some pride to say I live in LA for most of the time. This may be a silly comparison, but its like those Sour Patch Kids commercials on right now: "First they're sour, than they're sweet". I just need to take more of these "sweet" moments to heart and open my eyes to what Los Angeles really can offer despite my frustrations.

-- Reilly Wilson

(photo by payton chung via flickr creative commons)

Kevin McCollister's L.A.

QUICK REMINDER that Kevin McCollister arrives tonight to talk about his project East of West L.A. Remember: Please come with at least one question for him about his work, the blog, the city etc. He will bring some images, take us on a tour of the site and tell us more about his process.


(photo by kevin mccollister used with his permission)

R.I.P. Elizabeth Taylor

HOLLYWOOD star and American film legend, Elizabeth Taylor, died last week of congestive heart failure at 79 years old. She was a glamorous icon of Los Angeles. Two-time Oscar winner, she made over 50 films and dated many of Hollywood's leading men. She was known for her dating life, beauty and stardom, but in the second part of her life it was her activism against AIDS that garnered noteworthy attention. The sad death of this legendary woman marks "the end of an era," says Barbra Streisand.

Elizabeth Taylor was an extremely beautiful and giving person. I loved her as Cleopatra the most. Her spirit seemed so youthful all the way up to her death. She was still seen around, wearing her fabulous clothes and jewels. Yet she also made a huge contribution to AIDS and that is probably the greatest legacy she left behind and what she will be celebrated for. I aspire to be like her someday: still having fun and looking great at an old age but also having done something amazing for the world.










-- Claire Ensey

credit: Los Angeles Times

The Militant Angeleno

TROLLING around the web, I noted an item that L.A. Observed posted last week via a site called, "Militant Angeleno" about the changing appearnece of street signs in L.A.

We Angelenos notice such things. We endure so much change that, well, it makes us a little more than prickly about the things we expect will remain fixed and constant:

The things that identify us, quite literally our markers.

Road signs.

The M.A. begins his post, thusly:

Have you noticed the new Los Angeles City street signs lately? The Militant has!

You can find them along the 1st Street corridor in Downtown Los Angeles, in the Civic Center and Little Tokyo areas. The aluminum signs are slightly larger than the current city street signage and have "wings" on the top and bottom, displaying the City Seal on the top wing and the block number and direction on the bottom wing.

These signs aren't all that new; they were first spotted in June of 2009, like the Main Street sign pictured above left. You would have expected The Militant to do a post on the signs back then, but he was too lazy-ass to do it. wasn't sure whether it was some sort of "pilot project" (as the City is prone to doing) or whether this particular signage style was supposed to be unique to the Civic Center. Some more information was needed.

This week, though, The Militant noticed more of these signs popping up - this time outside the Civic Center, like this sign on 1st and Alameda.

When he first saw the signs nearly two years ago, he thought they were kind of strange, mainly because of their UFO/Chevrolet logo shape, but admittedly, they have grown on him. They're large, and have larger lettering, which means they are more visible to motorists and pedestrians (and cyclists, too, of course) alike. Second, they are the first Los Angeles street signage to acknowledge the City of Los Angeles outright. Very important in this region of nearly 90 suburbs, satellite cities and unincorporated areas, of which street signage is the one of two tell-tale ways to know exactly which city you are in (calling 9-1-1 and seeing which police department shows up is the other, but The Militant doesn't recommend you do that...).

It's a great post which goes on the outline the history of the street signs here -- eras, shapes, colors. Finishing that post, I found myself skimming through other posts and appreciating not just prism but the voice: passionate, humorous, specific and informed by fact and history.

Check it out.

-- L.G.

(image "shotgun-style street sign," credit: keith justin gallagher via flickr creative commons)

People of Urth

WITH its delicious (albeit overpriced) food, trendy coffee drinks, and prime, curbside location in Beverly Hills, one of my favorite places to people-watch in the city is Urth Café. A friend of mine and I traveled down to Melrose last week for some lunch and some window-shopping, and as always at Urth, we got more than an eyeful.

One of my favorite things to do whenever I eat there is just to sit and watch the eclectic crowd that is always bound to be dining on the small, iron patio furniture and listen in on their conversations. There is always a woman with a miniature French bulldog feeding it scraps of her $30 lunch under the table. There are always the movie industry people with their brief cases tucked under the table and ignoring the person across from them for whatever is so enthralling on their Blackberry or iPhone. And there are always the Beverly Hills housewives who require two tables, one for their lunch and one for the pile of shopping bags filled with designer items that they purchased before working up an appetite.

This time there were two 6-foot tall, wafer-thin models, who pushed their untouched mixed green salads around on their plates while discussing an upcoming photo shoot. There were two men on a blind date next to us, awkwardly trying to make conversation by comparing diet strategies. There was also an extremely tall, longhaired man in knee-high studded combat boots and a large top hat who appeared to be doing a Slash impersonation.

However, there were no celebrity spottings, as there so often are at Urth. That is, until about halfway through our lunch when both of us looked up from our Boba teas to see Jesus walking down the sidewalk. Yes, that’s right… Jesus. He had long brown hair and a full beard and wore the traditional Jesus-like white robe with sandals. He was even carrying the Bible in one arm and blessing all of the customers eating their lunch on the sidewalk. I guess it just goes to show that in this eclectic city, not even the trendiest café is off limits to anyone. Not even the son of God himself.

-- Megan McMurtrey

(photo, urth cafe, tiarescott via flickr creative commons)

Space and stuff

PASSING through the Mojave Desert, one would not intuit a population of space travelers. "I thought we left the space cases back in LA...", one wonders as the hour and some drive from home base quickly closes. The barren landscape is fitting, evoking a Martian colony, complete with the surreal, stunted Joshua Trees that could’ve been an attempt at organic toilet scrubbers. This ground has become a playground for those massive companies in the city who need a bit of space to stretch their wings, as well as a refuge for the engineers more intent on rocket building then beach days and club nights.

