Zanjas Follow Up

My Zanjas entry (9/24/09) generated two informative responses.  (The images, yet more shots of crenellations, are unrelated.) 

The first rejoinder from Double G: "My daughter attended Phoenix HS on Zanja (ditch in English).  There used to be a ditch from Washinton Blvd. to the ocean along now what is known as Zanja Street."

The second from Qualified Condition: "There is an portion that has been preserved along the Gold Line route adjacent to the Cornfield park--next time you happen upon the Gold Line have your camera handy on the westerly side as you enter the park. The Lincoln Heights/Cypress Park station also has a pretty decent art installation on the topic."

Transitional Columns

Transitional, the favorite catchword of the Architectural Historian, describes those works betwixt and between, when new styles are in their infancy, while elements of the preceding period endure.

These columns from the Edwardian period (and the Angelus Vista neighborhood), epitomize one such transition, from the decorative finish emphasis of the 19th century to the elemental, materials emphasis of the Craftsman period.

Heavily detailed Ionic capitals (as identified by the volute, or helix, a spiral scroll), crown relatively simple columns of (originally) unpainted brick, wood, and stone.

Zanjas

There is little remaining evidence of the shallow irrigation ditches, or Zanjas, that once carried water to parts of the city center.  A plaque here, a street sign there, a small stretch of channel along Figueroa Boulvard.  

Similar to acequias, these gravity chutes were originally earthen, lined later to improve performance amidst explosive growth.

Between the St. Vincent de Paul Roman Catholic Church and the Stimson Mansion on Figueroa Boulevard, a section of Zanja endures (image bottom).  Several brick lined sections of the aqueduct have been uncovered, or re-discovered, in recent years in and around Chinatown, or by MTA construction crews.

The Day's Details

Wall of Sound

The artery severing damage imposed by freeways is old news, cleaving into neighborhoods, destabilizing, imposing new and unsympathetic patterns of use.

Following the 1972 Noise Control Act, and its 66 decibel standard, many of these concrete marauders were outfitted with Soundwalls or Noise Barriers, producing a measure of separation.

Soundwalls are commonplace today, lining most interurban highways and byways.  Most, but not all.  Shockingly, an at-grade section of the 10 freeway, lies agape in Pico-Union, while further West (in West Adams Heights) an off-ramp pierces residential idyll.

Besides unmitigated sound, these defenseless neighborhoods are exposed to greater doses of harmful particulates, a debilitating visual excess, and a lack of protection from flying cars.

Jadedly, I assumed those susceptibilities were limited to areas with diminished advocacy; until, a showing on Cahuenga Terrace, in the rarefied Hollywood Dells (see image #3).  Wide freakin' open.  

Is the city to blame?  Partly, politically I'm sure, but the ultimate responsibility lies with Caltrans.  In reviewing the Caltrans Strategic Plan 2007-12, the usual spate of road building projects are detailed, along with public awareness campaigns on drunk driving, measures to protect fish during bridge construction, and  anti-terrorism efforts in ports.  Fifty seven pages and not a mention of soundwalls.  

What could be more important?  

Topless Turrets

Before the simplification of forms, turrets made corners a point of interest, emblems of spectacular craftsmanship and ambition.

Those architectural features most unique are frequently the most expensive to maintain.  Many turrets have been shamefully re-clad or beheaded--stripped of their essentials.

 The Witch's cap or Candle-Snuffer roof remains (second image), though the fenestration has been depredated by an aluminum skin.  

In high occupancy situations, sometimes turrets, meant to function as adjunct sitting rooms--offering the grandest views, are converted to closets.

Resourceless tradespeople often resort to "mummifying" conical forms, with tar paper or roll products.  

Adding insult to injury, most decapitations yield poorly flashed, flat-roof sections which hasten other (water-related) degradations.

Taaaammmmmalllllleeeeeeess

Street hawkers are commonplace in Mexico's 32nd estado, aka the eastern end of the Los Angeles coastal basin.  Vendors sell grilled corn, pork rinds, roses, even manure, from trucks, stands, handcarts and bicycles.  Most wide-spread of the "informal economic practices" are the tamale outcriers--typically women, pushing cooler or tamalera (steaming pot) laden shopping carts stocked with masa morsels.

The tamales come wrapped in corn husks or plantain leaves (a tropical variant), generally filled with chicken or pork in either a green or red sauce.  Tamale peddlers commonly offer Atole or Champurrado, a maize-based hot chocolate-like beverage as well; and, sweet tamales (de dulce) around holiday seasons.

The tamales are mostly fixed in large batches by groups of four and five women--sometimes extended family, who pool expenses and divide territory, beginning before sunrise (though meat fillings are often prepared the night before), for morning distribution, breakfast or merendar, a holdover tied to the disappearing Mexican practice of a substantial, late lunch.

Some critics fear the safety of unregulated fare and a few efforts (notably around MacArthur Park where a co-op kitchen operates; image left) have been made to register vendors.  Others associate a street transaction with a measure of cultural authenticity, and as a class equalizing measure.

The going street rate is a buck a piece, with discounts in bulk.  

Sunday Brunch/Bonus Crenellation

No bartizan this (an overhanging lookout in a battlement), but still the evocation of crenellations, inverted, as a molding at the skirt of a salient feature, or oriel.