The Brief

In describing the massive undertaking it was to compose the score for the latest Avatar installment, Avatar: Fire and Ash, film composer Simon Franglen has some statistics he likes to share.

One is that almost every minute of the three-hour, 17-minute film was scored — three hours and four minutes to be exact. Printed out, that amount of music totaled more than 1,900 pages and had to be transported in two large road cases.

Another favorite stat of Franglen’s is that the epic score, which needed to match the epic scale of the film, required the work of 210 musicians, singers and engineers in Los Angeles.

Bucking the trend of recording overseas

Franglen is from the U.K., but L.A. has been his home for years. Meaning no disrespect to Britain, Franglen still says, “I would rather be here than anywhere else.”

That pride in his adopted home base has extended to his scoring work for Avatar, which Franglen says he and the film’s producers (director James Cameron and Jon Landau, who passed away in 2024) wanted recorded in Los Angeles, despite the fact that a lot of film scoring is increasingly moving abroad.

Franglen scored the second Avatar film, Avatar: The Way of Water, as well, and worked with Cameron previously, along with his mentor, composer James Horner, on the first Avatar and Titanic.

He also has worked as a session musician and producer with artists like Whitney Houston, Barbara Streisand, Miley Cyrus and Celine Dion — he won a Grammy for Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” from Titanic.

But even with his membership in the small club of Grammy winners, Franglen is more likely to bring up that he’s been a member of the American Federation of Musicians Local 47, the local professional musicians union, for more than three decades.

Recording the Avatar: Fire and Ash theme in Los Angeles was important to everyone on the production, Franglen says, as was bucking recent trends of scaling back film scores or using more electronic scoring than live orchestras.

“The Hollywood film score is something that we've all grown up with,” Franglen says. And it was important to him and the producers to keep the recording of the score in L.A. (the first and second Avatar scores were recorded here, as well) “because we are very much a part of not just the music community but the film community of L.A., which has been having a tough time recently, as we all know.”

“ I'm very proud of being able to keep the work here,” Franglen says. “And I think the quality of the work is shown in the score itself, which I'm exceedingly proud of.”

Avatar: Fire and Ash’s end-credits song, “Dream As One,” sung by Miley Cyrus and which Franglen co-wrote with Cyrus, Mark Ronson and Andrew Wyatt, recently was nominated for a Golden Globe. And the score for Avatar: The Way of Water earned Franglen a 2023 World Soundtrack Award.

How work for musicians in LA has declined and the ripple effects

When Franglen first came to L.A. as a session musician, he says there were seven full-time orchestras working every day. When he was working on pop records, Franglen says, the top guitarists would need to be booked three months in advance because they were so busy.

Today, Franglen says, there’s less and less work because of productions moving overseas.

The latest annual report from Film LA, the official film office for the LA region, found the number of scripted projects filmed in L.A. declined 14 percent from 2023 to 2024.

And while California expanded its Film & TV Tax Credit Program this year to help encourage productions to stay here, its effects aren’t yet known.

“The problem is [...] if you're going to film in Europe, then maybe you don't record the score in L.A.,” Franglen says. “ And eventually what happens is that if I want to hire the finest guitarist in the world, I know that he'll be available. I can probably ask him, ‘Would you be available this week or next?’ And he will say yes.”

While that can be wonderful in many ways, Franglen says, it also means less opportunities overall, including for musicians with less experience who might get a chance at a bigger gig if all the top musicians were as busy as they used to be.

“I'm seeing a lot of the faces that I know from when I was a session musician in my orchestra," Franglen says. "That's great. I'm very, very pleased to see them. But it also means that the turnover has not been as extensive as what one would've expected, and that turnover is important.”

More new players coming in, Franglen says, helps ensure that recording work for movies like Avatar — and smaller scale films too — can stay in Los Angeles for years to come.

If you’re looking for fire anniversary events (many of which continue through the weekend), check out our roundup here.

We’re continuing with our staff L.A. resolutions, and Associate Editor Anthony Schneck has on his list some old and new adventures for 2026. First, it’s to have a martini at Musso and Frank (despite the touristy rep!), then it’s a trip to a Grand Ole Echo night at The Echo for some country music vibes. Later in the year, he’s excited to watch World Cup matches at the boisterous fan villages.