Amidst the expansive desert is a group of engineers attempting to conquer the ultimate desert, the entity we call Space. Xcor Aerospace is a company determined on sharing the space experience with non-astronautic civilians, for the bargain of $95,000 (Virgin Galactic, the only competitor, charges double that). The project has been labeled Lynx, a reusable launch vehicle (RLV) powered by rocket engines that will enable suborbital flight (flying roughly 60 km above sea-level, still within the Earth’s gravitational pull). Besides having the vantage of seeing the Earth’s curvature and an unfiltered lens into space, suborbital flights hold the possibility of rapid transportation across our world using the Earth’s natural spin as a speed boost; as in, breakfast in Los Angeles, lunch in Paris, dinner in Tokyo. Superman style.

--Weston Finfer

East of West L.A.: Kevin McCollister's City of Angels

OUR guest this Wednesday night will be Kevin McCollister -- the eye and imagination behind the website, blog and book -- East of West L.A.

I first encountered McCollister's work via a friend who thought there was "something about it" that I would connect with. McCollister was photographing Los Angeles, but a Los Angeles that looked, my friend said, "out of time."

When I sat down to take a deeper look, paging though the images on his blog, I saw what he meant. The L.A. that McCollister was photographing in a meticulous way -- on foot, every weekend, day and night -- was one that felt not simply unique but personal. Not personal to him -- but to the viewer as well.

Much of it is visual poetry.

I'm writing about McCollister and his blog, East of West L.A., for a new magazine called, Boom, published by UC Press. I spent a couple of weekends wandering around downtown Los Angeles with him so that I could get a sense of how he works. I was less interested in the mechanics -- shutter speeds, aperture, ISO -- more interested in how he related to the city as a subject, and how he interacted with the people who inhabit this place.

Many of the themes we have been exploring in this course -- migration, immigration, erasure, vanished L.A., -- shimmer up in McCollister's images of street musicians, drifters, abandoned lifeguard towers, emptied-out storefronts, rainy terra cotta walkways on Olvera Street. What he sees isn't the postcard or tourist book version of L.A. but something else -- something quiet or overlooked.

Here's an image from the second day we spent threading around Chinatown. Not what you would expect:

McCollister takes us deep into the city's psyche; he reveals the minute working parts: the train yards, the farmacias, the bus stops, the hints of things raveling at the edges. There's beauty in all of that hard work and survival.

Take a look at his website and the blog and come to class with one question for McCollister about his work, about his life, about Los Angeles.

-- L.G.

photos: Union Station and Sunset (Chinatown), by Kevin McCollister from his website East of West L.A. (used with his permission)

Voice -- Chavez Ravine - Eviction Day

Residents Evicted From Chavez Ravine
~ An Exercise In Voice ~


This photograph tells me it takes a lot of men to tear a woman from her home. It tells me that history is often diluted by the way people see it – in heaps of black and white; never relevant. This photograph tells me that some police listen, some silence, and a good reporter stands back and lets news happen before them. This photograph tells me that the good guys are white, the bad people not, and the Angeleno sky blue all the while. This photograph tells me to listen to histories that have come to pass, like the beachgoer remembers the tide by its massive coastal wavelength. This photograph explains why the Dodgers suck, and its because their franchise grew on a now splintered staircase, a once hardwood deck, and a junkyard of broken memories. This picture evokes a sense of social justice from somewhere within me, something that perhaps has for too long been dormant, suppressed by the desire to reach, and reach, and attain. This photograph tells me that people leave their homes kicking and screaming. This photograph tells me to look for the subtle, to elaborate on the nearly invisible, and create a set of circumstances on which a reader might hang his hat. This photograph tells me to Google search it’s name, print it out in color, and re-analyze. This photograph speaks to me in so many different ways, it challenges me to tap life from the still like a fish from the pond, like yolk from the membrane; to anticipate where the subjects will be in .01 seconds, to literally predict the future and be content with being incorrect. This photograph tells me that an illegitimate voice would misrepresent these people who remain frozen in time like Dr. Evil. It tells me that depth is not 3-dimensional, not necessarily associated with the amount of ‘craze’ in an image, but with the amount of perspective one can inject into an image. It tells me there is something to tell, and tell I shall, until I shall not.

-- Mr_Cavalier

CHAVEZ RAVINE

The first thing that comes to mind is image. From the beginning, Los Angeles has been all about its image and how it is portrayed in order to bring new residents and get more revenue. The poor and close-knit community of the Chavez Ravine did not fit this image, and being that it was in close proximity to downtown Los Angeles, which was supposed to be the center of all that was great in the city, it was not acceptable. Instead, a brand new housing project plan was developed and the families of Chavez Ravine were sent eviction notices. When the housing project was axed and the Los Angeles Dodgers bought the land, a small number of residents were still there because they refused to take the cash payments and leave. This particular photo is of Aurora Vargas, forcibly taken from her home by the LAPD. Other photos from that day show her children sobbing while she is being dragged out.

At what price did Los Angeles become Los Angeles? The Dodger Stadium was another greedy ploy to bring tourists and make money but the question is why here and couldn’t they have found another piece of land in the rapidly growing city? Unfortunately, once they found an excuse to get rid of this ugly “shantytown,” they couldn’t have done it sooner. The importance of forcing the city to be this shiny, movie-like dream world full of perfect people while shoving the lesser immigrants into a corner seems unreal. Sure, they gave the families money and offered them first choice in a housing project that never happened. But they never acknowledged the people or the area as a community of generations of family and friends that was above all, their home.

The way these people were treated reflects the fact that they were never cared about by city officials or boosters or politicians. They needed a way to get them out and that was all. In a city booming with business and people, it seemed as though all anyone cared about was cashing in on the gold that was Los Angeles. These families had been living in the city for generations and they grew up in it, but in the end the city outgrew them. They were pushed aside to neighborhoods where officials believed they would fit in more, away from downtown and the beloved Dodgers stadium.


