Jackie DiBiase - Genius Loci: "My Essence of L.A."

Empowerment

All work and no play.

Sunglasses at the Getty
Photo Cred: Jennifer Rhodes

Nowhere to Grow

LAXadaisical

-- Jackie DiBiase

Hidden Los Angeles Comes to "Telling L.A.'s Story"

I'M MOST excited to confirm that  our guest this week for our final class will  be W. Lynn Garrett who runs the website and Facebook page, Hidden Los Angeles, an online space dedicated to "going beneath the surface", an attempt to unravel the various stubborn stereotypes of Los Angeles.  It is a fitting way to close the semester,  as Garrett has been dedicated to writing a deeper story via interacting with her online community.

She's created an evocative virtual neighborhood -- one that in many ways is as lively, celebratory -- and sometimes contentious -- as the city is itself.  Angelenos have strong opinions about what their city was, is and should be and so, consequently, Garrett has often been among other things -- mediator, therapist and good old fashioned booster.  Daily she offers up a mix of quizzes, videos, mini-histories contests and between all of that frequently throws out topics for conversation across the L.A.' s virtual basin.  Since the site's inception, her motto has been, "Look Deeper" -- because, as we all now know, it's a full time job going head-to-head with these overriding myths that have come to stand as written in stone definitions for Los Angeles.

Take a spin around the site and its Facebook incarnation too to see what Garrett's got going this week.

Come prepared to ask her some questions about how she juggles this huge task and how she keeps all the information fresh or what signifies *her* L.A. She's delightful. You'll enjoy her.

--  L.G.
(image via hidden los angeles)

Arteries of Memory: Wilshire Words

Part 1.
What is it about Wilshire

that makes it the equator

of our fair city?

Is it the Berlin Wall

of Beverly Hills

& South City?

The great wall of

housekeepers &

porcelain pretty?

Wilshire is glamorous

& gritty, quintessential

all city...

It personifies all

that is Los Angeles..

pockets of people

pack the boulevard

cars cars cars..

Monuments & mendicants

mix on Wilshire,

single room occupants

keep moving..

The itinerant immigrants

works Wilshire as it's

lifeblood..

Wilshire is it's source..

the rapidly moving artery

in the city's big body

All aboard!!

Cops & Protestants,

fake i-d's & intoxicants,

transplants & land grants

Wilshire's plan enchants

the populace..

A smorgasbord of

textures & sensations..

Flavors,

architecture, culture..

Wilshire is a river

like the Nile

or Mississippi..

Massive!!

Wilshire is a small

galaxy of Villages,

pockets, neighborhoods..

Is it Rampart Koreatown

or Historic Filipinotown?

One Wilshire

MacArthur Park

Pico Union

MTA west to Western

Old jazz musicians who

played at the Cocoanut Grove

used to drink early at

the H.M.S. Bounty..

Park Mile extends out

of Koreatown

I walked down Wilshire

on stretches east of Crenshaw

glad to be on the boulevard..

One man in a sea of cars..

the big old buildings make

me feel small, concrete canyons

glass & steel..

Wilshire is where fathers & sons

drove to talk about the world

the speedway opens up

past Beverly Hills

ask Christian Slater & Axl Rose..

All aboard: Wilshire!!

Wilshire is where

dreams are made

& tragedy plays

side by side..

Hundred thousand

dollar car$ wait at

red lights right

next to guys panhandling

on the side

sitting on the busstop..

Green light & their off

but for just a second

their energy intersects..

Wilshire is the crossroads!

213 323 310..

Three different area codes,

taco trucks & TV episodes

Wilshire explodes art deco

skyscraper boulevard

all the way to the ocean

about 16 miles..

Wilshire Words

there aren't enough

words for Wilshire..

Part 2.

The street that married

us damn near buried us,

Wilshire is where it

all started..

She lived a block north

of me off 6th & St. Andrews..

I was on St. Andrews

close to 7th..

We met at Wilshire

in the middle..

Interracial lovers

& racist gangsters

crystallize vibes

on street corners..

We started hanging out

often once we

discovered how close

our places were..

Sooner than later

she was living with me..

They say relationships

can be affected by geography..

We lived in a small apartment

with not enough money

& not enough patience

or capacity to even stand

a chance of lasting..

Lodged between Wilshire

& 6th, the Versailles Apartments

where we lived was also the home of

James Ellroy in his work

My Dark Places..

She had a New York

State of mind

on California time,

an eager beaver in

a bread line,

equipped with a mind

too fast for public transit,

Wilshire went slow,

then fast,

she couldn't stand it..

On the night of one

of our last fights

you left me at the Temple Bar

you took the car
& I walked down Wilshire
you found me 20 minutes later,
I was damn near to West LA,
I almost caught the MTA..
You wouldn't let me get away.. 

