The Ace in L.A.’s Art Deco Deck

The Lobby
Ace Hotel
929 S. Broadway, Los Angeles

The Renaissance that Downtown L.A. has experienced in the quarter century since I last haunted these precincts is astounding, and nowhere does it hum with such subtle joy as Ace Hotel.

The hotel was crafted from the gutted interior of the old United Artists building, and the architects only touched the grande dame’s Art Deco exterior sufficiently to restore it to its former elegance. The rooms manage to meld the period and the contemporary in a way that you almost want to give a name, like “Art Deco Revival” or “Art Deco Moderne.”

I walked into the lobby and was charmed instantly. The fidelity to the era reminded me of the corridors of the Wilshire-Ebell Theater or the Wilshire Boulevard Temple. The parquet floors, the arched doorways, the moldings, the iron trim, and the high ceilings above narrow spaces bespoke the architects’ determination to restore more than renovate.

True to its origins, the Ace is arguably less capacious in either room or public area than your average Courtyard, but the lack of opulence is more than balanced by its surfeit of character. To walk through her main doors is to take a step back in time and down in speed.

One is tempted to linger in the lobby, to dawdle over breakfast at the L.A. Chapter restaurant in the lobby, to set aside the email and to think, to breathe, to be in the moment. Sip the coffee. Read the script pages decorating the lobby wall. Watch the people walk by on the street outside. And listen to the sounds and echoes.

You may accuse me of wallowing in nostalgia, but you would miss the point. What is precious about the Ace Hotel and its anachronistic ilk is not a siren call to a supposedly better past, but their Zen-ish insistence that we eschew internet speed so that we may more fully occupy the moment.

Great Gold Rush Photos of San Francisco

Several dozen photographs from around San Francisco, all taken by George Robinson Fardon in 1856. If you have any interest at all in San Francisco – or if you live there – these will prove illuminating and delightful.

Source: Check Out This Trove Of Gold Rush-Era San Francisco Photography: SFist


Dark Swift

“Boys only want love when it’s torture.”

Taylor Swift.

Oh, Taylor. You have so much to learn.

Seriously, though, in one song, America’s reigning queen of pop has given us a teeny-tiny window into her dark side. The question that vexes me is, will she keep hiding it? Or will she just let go in a musical atomic blast of anger and vituperation?

Forgive me. I’m praying for the latter.


California Cuisine: Rolling out a Barrel

We are in Ojai upwards of twice a week (our son is in school here), so we are in regular need of someplace to pass the hours twixt, say, a parents’ meeting and pick-up time, usually during the day, but often at night. The entire valley is essentially a touristed but slow-growth artists’ colony: you won’t find a Starbucks on every corner or ample parking behind each block. Finding a comfortable, convenient nook removed from the visiting throngs is thus rather more of a challenge here than in say, Ventura or Santa Barbara.

In a hunt for such a nook, we found Barrel33.

There is little about Barrel33 from the outside to distinguish it from the other shops along Ojai’s main drag, so we almost missed it. We actually came in the side door, and as we did, it felt more like coming into a parlor than a restaurant. The room was dark yet lit warmly and softly from each table, the music relaxing and unobtrusive, the hum of conversations from each table barely able to mask the sound of our footsteps on the wood floor. The patrons were all local, casual, and unhurried, the atmosphere more Iberian than American. The decor, the architecture, and the setting were redolent of the Spain-in-the-New-World feeling that embodies the essence of the region. In short, we had found another rare piece of modern Spanish California, and we dropped into our chairs with the same kind of relief that you would feel coming into a cooled room on a hot day.

I am embarrassed to admit that I had never tried tapas before, but I don’t think that I could have chosen a better place to start my Euro-noshing experience. The wines and draughts are clearly curated rather than merely selected. Each seemed chosen both for the palette and as a subtle compliment to the menu.

And the food! We ordered the Mediterranean platter where the doumas, the hummus, and the babaganoush were all top-notch; a delightful Caesar salad; the incredible Blue Cheese and Pear quesadilla (which spoiled us both for any other quesadilla, ever,) and we finished with a chocolate souffle that melted like butter on our tongues. We wanted to try more, but found ourselves replete and happy, constrained only by the call from our eighth-grader telling us that the dance was over, and could we come pick him up?