The irony of it all is that the stadium is now a staple of Los Angeles and everyone loves the Dodgers, the all-American baseball team. While there is nothing wrong with this, it is saddening to know the history of how the stadium came to be. After years of building a city on the basis of perfection, it is still not perfect today. There are beautiful areas of Los Angeles as well as completely ugly and ruined areas. Not only do “white Protestants” live here, but all kinds of cultures, races and ethnicities. That is one of the most unique things about this city, its diversity, and the undeniable fact that people have never stopped living here because of it.


The city has not decreased in population or size since it’s beginning; rather it has increased and gotten better. Los Angeles has had a bumpy history and those who took part it in were probably not proud of all the things they did to get it here. Yet, I think it is safe to say that it’s a better place today because everyone is still here, bad areas and all. The corporate giants and corrupt city officials couldn’t completely kick people out even if they did force them out of their homes. While different types of people live in certain areas and their respective neighborhoods, they are all part of the same city.
--Claire Ensey

(photo via alef.net)

Voice -- The Road to Hollywoodland

HOLLYWOODLAND

The idea of “Hollywoodland” has always seemed to evoke fond sentiments and nostalgia of Los Angeles’s previous life. The name itself seems to say it all: Hollywoodland. Not just a destination on a map, but a ‘land’, creating a sort of mythology behind it. But the Hollywood we know today seems to differ from the Hollywoodland that once was. The famous letters remain resting on a hill, yet the ‘land’ no longer exists. Even though this four minor letters have disappeared, more developments have taken its place. Rather than the depiction of an isolated Hollywoodland hills at the end of a dirt road, today we find the Hollywood sign to be surrounded by shops, tourists and vehicles. This all takes away from the simplicity of where this sign once was viewed from.

The Hollywoodland sign in the picture represents the idealized Hollywood, perhaps what was even planned for. It could be a destination for many yet still maintain a professional amount of simplicity. It appears to be a desirable place where you can leisurely walk and take the surroundings of a city that is still in the cusp of development. Where only two vintage cars took residence, you would now found vehicles of all sizes lined up for rows. Where patches of grass once were you may find a coffee shop or tourist kiosk. The Hollywoodland that was once a “city on a hill” for many has now become engulfed by itself. Yes, the final four letters were lost to an accident, but it seems to be symbolic in a sense – four letters down, how many to go until Hollywood is indistinguishable from how it was first intended? Many may continue to view Hollywood as it stands today, four letters short, without really acknowledging the way the city once was.


TINSEL TOWN
The iconic image of the “Hollywoodland” sign represents both a sophistication that never existed and an attitude that still permeates the area today. Originally an advertising gimmick for the expensive new track of houses on the nearby Hollywood hills, the sign has become such an important part of L.A.’s identity that public donations were gathered in the mid-2000s when it was announced that the letters needed either a facelift or removal since they had deteriorated to the point of danger. “Hollywood,” as the sign now reads, stands out a brilliant white against the green hills that are its backdrop.
Both the word and the sign itself have an image that is hard to define. To most non-California natives, Hollywood is a magical city in Los Angeles where starlets both work and play. They imagine that the sign announces the border of this city where movies are made and the elite are privileged enough to live. The reality is very different. Hollywood is not a real city – it is as fake as the sets of the movies filmed on lots nearby. “Hollywoodland,” the housing district the sign originally announced, has made way for newer and flashier properties in the true L.A. fashion that even the grandest is not grand enough. Though the majority of films and TV shows credited to Hollywood are actually filmed throughout the vast Los Angeles County, the sign will stand for the ability to sell an image, and idea begun by the L.A. boosters in the late 19th century and perfected today by countless talent agents.
-- Andi Edgett

Voice -- The Four-Level

FOUR LEVELS INTO MY HEART


The four level interchange immediately annoys me.

It irritates me that I have to look at it via aerial view, because I’ve sat in it first handedly. My grandma and her friends refer to it as the “four letter” interchange, but this is what Los Angeles traffic does to some people. It drives elderly women to use four letter words to describe their roadways. When I think about what I’ve learned so far in this course, about how freeways created pockets of living spaces and how they allowed us to only come into contact with those we wanted, I begin to see that the 101 and 110 coming to a head showcases this beautifully. This is a beauty that can only be described with concrete and polluted inhalation. Literally people coming from all directions, north, south, east, and west, are forces to sit in traffic next to one another and absorb each other’s company, even if it is from the comfort of your own Jetta. And what happens when we allow these people to “mingle” on the grid-locked freeways? They brandish weapons over lane-changes and scream inexcusable phrases that force the blood in their carotid arteries to nearly burst. We must really love our neighbors.

It is so easy for me to quickly be harsh on my fellow Angelenos. I describe them as brutish savages that are willing to fight for a stop in the carpool lane. But I must acknowledge that I am not above them. Allow us to remember my initial reaction to the picture: annoyance and irritation. Maybe I should work on my own anger issues, but until then I will continue to put on my blinker a mile and a half before I actually need to get over in order to ensure I make my exit. Hand gestures and honked horns aside, the sweeping lanes of infrastructure could be incredibly calming to the right person. I guess I’m just not that right person today

-- Hailey Hannan

FOUR-LEVEL INTERCHANGE

In the center of the urban jungle that is downtown LA, the 101 and the 110 freeways flow into each other like colliding concrete rivers. Horns and sirens make up the music of the four-level interchange as millions of commuters chug their way through the clutter of the crowded lanes. BMWs and Mercedes mix with old VW buses and big rigs, showing the true diversity of the city. In a city that is so spread out, this is the one place all Angelenos are forced to come together. Though everyone is heading off to their own corner of the city, for these few hours in the morning and afternoon, everyone from all walks of life gathers on these cement pathways.


For some, the highways provide escape—a passageway to another alcove of this amazingly diverse city. Hop on the 110 to travel downtown to the ultra-urban LA Live center. Take the Marina freeway down into Santa Monica or Venice and stroll along the boardwalk. Cruise down the 101 to take a tour of the film studios in Hollywood. No matter where you are in the city, entertainment is just a car ride away.