-- Mike the PoeT aka Mike Sonksen

Spoken Word Artist, Tourguide, Educator, Journalist, Historian

(image: west on wilshire via "noirish L.A. http://forum.skyscraperpage.com/showthread.php?t=170279&page=37)

Crash: Fact or Fiction?

LAST week after our discussion in class I decided to rewatch the movie “Crash,” and what I found about that movie is that no matter how many times I watch it, it will never cease to make me cry. After watching how the people in the movie treat each other, how they spurt out racial slurs, how they stereotype one another, and how they each hold so much hatred toward their fellow Angelenos, it made me wonder… is Los Angeles really like this?

Watching the movie, I sat with my hand over my mouth in shock, disturbed by how people treat their fellow human beings. But the worst part about watching the movie, is that it’s not entirely fiction—some version of these stories can be seen all throughout the city. The movie can at times feel overwhelming or exaggerated because all of the stories are compiled into one… but that’s just Hollywood’s interpretation.

But despite this, a lot of the scenes in the movie ring true. From where I grew up in Orange County I saw plenty of racism. In Orange County, the white Protestant is king and all of the other ethnicities are clumped together in a blur of “us vs. them” mentality. However, in L.A. there is a different type of racism. It’s not just us vs. them, but it is everyone vs. each other.

I noticed when watching “Crash” that it wasn’t just Sandra Bullock’s character who was racist towards her Hispanic maid, or Matt Dillon’s character to the black woman he pulls over. But throughout the movie, there are all different forms of racism. Different ethnicities are racist towards each other, and some are even racist towards people of their same race.

Normally when watching this movie, I get caught up in the emotional scene where the Persian storeowner almost shoots the young girl, or the scene where Matt Dillon saves the life of the same woman he assaulted. However, this time I began to look more closely at the relationships between the characters and how close they come to other situations I have been witness to in the city. In particular, I noticed the relationship between Terrence Howard’s character, Cameron and Ludacris’ character, Anthony. Though they are both black men, they are pitted against one another because of their socioeconomic standings, and in an emotional culmination of events, Cameron tells Anthony that he is an embarrassment, not only to him but to himself.

While you might not see blank bullets being fired at children, or women being saved from burning cars every day in Los Angeles, I think occurrences like the exchange between Cameron and Anthony is a common one in this city. Though we like to think of ourselves as accepting and tolerant in our little collegiate bubble, the streets of L.A. are filled with hatred and prejudice, maybe not to the level that “Crash” would lead us to believe, but more than we would like to admit.

-- Megan McMurtrey

(photo via http://www.iwatchstuff.com/mt/mt-search.cgi?tag=dvd&blog_id=1)

No Lifeguard on Duty

This image comes from a series of photographs, made by J. Bennett Fitts, that focuses on abandoned pools. This one from a series shot in and around Los Angeles. This one's titled: "Abandoned Hotel in the Los Angeles Area"

It really does go head-to-head with those turquoise-blue pools we all fly over when we approach or depart LAX. Different meditation on the L.A. dream.

-- L.G.

You Are Listening to Los Angeles

EARLIER this week I heard a fragment of a segment on Marketplace, a show about finance and business which airs over the Pasadena public radio station, KPCC. But instead of stock averages and updates on the Nikkei averages, what floated out of the speakers was this sort of ethereal, ambient synth noise, all downtempo atmosphere, but on top of it was a live radio/scanner feed via LAPD --  in real time. There is something actually pretty lovely about this weird, incongruous grouping -- a 21st Century Music for the Spheres that syncs-up with the white noise and monotone status updates phoned in via remote. It's a conversation starter and a nice party mix actually. The project is aptly titled:  "You Are Listening to Los Angeles"  Click here to be transported somewhere down there on that glowing grid. 

photo: observatory view by Marcy Reiford via flickr creative commons)

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)

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)

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)

"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)

Battle: Los Angeles Trailer

This is the trailer for the film "Battle: LA". Some of my students were talking about the movie in class on Monday and how "great" of a film it was. Apparently I live under a rock because I hadn't heard of it prior to their discussion. "Miss Hailey" they whined, "you have to see it!"

Even in the trailer there are some authentic shots of Los Angeles, especially the Santa Monica area. Has anyone seen this? Looks pretty violent to me... What do you think?

"Criss Cross": The Trailer

AT ONE point, you could find the opening sequence with that bumpy ride over downtown with that gorgeous shot of City Hall as centerpiece, but alas no more.

This trailer is pretty good on its own, it sums up the mood and feel. Steve didn't see it coming . . . but he should have.

"Wrinkles in the City"

THOSE of you tuned in might have taken in by the huge photos pasted on buildings all around Los Angeles they are part "Wrinkles In The City". A project of French artist JR.