Senior K-12 education reporter Mariana Dale is trying not to take our beautiful landscape for granted this year; she hopes to spot an octopus at the tidepools after lucking out seeing a bat star and a colorful nudibranch during the last king tide at White Point tidepools in San Pedro. She also plans a valiant return to Eaton Canyon once the damaged trails begin to reopen.

Our friends at Licorice Pizza have tons of new music on their 2026 to-do list; this weekend, Mike Garson wraps up this three-night Bowie tribute residency at the Sun Rose with a rotating cast of all-stars, including Billy Corgan, Chad Smith, Jake Wesley Rogers, Judith Hill, Luke Spiller and Licorice Pizza’s own all-star Carmine Rojas. Friday and Saturday, Galantis play the Hollywood Palladium, and on Saturday there’s another big benefit show at the Shrine, Artists For Aid, to raise funds for those affected by the ongoing crises in Sudan and Palestine. Also on Saturday, you could also check out Unwritten Law at the Teragram Ballroom, or American Idol winner Lee DeWyze at the Hotel Café.

Elsewhere on LAist, you can keep up with anniversary events marking one year since the Eaton and Palisades fires, meet five new species discovered in 2025 and catch up on the new laws that will affect California schools in 2026.

Events

Power Up Altadena!

Sunday, January 11, 11 a.m.
Zorthian Ranch 
3990 N. Fair Oaks Ave., Altadena 
COST: FREE, $10 SUGGESTED DONATION; MORE INFO

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Courtesy KCRW

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Dena United is hosting this all-day festival at Altadena’s historic Zorthian Ranch to celebrate the community’s diverse culture and commemorate one year since the devastating Eaton Fire. Expect to see a wide range of performances from acts including Bobby Bradford, Dwight Trible, Baba Onochie Chukwurah & the Rhythms of the Village Family Band, the Pan Afrikan Peoples Arkestra, Earthseed Band and the Whispering Giants with MCs Medusa and Myka 9.

Polar Bear Plunge

Saturday, January 10, 10:15 a.m.
Annenberg Community Beach House
415 Pacific Coast Highway, Santa Monica 
COST: FREE, $10 for heated pool admission; MORE INFO

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Courtesy Annenberg Community Beach House

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Cold plunge, or really cold plunge? Start your year with fellow polar bears at the Annenberg Community Beach House and take a group jump into the Pacific, followed by a 300-yard swim out and back to warm up for those with a little more stamina. Brrr!

Morton Feldman: Centennial Marathon

Sunday, January 11, 3 p.m. to 9 p.m. 
Wende Museum 
10808 Culver Blvd., Culver City 
COST: FREE; MORE INFO 

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Courtesy Wende Museum

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Two special afternoons of concerts from Piano Spheres at the Wende Museum on Sunday and The Brick on Monday span the masterworks of legendary American composer Morton Feldman. The two days will feature works including Crippled Symmetry, For Bunita Marcus, and Patterns in a Chromatic Field. Special guests like Amy Williams, Conor Hanick and more will perform. On Monday, head to Melrose Hill to art space The Brick (518 N. Western Ave.) from 3 p.m. to 9 p.m. for a second set of music.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Saturday, January 10, 8:30 p.m.
Rooftop Cinema Club
888 S. Olive Street, Downtown L.A.
COST: $31; MORE INFO

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Focus Features

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The rainy weather seems to be taking a break, so take advantage and enjoy some eternal sunshine of your own at Rooftop Cinema Club’s Fireside Films. The modern classic Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), starring Kate Winslet and Jim Carrey, is a meditation on memory — and the setting is cozy, with outside heaters and a roaring fire. Tickets include a hot beverage.

Historic Main St. Santa Monica Walk

Saturday, January 10, 10:30 a.m. to 12 p.m. 
Shotgun House 
2520 2nd. Street, Santa Monica 
COST: FREE; MORE INFO 

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Piermario Eva

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Santa Monica Conservancy hosts this walk along historic Main Street and through the vibrant Ocean Park neighborhood, led by street historian and author of the award-winning blog The Street Seen, Mark Gorman. Miss this week? The SMC leads tours every second Saturday of each month.