For most however, the highway system is a nuisance—an eternal headache in an otherwise ideal metropolis. Hours upon hours are spent with a foot on the break, banging on the steering wheel, fuming in an unmovable pod of frustration. Because of the densely packed roadways, appointments are missed, plans are canceled, and people are left waiting. “Traffic” is not an inconvenience, but rather a fact of like in LA.

-- Megan McMurtrey


PICTURE

Every level represents different ideas, mentalities, life styles and values. A four-level freeway doesn’t need an explanation because it speaks so loudly on it’s own. Yet once zoomed in, all those cars on the freeway represent different people who are after different things. Driving east a mother going to work, driving west a student rushing to get to class on time, driving north an explorer wondering where the freeway leads, driving south a human being living life. What’s interesting is not the difference in their agenda, but how they all use the same freeway to take them where they want to go. They are all different people but have found a way to “share” the freeway, share LA.

The four-level freeway in Downtown Los Angeles represents how residents of LA are able to work together, yet be after completely different things. The freeway is a visual of how LA is separated, as each level represents a different way, different lifestyle, but they are all LA residents. They all live in LA and although most may complain about the traffic going on, they don’t leave LA. The freeway represents the chaotic elements of the city, since there are four levels of freeways. Four. That symbolizes how different LA really is; no one part is similar to the other as none of the four levels go the same direction.

-- Talin Manooki



THE "FOUR LEVEL" -- DOWNTOWN

Don’t be fooled by the first look of this grey maze of freeways. It is not just another lifeless picture of boring infrastructure, but an intricate design or maze, if you will, for not only cars but people to get to where they want. A place where desires and needs are put in one direction, but can take many twists and turns. It comes in the form of low bridges, high ramps, and different sized underpasses, and stands as really the most picturesque of all the freeways of California. Of course the Pacific Coast Highway has the ocean view and beach breeze, but it is no comparison for the “four level”, which is full of magnificent columns that could hold up the world if it had to.

The maze that is this freeway, could almost act as a metaphor for life. One where there are many opportunities and directions. Most likely, like the cluster of traffic also creates, takes a long time to finally arrive at that original goal. But it is attainable, and not only attainable but one can view so much more while on the road to that goal. They can see other traditions, sample other culture’s foods, ask for directions from a native, or simply get lost and possibly go a route you never knew existed.

The piles of cement take on a 3-D look that pops off the page, inviting anyone to take on the adventure and join the hundreds of other people that are probably on one of the freeways at this very moment. There are plenty of buildings to pop into and people who are waiting to tell their story and possibly help in achieving yours. Are you coming?

-- Jessica Fernandez

(photo via wikipedia commons)

Voice -- The Great Pier Fire

LOST BUT NOT FORGOTTEN

This picture gives me a glimpse into a world that I never knew but somehow miss. It introduces the Pacific Ocean Park to me while at the same time taking it away. It is common to not understand the importance of something until it is gone, and I believe that to be the case here. One day during the second week of its opening the park’s attendance number was greater than Disneyland’s. Families appreciated having to pay only an admission fee and still get to ride the fun ocean themed rides that were available to all ages. Similar to my experience with this photograph, the experience of this center for fun, entertainment, and a home for sea creatures came and then quickly disappeared.

I put myself on the Santa Monica beach where this picture was taken and I can imagine how my five senses would be burning along with the fire. My eyes damp with tears at the sight of the only tangible evidence for so many memories being destroyed. My ears hear the mixture of waves lapping calmly while the sirens frantically roar their way closer and closer. I can smell the wood burned smoke and it smells so good but makes me so sad at the same time. I can taste salt on my tongue from the ocean and its useless freshness; the water surrounds the scene yet does nothing. I feel the wind coldly blowing on my face and I can’t decide whether I have stared long enough and it is time to go, or if I need more time to process my nostalgic thoughts and release them to burn with the flames.

I’m sad that what was once a place of happiness for so many can be forgotten so quickly and there’s nothing to be done about it. The truth is that this fire brought closure to a park already lost. Despite it closing down a few years before, it was no longer serving its intended purpose. A big junkyard playground for the neighborhood kids to graffiti and litter on is what it had become. Fire can physically destroy but not mentally erase, and the memory of this park will forever hold its own importance to those who knew about it.
-- J, Garcia

A PARK IN FLAMES

The park was ablaze.

From miles away, the children, teenagers, and adults who once looked forward to spending their free time at the Pacific Ocean Park now watched their leisure melt like the popsicles sold on the boardwalk on a scorching California day. What caused the fire? Park operators are still unsure and rumors consuming the surrounding neighborhoods, those residents who capture views of the park every day, bounce back and forth between gang related debauchery and a simple mechanical error sparking a small flame that went unnoticed until consuming the majority of the pier.

The park looks beyond repair, as the flames last evening engulfed not only the amusement rides but also the vendor booths, games, and food stands leaving nothing but charred boardwalk, unsafe for anyone to even wander upon. Pacific Ocean Park had long been suffering from cases of bankruptcy. Families who visited the pier left shaking their heads as more and more amusement rides hosted “Closed Until Further Notice” signs. Perhaps the fire came from angry creditors, infuriated with the park’s attendance drop. Assembling and rioting that the “POP” executives were swindling them of their money and rushing the park after hours with matches in their hands and fury in their eyes. Did they not stop to think of the kids who still depended on that park for after school fun? For only 90 cents, kids treated themselves to a day at the park instead of a day on the streets.

Now, the streets are all they have, for Disneyland lies many bus rides away and suddenly rocks and sharp objects have caught their attention rather than mazes and roller coasters. The fire has not only demolished part of California’s history but it has also shattered many young Angelenos past and future memories of the pier.

-- Katie Mollica

PACIFIC OCEAN PARK FIRE

Tonight the lights from Pacific Ocean Park are void of joy and void of excitement; they bring with them a sense terror as we gaze at the jarring site. Sounds of carnival games are replaced by a cracking of wood. There are no couples huddled together for warmth as they watch the faint stars twinkle over the water. There is no laughter and no excitement. From here, the roof of the carousel is little more than a dark silhouette against the flames. The end of the pier is still visible, but the flames look as though the water is fueling them upward as the win pushes inland.