Phantom Galleries LA, a local outfit, invited a few downtown-L.A. arts district types to the T.E.D. talks. Here's a little video taste from a local artist I know:



-- L.G.
video by qathryn brehm

La Migra

GROWING UP, Los Angeles was the older brother I never had. LA seemed cooler, rawer, more exciting, slightly dangerous, and above all, different. Visions of grandeur suffocated my mind as I imagined living the A-life: cruising Sunset with the next big thing wrapped around my arm, jaunting to the hills for 360° parties, lazy beachside living on some private Malibu stretch. This seemed just a taste of the good life I hungered for. The longer this notion ate at my stomach, the more the pangs turned to nausea.

My quiet perch in San Diego left me yearning for a new outlet. I constantly ridiculed my father’s exodus from LA thirty years prior, unable to fathom any motives for leaving a seeming paradise. I felt I was riding the bench while these Angelenos were stealing all the showtime. But my perspective was lost in the haze to the heart of LA.

As a child, LA only really began when I drove past the Holiday Inn (now Hotel Angeleno). Visits to Grandpas’ house firmly rooted the LA of yesteryear in my mind; living in a virtually unchanged Paul William’s home from the early 30’s kept the lonestar this-world-is-my-own feeling so fervently espoused by current Westerners (the same Range Roving patrons now set in their ivory towers). I want this return to simplicity.

My feelings are mixed. I hated this town my first full year in residence. I felt trapped, insignificant, someone else’s doormat. The overwhelming allure of the town hooked another baitfish, but I soon found my outlets of escape.

The 405 is clearly in cahoots with Satan. Though this devilish path hampers my daily travels and often is the number one scheduling factor, it is also the introduction to my sanctuary. More mixed feelings. Until I arrive at Highway 395, then the bliss takes the wheel and doesn’t stop for all the weeks spent on top of the world in my Mammoth heaven.

Los Angeles cannot be defined, much in the same way I cannot define my experience living here. It's a launching pad to the rest of the world, where a day's travel inside or out of the city leaves nothing to the imagination. I do know there is an exorbitant amount of bullshit to wade through, but I also know the reward of finding the perfect niche in this Renaissance land.

--Weston Finfer

caption: the erstwhile holiday inn @ the 405
credit: chase stone

Got Boosties?

CURIOUS how the mode of transport that laid the tracks for LA’s arrival became almost instanly eradicated from the city’s conscious. The Southern Pacific and Santa Fe railways of the late 19^th century brought the masses to the Holy Land, and all for the low price of $1. I like that, the idea of walking to the rail station with 4 quarters, maybe seeing a McDonald’s, pondering on whether to order a dollar burger or small fries and ultimately deciding on a trip to California. Obviously inflation plays a role in this dream, but c’mon, a buck is a buck. Adhering to the mirage quality that birthed and raised Los Angeles to its fantasy factory status, the railways planted a seed and quickly withered from the expanding streets run ragged by automobiles.

It’s a golden land, the Golden State, holy according to some latitudes, green by longitude. Opportunity exploded in the fertile basin, the ready-made canvas landscape beckoning a pilgrimage to paradise from notables in all vocations. An expatriate town if there ever was, LA has and continues to attract misfits, hopefuls, has-beens, will-becomes, never-had-a-chance’s, and the terminally-chillers. Writing about a town constantly evolving brought a creationist aspect to the author’s role in promoting the myth and aura of an oasis lifestyle. Drawing on memories of homesteads prior along with visions of grandeur allowed the collective imagination to know no limits, flowing into the architecture, art, and aesthetic of the land.

Maybe this is the apocalyptic land of lore. We run into the ocean, pants down, as hillsides quake into pieces and canyonscapes blaze in glory, all the while denying our existence in the face of losing another day to Death and begrudging another wrinkle to Gravity. Gladly, I submit to the femme fatale nature as the ongoing boosters hark a miracle that may or may not exist.

--Weston Finfer
photo: beverly hills hotel
credit: chase stone

haze

LOS ANGELES’ head is a bit fuzzy. It affects us all. From the lungs spew the smoke. And the addiction has passed to me, secondhand. I drink the sulfur and breathe the filter. Because it revitalizes me. I question why I do it. Every drag in makes the out that much harder. But it’s the questioning that moves me.

As I watch the sky shade from blue, to orange—the atomic descent—to pink, to purple, and the wonderful in-betweens that linger longer than the primary impression, night falls upon California’s chameleon city. First noticeable is the expanse of midrange building—cookie cutters from Hells Kitchen—that trick the eye into the monotonous maze of Sin’s suburb. This sprawl goes on for as long as the eye can see—correction, for as long as the eye is allowed to see. The margins become lost in the mist. This mist—or fog, smoke, haze—is untouchable, yet a part of us. It has permeated the city’s conscious, instilling the reality of a surface life. Looks to the horizon find a limited perspective, a 10 mile radius at best to asses the depth of this land. We fear what we can’t see. We fear the world outside our bubble. So we restrict depth perception. We view people for whether they model clothes or simply wear them; whether they get from point A to B or arrive in style; if their cash rolls or bounces; if their skin screams appeal, or just the first peel. The surface is a beautiful thing, for awhile. Then we become acclimated. From there, one can settle, or one digs deeper. I see you, shrouded, outlined, and willing to be defined. Your Otherness I shall conquer.