Two films by Zoe Beloff 
Friday, January 9, 6 p.m. 
Velaslavasay Panorama 
1122 W. 24th Street, West Adams
COST: $18; MORE INFO 

There’s no more unique place in L.A. than the Velaslavasay Panorama, and filmmaker Zoe Beloff will be there in person to debut two new films at the space, Josephine the Singer or The Mouse People and Life Forgotten. The first looks at the history of New York’s Lower East Side through its community gardens, told through the text of a Franz Kafka short story; the second centers on a silent movie theater and storefront cinema in early 20th-century New York City.

CHAOS: Chelsea Peretti, Natasha Leggero, Sabrina Jalees

Sunday, January 11, 7:30 p.m. 
Elysian Theater 
1944 Riverside Drive, Elysian Valley  
COST: FROM $25; MORE INFO

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Chaos/riotous laughter/who knows what will happen when these three incredibly funny women get together on stage? Chelsea Peretti (Brooklyn Nine-Nine), Natasha Leggero (Chelsea Lately) and Sabrina Jalees (Search Party) take to the Elysian for a night of much-needed antics.

Ukrainian Christmas Dinner

Sunday, January 11, 2 p.m. to 5 p.m. 
Ukrainian Cultural Center 
4315 Melrose Ave., East Hollywood 
COST: FROM $81; MORE INFO 

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Ukrainian Culture Center of Los Angeles

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Keep the holiday celebrations going with this Ukrainian Christmas Dinner — the Schedriy Vechir (“generous evening”) Holiday Gala — celebrating the resilience of the Ukrainian people in this challenging time. The fundraising event includes performances from the Kobzar Choir, KOLO Choir of St. Volodymyr’s Church, Blagovist Choir of St. Andrew’s Church, Vova Zi Lvova, Vsudy Svoya, Chervona Kalyna Dance Ensemble and more.

Dry January at Burden of Proof
Various dates 
1012 Mission Street, South Pasadena
COST: VARIES; MORE INFO

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If drinking less is on your January to-do list, you couldn’t pick a better place to start than Burden of Proof in South Pasadena. While other N.A. bars have closed in the past year (The New Bar, Stay), Burden of Proof is thriving, with a variety of events featuring local producers to help keep you on the straight and narrow for dry January and all year long.

The acclaimed Max series The Pitt returns for a second season today.

The Pitt centers around Dr. Michael Robinavitch (aka “Dr. Robby”) played by Noah Wyle — probably best known for his 13 season run as a doctor on another medical drama, ER — and a large cast of other doctors, nurses, patients and hospital staff.

The series has a unique format: a season spans just one day, with each episode representing an hour in the emergency room of a fictional Pittsburgh hospital. It’s been lauded for its authenticity (including by medical professionals) and also for its casting, which the show’s Emmy-winning casting directors see as connected.

Cathy Sandrich Gelfond and Erica Berger, who took home an Emmy for their work casting The Pitt’s debut season, say their main directive from the show’s producers was showing the truth of working in an emergency department.

‘If they’ve got the goods, they’ve got the goods’

“ I think the great gift of this show for both of us is that everybody [from the] top down agreed — We didn't need ‘names.’ We had Noah. And that we could just go discover,” Gelfond says. “Best person wins and [it] doesn't matter if they've never done anything. If they've got the goods, they've got the goods. Cause everybody has to have a first job.”

Gelfond and Berger cast a wide net, and got three to five thousand submissions for each character. They narrowed that down to 20 to 40 candidates to read for the role (and more for series regulars), and then submitted five to eight of their favorites to the producers.

Gelfond says considering and casting a lot of newcomers also contributed to the show’s authentic feel. “Part of why this worked is a lot of these people [Erica and I] didn't know either, so they fell into the parts. You have no baggage and you have no expectations, and then they just suddenly become the character.”

‘There can’t be two of us’

The directive for realness also led to a diverse cast, including a Filipino doctor and nurses who sometimes speak Tagalog, and multiple South Asian doctors.

“At the end of the day, what we're trying to do is show the truth of who works in these hospitals,” casting director Gelfond says. “And guess what? There are more than two South Asians.”