On the beach, officers prevent us from venturing closer, so we dig our into the cold sand - staring. Sirens blare, signaling the arrival of firemen. Thick smoke crawls up my nose the way ants pour out of an ant hill, but I can’t tear my eyes away. An elderly woman near by coughs, muttering about the incompetence of the park owners. She seems certain that teenagers “were up to no good”. I thought that was a nice way to put it; if that’s the case.



Fires seem to ravage nearby land constantly, but not on the Westside. Here, the concern of natural disasters holds little weight. With the exception of a few new high rises, any threats of fires or earthquakes seem distant. Living beside the beach, a stone throw from carnival rides and cinnamon covered churros, threats concern only neighbors and the vagrants passing through. The park burned once before, but not like this. The flames and smoke make any visuals of the rides impossible and even the carousel is gone. With an eerie image of the fire and the water burned into my mind, I walk home, tossing unredeemed tokens in the trash.


-- Sarah Kruberg

SNAP CRACKLE BURN

Help. I’m burning in my own contradiction. I thought technology, our own stuff, would be sufficient to enhance the grasp over nature. The juxtaposition is fitting. My fire, your water. Yin yang we are all dust. Let me burn, let me burn, this world mandates my demise. Construct on the face of adversity and prepare for the downfall. How many times must a toothpick splinter under nature’s footprint? Fall into disrepair to be attempted anew? Are you wholesome enough to withstand the test of ages? Try me.
I burn for the immigrants. Those people seen but not heard. Is there a noise beneath the surface? Would you notice my struggle if it didn’t light the sky with an ashy haze? Or would your saline womb lull you to passivity. I think you thrive on an image heard but not seen. Everyone tells you what to wear, how to act—but that’s not you. You aren’t a sideshow attraction to garner interest in outside lands and novel characters. You are the outside. Stop looking in for a minute and appreciate your position on the verge.

Burn. The wildfire wakeup. Impels my dream state. To burn. Under ancient stars. Around new stars. We are stars. And so we burn.

My smoke distorts what is real. You see wood (from Big Sur) under metal structures (from mines to mind) twisted in shapes of a reality less lived.

My ash covers what is not.

-- Weston Finfer


(photo via wikipedia commons)

Voice -- Case Study House #22

THE CASE STUDY HOUSE

As these women discuss their eventful day of cooking and cleaning, the city of Los Angeles shines below them. The bright lights inside and out reflect upon the glass windows that surround them. There is no shielding themselves from the outside world, and the inhabitants of LA cannot hide themselves either. Built on a hill overlooking the vast and occupied land, there is a chance that most people would say this house has quite a view. On the other hand, I would not. My audience should be the people I am speaking with, not the city as a whole. There is no privacy, no escape.


If I were to guess using these women, the furniture, and the lack of lights in the city, I would say this picture was taken in the late 1950’s to early 1960’s. By the looks of these women, their attire, their posture and their stance, each points to this picture being taken decades before this one. The woman “relaxing” in the chair looks older, wearing a dress fit for a homemaker and her hair out of her face. The woman sitting against the window looks younger, more obedient. Her legs are tied together like that of a proper queen.

Trends tend to make a full loop from one generation to the next. The contemporary furniture that is shown in this picture proves this very point. What was fashionable then can be seen in family rooms around the nation now. And it’s not because they were hand-me-downs from their grandparents; they bought these brand new and well overpriced. In this picture, the furniture is neatly placed in a clean living room that can be seen by thousands of uninvited guests.


Although it may seem like a lot of lights, I feel that if this picture was taken recently, the city would be giving off an even more intense amount of light. Throughout the decades, Los Angeles has been developed and it will grow even more. At this point, I bet they couldn’t imagine the city getting any bigger, having more people, but it seems as if this city will never hit full capacity.

The camera is perched upon some sort of balcony of the side of the house. I would enjoy not only learning about this house, but also seeing pictures from different views so I could get a sense of the house and figure out the mystery that is the floor beneath the camera. Since all of these points come merely due to my own logical deduction of the photo, I wouldn’t be completely surprised if the majority of my speculations were wrong.

-- Jackie DiBiase


CASE STUDY HOUSE

Looking off into the horizon, clouds, snow-capped mountains, luminescent waves, and lustrous lights can all be seen by the naked eye. The walls, erected by sheet glass allow for this luxury and incredible view. Perched atop a steep hill in the Los Angeles area, the Case-Study house lives on in its 50^th year of existence. Built after the Second World War, the house was modeled after the ideology of modernism and the modern residential blueprint. The house itself emulates the persona of Los Angeles at the particular moment in time as well as today’s day and age. Being one of many similar homes constructed for the sole purpose of providing cheap living for the modern American, the Case Study house (in particular number 22), has been photographed, filmed, and toured throughout the ages.

This idea of a translucent structure gazing across the landscape of LA reflects the concept of LA being this powerful and majestic city; however, like the houses themselves, this perception can be shattered with the slightest movement in any direction. Of course, being nestled atop a perilous knoll overseeing the fast paced lanes of the freeways and even possibly the sailboats floating across the sea, this house seems ideal to any real estate connoisseur or affluent family seeking a potential investment. But, to their dismay or ignorance, the house itself cannot provide refuge for any living being. Because, simply put, the house was not built for living but rather for show. Just like the great city, the house represents a picture-perfect scene, much like a movie set or magazine spread.

The family whom the house belongs to have been quoted saying that almost every weekend, the house was used for the sole purpose of tours, photographs, and possible sets for upcoming films. The furniture within the house was all for show and at the end of the day was returned to the designer store, leaving the family with the pre-existing used and furniture not acceptable to show in “real” life. The portrayal of the Case Study houses illustrates the beautiful Los Angeles only in a theoretical sense. Yes, to the tourist the city might be as glorious as the view from the Case Study house, but what lies beneath the foothills and adjacent from the effervescent ocean is the real Los Angeles. The ruined streets and outdated buildings all encompass the notorious city.