The initial ascent provides the means for uncovering what was always available yet constantly obscured. Hike the nearest mountain—you see the clouded seismograph stretching the margin—and observe the wishing well perspective that suspension grants. Look, the ants at my feet are you. Miles above sea-level these ants mimic your city life, and I really see no difference. What happens in the space between? Is that where the excess lies? Our pollutants crowd the air we cannot occupy, warping what was there with what we wish and wait for. Not east of Eden, or south or north, but above and below. The personal Eden is where we shall dwell. I would feel trapped by these barrenous mountains if I didn’t know how to climb them. But in actuality, it is us who have done the trapping. A civil detonation, pushing Nature’s limits back into nothing. The devolution of the natural evolves the artificial. It’s a yin-yang. Nothing is infinite until you realize it is everything. Back to the ants, which are no smaller than we, as we are dust on this planet, that is a rock in orbit, of which neighbors everything, trapped in nothing.

--Weston Finfer
photo credit, weston finfer

The New Italy, the New Spain, the New Athens

SAN FRANCISCO was known as the city but it was Los Angeles that grew immensely and steadily throughout the late 1800s and early 1900s. With the instatement of two rail lines into Southern California, Los Angeles began to emerge and flourish. At first, the “cow counties” were populated by a group of migrants made up of mostly white, middle class Protestants that bought into the spectacular marketing scheme that Los Angeles had to offer. By the 1920s, Los Angeles tied San Francisco’s population, but it was Los Angeles that had a secret weapon: space. Los Angeles spread across land from the San Gabriel Mountains to the Pacific Ocean, making it possible for the population to increase at rapid rates.

What boosted L.A.’s existence were the imperative connections it had. Journalists were added onto the railroad payrolls so they would have an incentive to boast about the “year-round sunshine” that came with living in California. It was these publicists that worked with city boosters, much like Los Angeles Times owner Harrison Gray Otis to promote the region. Even after Otis died, the Times collaborated with the Chamber of Commerce and the All Year Club to endorse L.A. as “the West Coast metropolis.” L.A. was an escape from the overcrowded East. People still tend to see Los Angeles as that. They leave their snow-filled hometown and retreat to the southern California beaches. When I go back home, I constantly get asked why I’m so pale, as if they think I spend every day under the bright California sun. I myself was disappointed after spending last summer in L.A. only to find that it didn’t live up to its reputation, that the June Gloom never seemed to end and the days at the beach were few and far between.

Being the spread out city that it was, Los Angeles was equipped for the arrival of the automobile. With this came the Auto Club and tourists, Disneyland and Magic Mountain. I would love to learn more about the influence the automobile had on the creation of the city. What I understood from what David Fine said in his book Imagining Los Angeles, was that the automobile did not have any influence per say, but rather the city was prepared for the use of them. It wasn’t until recently, as I was driving along the 405 with one of my California-native friends that I was informed about the car industry’s involvement in the making of the layout of the city as it is today.

If you look at present-day Los Angeles, you can see the clear separations of the different communities. Before the railroad came about, the city was made up of Mexicans, Indians, Anglos, and Chinese. There were plenty of racial conflicts, so the white Anglos took control of the land. They began to see the darker-skinned population as “dangerous aliens and foreigners” who, from the eyes of the Anglos, were a threat to the community and any progress that needed to be made. Because of their ignorance and racism, there are modern ethnic neighborhoods that have been extended from the past.

The history of Los Angeles can be seen in the fiction that was written during the time the city was being established. Although there is so much literature from this time, one must keep in mind that the writers were “outsiders, newcomers, visitors” to Los Angeles. Therefore, the majority of the written work was about the differences between the East and the new West. Displacement and estrangement played major roles in the fiction, the authors focusing on themes of “unreality, masquerade, and deception.” Although fiction, it is these themes that influenced the people of the time, bringing a whole new light to California. Unfortunately, the fiction of this time, and even the newer fiction that comes in the form of screenplays and movies, has become more factual than not. Hollywood has overtaken all of Los Angeles, becoming the image for how people are supposed to represent themselves. We have all taken on roles, characters of a movie that should be called Reality. Yet, despite all this, Los Angeles still holds some sort of appeal to those on the outside looking in.

-- Jackie DiBiase
photo: Close-up of Hollywood sign, Hollywood, California, USA
credit: Michael Dean Roberts