Enjoyed over two hours, it made for the perfect date night with my wife. We will go back when school starts, the summer hordes have returned home, and when we have more time.

Barrel 33 Ojai
The Arcade Shopping Center, 308 E Ojai Ave, Ojai, CA 93023
(805) 646-1555


A Better Kind of Ride

My first amusement park was a gravel-covered block of unincorporated West Hollywood at Beverly and La Cienega  called Beverly Park. The home of a ferris wheel, a merry go-round, a smallish steel roller-coaster, pony rides, and a host of tamer amusements, Beverly Park was what I dreamed about on cool LA weekends when the boat and the beach were out of the question.

I’ll confess that I was more thrilled by the boats riding in a circle than I was the roller coaster, and I never tired of the park’s offering. it was a place where I could go where it was all about being a kid, where everything was designed, in the Disney-esque words of Beverly Park founder and owner David Bradley, to “bring life and laughs to people.” It was an innocent, almost naive mission, and Bradley succeeded admirably.

The park thrived for nearly three decades, until fatigue and rising rents compelled Bradley to close. It never lacked for patronage. Hadley Meares, a writer and historian, dis a superb profile of the park on KCET’s website where she hints at the park’s appeal as a salve for the consciences of fathers who, for whatever reason, had few opportunities to spend time with their kids or who simply lacked other alternatives. That’s no doubt true, but it’s never the whole story. Some families, like ours, went there because the kids loved it so much and pestered our parents until they relented and took us there.

Los Angeles lost something special when the park closed. In a metropolitan area that hosts four of the nation’s largest and best known theme parks, the closing of Beverly Park left a hole in the collective psyche. Over the past decade, that hole has begun to fill. The Balboa Fun Zone and the Pacific Park at Santa Monica Pier – and to a somewhat lesser degree, Belmont Park in San Diego – thrive because there is more to a great California amusement park than fear.

Because a great amusement park doesn’t need to be a competition to see who can ride the highest or fastest roller coaster. The goal of a great amusement park is not the incitement of terror or the adrenaline rush that comes with fooling your hypothalamus into believing that death is imminent; that goal should be creating a space that is safe for fun, joy, and escape. Upon that simple premise David Bradley built his life and two successful businesses and earned the gratitude of two generations of Los Angeles families.

It should incite no surprise that Walt Disney spent a fair amount of time sitting on the benches at Beverly Park taking notes, and he picked up on Bradley’s epiphany – or perhaps detected a kindred spirit. Walt and the wiser heads among his successors have managed to create, on a far larger scale, a place where not only children could enjoy being children, but where adults could do so as well without fear or embarrassment. My family have annual passes to Disneyland, and there are days when, perched beneath a shade tree in New Orleans Square, I wonder whether my son is just our excuse for coming to Disneyland and doffing our worldliness for a while.

Beverly Park could never lay claim to being “the happiest place on Earth,” but it was and ever shall be one of my happy places. I reckon that I am not alone.

Books as Mind-Altering Substance

I love books for a lot of reasons, but the erudite Rod Dreher has just given me another. Fiction does not just entertain and engage with narrative, it crafts our minds and changes the way we think. He quotes Elizabeth Svoboda‘s superb Aeon essay “The Power of Story:”

When story is at its best – as yarn-spinners like [Newberry Award-winning author Shannon] Hale can testify – its effect is expansive rather than nakedly persuasive. Narratives that tell us point-blank who we should be, how we should behave, are better described as dictates or propaganda. The most enduring stories, by contrast, broaden our mental and moral outlook without demanding that we hew to a certain standard. Whether they describe a young nurse risking her life to smuggle children out of the Warsaw Ghetto, a meek older woman who shows grit and selflessness after a surprising tragedy (Alison Lurie’s Foreign Affairs), or a hotel manager who shelters refugees marked out for death (Terry George’s Hotel Rwanda), they present us with an arresting alternative to the way we see the world.

She goes on at length to explain how neurobiologists have discovered that stories are actually capable of making the same changes to your brain that would have been made had you actually experienced the events described.

I’m going to ponder that as I decide what to read next. There is, buried within all of this, a hidden call for us all to avail ourselves of not only more reading, but better stories.