From what meets the eye, the glimpse of the Case Study house demonstrates the modernistic approach of building this spectacular structure with the most impalpable tools and materials. As its 50th year of existence approaches, many wonder how the glass walls, concrete floor, and lifted perimeters have survived throughout the decades. To be quite frank, the only reason the house has lasted to the 21st Century is due to the renovation made in order to keep the edifice standing. The fragile building continues to live on with the times, becoming stronger and stronger with each tour and photograph taken.

-- Chelsea Vogt

(case study house #22, credit: julius schulman via 26.media.tumblr.com)

Silver Sunset

THIS is all a fashion show. A place to see and be seen, no doubt. I wasn’t aware the line outside the Echoplex on Tuesday, March 29 was this year’s Dior Spring 2011 runway, but lucky me I had a ticket. The show was headlined by Salem, creators of the bass-extending genre Witchhouse, though the hit of the night was the preceding group Light Asylum, a set equally tripping in laser light visuals and subsequent mesmerization by vocalist, keyboardist, and percussionist Shannon Funchess.

The vibe was cool and the girls were hot, but nobody was dancing. How could you to a bass slowed 200x a normal frequency? A freeze-frame pantomime I suppose, but here goes the epic head nodding. As the event was located in Silverlake, a detachment from the neighboring Hollywood scene surged as witty banter and eclectic personalities ruled the streets.This side of town remains an enigma to me, though I feel more at home with each visit amongst the ever-present 20-somethings dancing to their own offbeat drums.

A surreal dreamstate sustained the entire show; the fog and schizophrenic bouts of fluorescent lights gave a Vesuvian effect as the tracks blended under the hum of haunting vocals from Red Wing jerseyed Heather and shawl wearing Jack, the culminating buzz coming through hat and hair in mumbled raps by John. The show ended as it existed--as if played from the backstage manager’s IPod--while the group vanished behind the smokescreen as the beat droned on. This is the sought-after aesthetic, the don’t-give-a-fuck drugged out candor akin to The Velvet Underground. You can’t leave the show without having questions, concerns, and opinions about what exactly just happened--something between a mindgasm and total body meltdown. You also couldn’t have left the show without spotting horror-core rap phenom Tyler, the Creator of OFWGKTA ordering hot dogs, extra ketchup as he cruised out in a murdered out Benz.

LA Day/LA Night

AS YOU might imagine, there are numerous pictorial books about Los Angeles, each striving to in some way to fix L.A. within the borders of the frame. One of the newer photo studies, LA Day/LA Night is an aeriel examination of Los Angeles in diptych. Photographer Michael Light takes on Los Angeles infamous bright, astringent light in an attempt to look at the city as if through an unblinking stare. He juxtaposes that "telling" with images that are shot after the sun has disappeared from the sky and thus exposes Los Angeles' other face, that shimmering sparkling blanket of light.

From the book description:

The greater Los Angeles area covers 4,850 square miles—the size of a small country—and holds almost 18 million people. Perhaps America's most massive human creation, it has been legendarily vilified and celebrated in equal measure since its inception. Is Los Angeles the face of the apocalypse, or an ultimate paradise at continent's edge—or both? With LA Day / LA Night, Radius Books continues photographer Michael Light's ongoing aerial examination of the arid American West by bringing together two opposing views of the city in a double volume set.

LA Day stares directly into the sun, washing the metropolis in blasted, relentlessly specific light. LA Night drifts over it in an ever-darkening electric dream, until the vast city below reverses and begins to signify the starry night sky vaulted above. Referencing Ed Ruscha, Peter Alexander, Julius Schulman, and writers from Philip K. Dick to Raymond Chandler, LA Day / LA Night continues Los Angeles' rich cultural legacy of examining its favorite schizophrenic subject—itself.

Note the Raymond Chandler and Julius Schulman references (Schulman shot the Case Study House photo some of you received in your envelope).


Also, the introduction was written by our recent guest, David L. Ulin.




-- L.G.

(photo: from the book la day/la night)

Noir City -- Hollywood: The 13th Annual Film Noir Festival

JUST wanted to let you all know that on April 1st, American Cinematheque kicks off its annual film noir festival in Hollywood at the iconic Egyptian Theater. We've been talking about L.A. as celluloid backdrop for crime, cynicism, corruption during the 40s and 50s, and this series appears to be offering a big dose of all of that -- but of course in stylish, Hollywood fashion -- stunning shadows in crisp blacks and whites.


From the website:

The venerable NOIR CITY film festival returns for its 13th year, presenting an astonishing array of rarities mostly available ONLY on the big screen. We’ve scoured studio archives to assemble a feast of film noir that can only be consumed in its original 35mm format, in the glorious darkness of a vintage movie palace!
This year’s program features several new prints preserved by the Film Noir Foundation and the UCLA Film & Television Archive, including rarities HIGH WALL, LOOPHOLE, THE HUNTED, STRANGERS IN THE NIGHT and THE DARK MIRROR. In fact, 23 of the 28 films in the series are not on DVD! This may be the last chance to ever see these extraordinary films on a big screen.

Check the Cinematheque's website for details on dates, times and prices.

--L.G.
photo via american cinematheque

"We Tell Stories . . . " -- Jean Baudrillard

WE'VE ALL SEEN it from above but what do you see when you look down at the maze of light?

"There is nothing to match flying over Los Angeles by night. A sort of luminous, geometric, incandescent immensity, stretching as far as the eye can see, bursting out from the cracks of the clouds. Only Hieronymus Bosch's hell can match this inferno effect. The muted fluorescent of all the diagonals: Wilshire, Lincoln, Sunset, Santa Monica. Already, flying over San Fernando Valley, you come upon the horizontal infinite in every direction. But, once you are beyond the mountain, a city ten times larger hits you. You will never have encountered anything that stretches as far as this before. Even the sea cannot match it, since it is not divided up geometrically . . . . Mulholland Drive by night is an extraterrestrials vantage point on earth, or conversely, an earth dweller's vantage point on the galactic metropolis."

