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rezendiNon-denizens tend to have this image of Los Angeles and surroundings as a vast, relentless sea of suburban sprawl leavened only by occasional clumps of relative density. This is basically accurate, but it leaves out the mountains which surround the LA basin - and the downtown.
Yes, Virginia, Los Angeles has a downtown. Neglected for decades, allowed to degenerate into a soulless forest of skyscrapers on one side of Hope Street, and on the other, Skid Row: not an abstraction but a real physical place, full of thousands of homeless, junkies, alcoholics, no-hopers, and the skankiest prostitutes ever. (Pause to shudder with revulsion.) Daily parking prices plunge from $30 to $3 in eight blocks as you move east; not because Los Angelenos hate walking (though they do) but because wealthy businesspeople would have legitimate security concerns at the cheaper parking lots. I felt slightly uneasy myself, after passing crackheads on the way down from my chosen el-cheapo garage, and then riding up on the elevator with another; these were the harmless enfeebled type, but where there's smoke...
And once upon a time this area was glamour and money, playground of the great and the good. LA's Broadway once rivalled Manhattan's, home to a half-dozen majestic theatres, ornate superluxury hotels, and architectural gems like the world-famous Bradbury building. A slow regentrification is now in progress; yoga studios, art galleries, and quietly expensive bistros are beginning to sprout in Skid Row; but still, a walk around the downtown is like a case study in urban archaeology, a hunt for the relics of the Golden Age. Enormous, palatial old buildings, with masonry that rivals the best of New York's, are occupied by cheap stores that reminded me a whole lot of Third World downtowns (in fact, at ground level, the district looks a lot more like Tijuana than like an American city, except Tijuana doesn't have near as many desperate rough sleepers.) Photos don't capture the feel, but all the same, have a look. And if you're here, or you visit, go see it for yourself. By day.
Beware: 6 megabytes of pictures lurk beyond the cut text. Shrunk to 40% for display purposes; I'm sure a little right-clicking will let you see 'em full size if you like.
What the heck is that halo thing?
Still no idea. Note the 'ADULT BOOKS' sign.
No idea when these date from, but the Cecil Hotel is still in business. Rooms are apparently cheap.
The Million Dollar Theater, yours for a song.
The Bradbury Building, one of the architectural wonders of the world. If it looks familiar, it's because you've seen it in a bazillion movies, notably Wolf.
Note the snowy mountains beyond the cross.
Murals leaven the urban blight. Yes, that's the Tyrell Corporation building to the left. (Actually the USBank Tower.)
That kind of stonework is typical on most large buildings in the area.
Onto the posh side of downtown...
...home to mystery history. Her murderer(s) were never found. I haven't read James Ellroy's famous novel yet, but it's high on my list.
Taken from the summits of the Westin Bonaventure's four towering elevators.
Angels' Flight, a bizarre, now-defunct, very short urban railway.
Yes, Virginia, Los Angeles has a downtown. Neglected for decades, allowed to degenerate into a soulless forest of skyscrapers on one side of Hope Street, and on the other, Skid Row: not an abstraction but a real physical place, full of thousands of homeless, junkies, alcoholics, no-hopers, and the skankiest prostitutes ever. (Pause to shudder with revulsion.) Daily parking prices plunge from $30 to $3 in eight blocks as you move east; not because Los Angelenos hate walking (though they do) but because wealthy businesspeople would have legitimate security concerns at the cheaper parking lots. I felt slightly uneasy myself, after passing crackheads on the way down from my chosen el-cheapo garage, and then riding up on the elevator with another; these were the harmless enfeebled type, but where there's smoke...
And once upon a time this area was glamour and money, playground of the great and the good. LA's Broadway once rivalled Manhattan's, home to a half-dozen majestic theatres, ornate superluxury hotels, and architectural gems like the world-famous Bradbury building. A slow regentrification is now in progress; yoga studios, art galleries, and quietly expensive bistros are beginning to sprout in Skid Row; but still, a walk around the downtown is like a case study in urban archaeology, a hunt for the relics of the Golden Age. Enormous, palatial old buildings, with masonry that rivals the best of New York's, are occupied by cheap stores that reminded me a whole lot of Third World downtowns (in fact, at ground level, the district looks a lot more like Tijuana than like an American city, except Tijuana doesn't have near as many desperate rough sleepers.) Photos don't capture the feel, but all the same, have a look. And if you're here, or you visit, go see it for yourself. By day.
Beware: 6 megabytes of pictures lurk beyond the cut text. Shrunk to 40% for display purposes; I'm sure a little right-clicking will let you see 'em full size if you like.
What the heck is that halo thing?
Still no idea. Note the 'ADULT BOOKS' sign.
No idea when these date from, but the Cecil Hotel is still in business. Rooms are apparently cheap.
The Million Dollar Theater, yours for a song.
The Bradbury Building, one of the architectural wonders of the world. If it looks familiar, it's because you've seen it in a bazillion movies, notably Wolf.
Note the snowy mountains beyond the cross.
Murals leaven the urban blight. Yes, that's the Tyrell Corporation building to the left. (Actually the USBank Tower.)
That kind of stonework is typical on most large buildings in the area.
Onto the posh side of downtown...
...home to mystery history. Her murderer(s) were never found. I haven't read James Ellroy's famous novel yet, but it's high on my list.
Taken from the summits of the Westin Bonaventure's four towering elevators.
Angels' Flight, a bizarre, now-defunct, very short urban railway.
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I Love L.A.
Date: 2005-02-02 12:35 am (UTC)Especially interesting is the Bradbury. I didn't see Wolf, and it's not exactly familiar looking to me, but there is something special about its appearance.
One of my only memories of LA downtown is seeing lots of homeless in front of a huge library in Los Angeles. One man in particular stood out to me, laying sleeping near the steps leading up to the library, with these big damp red areas on the bottom of his barefoot feet, as if he had worn through the soles of his feet.