Cityscape: Which One is Real?

FOR many the notion, "streetlife in L.A." is an oxymoron.  Transplants comment often about how the sidewalks roll up so early here, or how we Angelenos will drive around the block to visit a friend, when really we could simply walk, or take six separate cars to one party when we could simply carpool in one.

Last week, we saw "D-Fens" trudging across a strange map of Los Angeles which in many ways  bent both the city's geography and its story. As well, the narrative fed the prevailing lore that "nobody walks in L.A." Indeed, the idea of a lone man walking the corpus of the city was evidence alone that he was mad,  or so thought the scrambled band of police officers tailing him.

Invented street life is another piece of L.A.'s odd story  We have  a lot of destination walks scattered around the Southland -- Third Street Promenade, City Walk, Americana and most recently L.A. Live As one of our guests, David Ulin, pointed out about the Grove, in the Fairfax District: "It's so strange that a place that people go to walk has a wall up against the real street, blocking its view of it."

All of it begging the question: "Why?"

I snapped these photos a few nights back at different ends of the city as I made my way from event to event and ultimately home. One is a "real" street and one is not. But even the "real" street doesn't look real. And I suppose that too is part of L.A.'s story.



photos: L.G.

New Style Boosters?

WHILE this picture won't make it into my final compilation, I had to share it by other means. I took this picture earlier this weekend in Hyde Park. Is this what "boosterism" has become to Angelenos? Calling on bilingual teens to make some extra cash via abrasive yellow paper? Moreover, who are the two teens that have called?!?

Arteries of Memory: The Streets of Los Angeles

IT'S a given: Certain thoroughfares in Los Angeles are so famous that it is nearly impossible to think about them without conjuring some larger-than-life, cinema-screen-size association.

That's what happens when your city is a movie set.

Mulholland Drive is known for its edge-of-the cliff beauty, its startling gemstone-lights views, but also for its snaky treacherousness if traversed with a potent combination of high speed and willful carelessness.

Nowadays, Sunset Boulevard feels less like a destination and more like an aging myth we still revisit and retell because we've become so accustomed to that ritual. Immortalized in movies and still the marquee draw on the double-decker tourist bus routes, the 24-mile stretch hasn't lost its power; it still beckons, luring the hopeful -- many of them teenage drifters who arrive in vast numbers via Greyhound or risky hitched rides.

You don't need a GPS to find some of the more well-traveled, high-profile roadways. Most everyone can point you to Hollywood Boulevard and its faux glitter Walk of Fame. Pacific Coast Highway, which stretches out, luxuriously along the gentle curve of coastline, offers its own set too-good- to-be-true promises. Looming just above that east/west thoroughfare, you'd find Laurel Canyon Boulevard, a winding rustic road, it's higher reaches associated with a certain era of barefoot and fringed Southern California musician. Much further east and angling south, Central Avenue powers along the city's working-class spine. In a long-ago incarnation -- before its reputation was scared by insurance red lining, poverty and violence, a short stretch of it played host to the West Coast's golden age of premiere jazz sounds.

Because we Angelenos spend so much time in our cars, traversing roads that carry us from one edge of the city to the other, the streets we travel most over time begin to gather complex, personal meaning. They recall a certain moment in our lives, a particular escape route or perhaps signify a road that was a route to a significant life transformation.

Even in our traffic-distracted state, we watch them change: they become narrowed or broadened or "beautified." They get closed-off and turned into gentrified "walk streets." They go from being secret shortcuts to being outed by Caltrans' fluorescent-orange flags and detour signs as viable alternate routes for any and all to plunder.

No matter. Somehow, they always seem to remain "ours."

Over the next few weeks, under the "Arteries of Memory" banner, a few guest bloggers will be reminiscing about city streets -- some famous, some infamous and some hidden slivers of afterthought -- and the side-roads of memories that they travel to when they find themselves passing over them.

You too might have an L.A. street that speaks to you, that transports you to a destination that isn't just a physical place, but a series of memories, a thoroughfare that evokes , stories, sounds, textures. Maybe you'd like to join the mix too. (It would be your extra credit "close-up.")

(please pitch via email, thanks.)

-- L.G.



(top photo: hollywood hills downward, by clinton steed via flickr creative commons
bottom: hollywood walk of fame via http://www.wildnatureimages.com/images%202/060309-015..jpg)

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)

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)

Banksy Writes L.A.

BANKSY, the British street artist, is at it again back in L.A. This popped up this week along a wall in Silver Lake.



And he's left his mark all over, criss-crossing the city -- Westwood, the Sunset Strip -- Seems there might be some larger message from him to us.

-- L.G.