What do you see when you gaze down at Los Angeles?

(photo: los angeles at night; credit, b.mune flickr creative commons)

Why So Stormy?

A storm swept over Los Angeles this weekend, and apparently is here to stay awhile longer. The rainy weekend was not a warm welcome for Spring, but that is very typical of Southern California weather, lately at least. The weather this winter was like a roller coaster, sometimes I forgot what season we were even in. Now, it is supposed to rain again starting today, but the question is why?

The unpredictable weather of Southern California is becoming a phenomenon, and Los Angeles is not the place to go for pleasant weather anymore. Why is this happening? Some say global warming, which could be possible since the weather is strange everywhere, not just in L.A. We have had so much rain over the past year, and the showers over the weekend were at a record high. The rain and wind caused new mudslides in Malibu that had to be cleaned up immediately so residents could drive places. It will likely snow on the Grapevine and will have to be closed temporarily.

The storm brings a sense of fear and wonder because of the recent earthquake and tsunami in Japan. The weather affects many aspects of our lives, as seen earlier this week with the power outage at LMU. After the raging storm of the weekend, I saw branches and trees all over the streets. Literally, I saw about three trees that were fallen over in a short drive. Power and traffic are the two main things impacted by storms, but mood and the way you dress are smaller factors to consider as well. No one really wants to do anything or leave the house on a dark, rainy day, which leads me to believe that this weather is no good for productivity. Not to mention, if it's raining one day and not raining the next and then raining again--how do you know what to wear?

--Claire Ensey

photo credit: MSN News

Urban Compass

ON Fridays I become a human jungle gym. The minute I step foot into the gym the children that participate in "Urban Compass" feel the need to drag me to a game of basketball or jump rope. "Urban Compass" is an after school program for elementary school aged children that takes place in Verbum Dei High School in the Watts area. The website for the program states that the objective of this program is to give children "an environment that challenges our young people to envision a rewarding future." With the youth of LA joining gangs at earlier ages, "Urban Compass" hopes to give these kids a safe place to go that focuses on their abilities in a positive manner. Tutoring, sports, enrichment and teamwork activities and field trips occur in order to engage them in a positive learning experience that takes place off the streets.

I became involved with this program due to my service organization, Crimson Circle. Being able to spend my Fridays with these kids has truly been a rewarding experience. It makes me hopeful for the future of Los Angeles. These are innocent kids, many who could be urged to join a gang or fall along the wayside. Hopefully, with programs like this kids will be able to hold themselves accountable and be proud of their accomplishments. It truly would be great to see more programs like "Urban Compass" develop throughout all of Los Angeles, despite levels of gang activity that are in each individual city.

Sometimes it is hard for me to visually see the hardships and poverty when I arrive in Watts on Friday afternoons. How can this really be part of the same Los Angeles that I attend school in and people travel to from around the world? It is important that these people and these areas of the city are never forgotten or overlooked. If anything they should have more of our focus. All it takes it a little bit of attention to a young one to show them someone has faith in them to succeed.

-- Reilly Wilson

(photo credit: jan tik via flickr creative commons)

The Incognitos of LA

LIVING in a city where celebrities are revered and paparazzi are everywhere, it’s hard for say, a professional athlete to keep a low profile. Though not on the A-list, athletes are paid well and everyone including celebrities love to take a quick pic with a really tall and athletic guy. Acting like it’s everyday they get to sit courtside and chat it up during half time.

Growing up in Southern California, my dad has groomed me well to love the Lakers. He even talks about the times when he went to LMU and the Lakers practice on our court. While I was getting packed for my study abroad semester to Spain, my dad made sure to have me throw in my Pau Gasol jersey because as he put it, “everyone loves him there”. Much to his surprise, the Spanish are not really obsessed with celebrities like we are here.

Living by LAX and being an avid US Weekly reader, I always see the latest celeb to grace the baggage claim area and be swiped away by an awaiting town car. Knowing the paparazzi are waiting to get even the smallest glimpse, celebrities are forced to either throw on a ridiculous incognito outfit or dress to the nines. Neither of which can be too comfortable on a long flight. The other night, a rare event occurred. Having not seen too many celebrities up close and personal, I was graced by the enormous presence of Mr. Pau Gasol and his friends. Dressed in my pajamas with two friends, I did not know what to do. My friend Lauren was screeching because she was the first to see him from her car window. In a quick instant, I decided that I would talk to this guy whose jersey I rep occasionally. I mean, why not? Sharing this with Lauren, she shoots out of the car, calling his name as if they are good friends. Jogging behind her, I walk up to the largest man I have ever seen in my life. TV does not do him justice. Deciding that I do not need to be snapped in my pjs, I take Lauren’s picture. Though Pau does not look ecstatic, he gracefully takes a picture and says goodnight.

Scurrying back to our car, the last in line for In N Out, we leave happy. I wonder if this is what the paparazzi feel like everyday? Though these are just people too, it was a bit of a rush. I think it’s really ironic that though tourists drive around Hollywood all day in hopes of a mere glimpse of a celebrity, it is in our everyday restaurants and shops that these people exist. Because really, everyone has to eat.

Check out the proof: --Jessica Fernandez

(photo credit: jessica fernandez)

A Travel Guide to the Past

YOU might just want to check out this little time-machine jaunt: University of California Press recently republished Los Angeles in the 1930s: The WPA Guide to the City of the Angeles.

On his blog, L.A. Observed, Kevin Roderick reports:

My favorite new Los Angeles book — the one I took driving with me on Saturday — is a guidebook from the distant past . . . [the] guide . . . works 70 years later as historical snapshot of Los Angeles the way it was at the cusp of World War II — neighborhoods, places of interest (the ostrich and alligator farms on Mission Road), recreation (45 bowling alleys), literature and familiar restaurants like Musso & Frank and El Cholo.

For those of you who are interested in spending a little bit more time in L.A.'s booster past you'll find some of that atmosphere, no doubt, but as well, the book does more than glance on many of the themes we've already explored in class -- boosterism, vanished L.A., the nascent film industry, Julius Schulman and Raymond Chandler, just for starters.

For more of Kevin's post and a great photo tour of Downtown L.A. and its built history -- go here.

I've already ordered mine, I'll let you know what I think in the weeks to come.

-- L.G.

Harry Chandler's Employee Paper

AMONG Ourselves, a paper for the Times employees and affiliates first printed in 1924 and is still published today. Despite Chandler, and his father-in-law's, firm stance against unions, the executives provided a warm environment for their employees. One of the new additions to the Times building on Spring and Second in Downtown was a cafeteria, among the many revolutionary additions to the workplace. This front page depicts Harry Chandler and hangs in the Times cafeteria beside many more issues. Though the LA Times functions with a very different sense of ethical responsibility, Chandler's legacy remains a respected cornerstone across the country and around the world.

--Sarah Kruberg

"What's New, Pussycat?"

I walk into “What’s New, Pussycat?” not really knowing the proper etiquette. My studio arts major roommate fervently begins to scribble detailed notes into her ultra-trendy notebook. Since I, for the life of me, cannot figure out how to turn the flash off my camera, I am stuck looking like one of those tourist oddballs that does not follow any social boundary. I may as well be wearing exposed black socks with sandals.

I have come to the Torrance Art Museum to see their exhibit “What’s New, Pussycat?” It’s supposed to be about how art in Los Angeles has developed, and the work spans from 1969 through 2010. However, the majority of the work comes from the 1990s and 2000s, which doesn’t make it as historical as I would have hoped.

I’m not an art critic, so I do not recognize any of the artists or the work, but my roommate tells me that many of the artists were really famous in the 1960s and 1970s. However, it isn’t the old work that’s on display, it’s a composition of work that was completed twenty years after the fact. I kind of start to feel like I’m watching VH1 and some washed up celebrity has a new series, an attempt to revitalize a fallen career. (Think Flava Flav) And now, in a different way, I’m watching these re-runs, but in art form. It’s not because I’m thoroughly enthralled, but because it’s just entertaining enough to where I feel content. Content, not excited.

Nothing about this exhibit really excites me, and for this I’m probably being too harsh. I don’t know a thing formally about art, besides the one art history course I took at LMU. I’m one of those girls who had a Van Gogh copy in their room in high school and thought it actually meant something.

Several pieces though, were actually interesting. While they were not breathtaking, I appreciated them because they offered some deviation from the status quo. One white and gold piece looked incredibly expensive, and when I read the materials used for its creation, I found that it was made with styrofoam and painted with the same kind of paint that is used on cars. It looked chic and modern, and was made with the same kind of material that pads my overstock.com deliveries.

The title of the piece is “Mercy.” Mercy for what or whom I ask? Initially I think it may be in reference to the environment; the artist is using recycled materials and therefore lessening his “footprint.” However, my sarcastic side soon emerges, and I chuckle to myself. What if he means to ask for mercy on the exhibit itself? Or specifically for this piece of art? Maybe he too knows that many of these artists are past their prime, and therefore I should have more compassion.

I can’t help but think these thoughts though. The exhibit is entitled, “What’s New, Pussycat?” Well, Pussycat, from the looks of things, not much.

--Hailey Hannan

Amoeba Music

NOT just a playground for hipsters and musicians, also a fantastic rainy day activity.

SO what do you do on a rainy LA day? That’s right… the movies. But if you’re headed to Hollywood, the famed Arclight cinemas are right next to Amoeba music, a great place to explore, kill some time, and stay dry!

What started in Berkley as an independent haven for music lovers amid corporate giants such as Tower and Virgin is now a landmark in Hollywood as well. They’ve outlived the majority of their corporate competition, have incredible customer service and offer everything from CDs, DVDs, vinyl records, and cassette tape to posters and books. I thought record stores were a thing of the past, but after nearly an hour I could barely tear myself away! For $9.28 I walked back into the torrential rain with four new CDs, random selections from different sections of their clearance racks. If that’s not an economical and horizon-expanding way to spend a rainy Sunday afternoon in Los Angeles, I don’t know what is. They have bands play in the store regularly and the walls are covered in signed memorabilia.

To top it off, the expansive collection of DVDs rivals Blockbuster, and although you can’t rent these movies, the majority of their collection cost as much as a new release weekend rental. And when you’re through with it, bring it back – Amoeba will buy used CDs an DVDs any time.

--Sarah Kruberg

Photo Credit: Sarah Kruberg

Verisimilitude in L.A.: The York

THIS from my friend Jesus Sanchez's blog, The Eastsider L.A., about the Lincoln Lawyer and why it works. As we know, finding the "real" L.A. can be a difficult task and trying to make a movie that in some way captures some piece of that essence presents its own challenges. A lot of it came down to the places that people in the neighborhood go, not necessarily the destinations that we bring tourists to -- like this one:

The Lincoln Lawyer - The York - Watch a funny movie here

"The new film “The Lincoln Lawyer” starring Matthew McConaughey and Ryan Phillipe takes advantage of Eastside scenery and some neighborhood venues, including The York, a Highland Park bar and restaurant. The film's crew spent about two days last August in the York Boulevard gastropub to rig up lighting and shoot the scene shown above, said co-owner Ryan Ballinger. Not only did the production company ask to shoot scenes at the bar, they also asked to use The York’s name in the movie, Ballinger said:

Brad Furman, he director, believed very strongly in using Los Angeles locations that he liked in particular. He was really easy to work with. He had asked, ‘Do you mind if we call it The York in the movie?’ and of course I didn’t have a problem with that at all, especially because it wasn’t where Ryan Phillipe’s character was going to pick up hookers … I admit, it was awesome to see the sign for The York in an establishing shot."

For the full post and comments, take a trip over here to Jesus' blog. It's a treasure trove of neighborhood news for Silver Lake, Echo Park, Los Feliz, Highland Park, etc.

-- L.G.