But it was something that Gelfond says surprised even the South Asian actresses cast on the show. Similar to what Brooklyn Nine-Nine actresses Stefanie Beatriz and Melissa Fumero described experiencing back in 2019, The Pitt actresses Supriya Ganesh (who plays med student Victoria Javadi) and Shabana Azeez (who plays Doctor Samira Mohan) told the casting directors they thought, “There can’t be two of us.”

‘The climate hasn’t changed what we’re up to’

Their assumption, rooted in their experiences auditioning for other roles, is also reflected in the data on casting in Hollywood. The most recent Hollywood Diversity Report from UCLA that focuses on streaming shows from 2024 found that among the most watched streaming comedies and dramas that year, 79.6 percent of lead actors were white.

And while BIPOC actors “fared much better as co-leads than they did as leads,” they were still underrepresented as co-leads, filling only 29.7 percent of the roles in that year’s top streaming comedies and dramas.

That’s despite continued evidence that shows with diverse casts get good ratings, and that rolling back representation gains comes with substantial financial risks.

In a moment where networks and streamers are pulling back on pledges to diversity, equity and inclusion, Gelfond and Berger say they haven’t seen that have an impact on their work.

 “We're fortunate that we can be open on a lot of parts [...] the role goes to the person who gave the best performance, kind of regardless of anything else,” Berger says. “The climate hasn't changed what we're up to over here.”

If you need a new refrigerator, you go to a hardware store. But what if you need a thousand refrigerators?

This is a math problem in the era of urban mega-fires. A year after L.A. went up in flames, survivors are looking to rebuild quickly and affordably.

As just one person, the costs of rebuilding add up fast. But by pooling their purchasing power, neighborhoods — or what's left of them — are working together to curtail rebuilding costs.

It turns out needing a thousand fridges could be a good issue to have. In Altadena, fire survivors are working together to buy things in bulk. And they're trying to find the most efficient and fair way to do it.

" When you see that deal on the shelf: 'Buy four, get the fifth for 20% off,' all you have to do is consult your wallet," said Michael Tuccillo, whose home was damaged in the Eaton Fire. "But when you're bulk purchasing, it becomes complicated because you have to make a choice that's right for the entire community."

Morgan Whirledge first tried the group approach when he needed a land survey of his property. He's an Eaton Fire block captain, meaning he coordinates with neighbors and other block captains on all types of issues related to fire recovery.

" If you're bringing out survey equipment to an area … why not knock out a few properties at the same time in one day, as opposed to coming out over and over again?" Whirledge said.

A lot of other neighborhoods had the same idea.

This process allowed block captains like Whirledge to try out their negotiating skills — and understand the limits of their leverage. He made a deal for a handful of plots, including his own.

"The surveyor we ended up with was saying, 'Hey, there's kind of a threshold where it stops being more economical for me,'" Whirledge said.

It also revealed the challenges of making big financial decisions with other homeowners. Tuccillo scored a great deal for himself and two dozen neighbors: around $1,700 a lot for a land surveyor, compared to a one-off price of $5,000. But someone had to go first, and someone had to go last.

" It took like two months, maybe three months for some of these people to get service, which is a big deal," said Tuccillo, who is also a block captain. "And people were upset at me."

A house under construction in Altadena in June.

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Myung J. Chun

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Los Angeles Times via Getty Images

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'The gap'

Land surveying is simple compared to the decisions that lie ahead for most people rebuilding in Altadena and the Palisades.

Many face an issue that some fire survivors refer to simply as "the gap" — the financial hole between what insurance will give and what it will actually cost to rebuild.

Working together could be the difference that allows some people to return home.

Elizabeth Campbell has been thinking a lot about this problem. She negotiates bulk purchases for a living, and has worked as a buyer for companies like Saks Fifth Avenue and the North Face. When she lost her home in the Eaton Fire, she found a new arena for her expertise.

"Asking a vendor for a discount is not always the best way to get the best price," she said. "When you're purchasing a large amount of goods, you're thinking a little bit more broadly. Where are they manufacturing? Is it something that they need to manufacture six months in advance?"

In the first year of recovery, a lot of these logistical questions were playing out on Discord and in WhatsApp groups. Seeking a bigger fix, some fire survivors have teamed up with David Lee, a software developer.

Lee launched Buildnotes — an online platform to help more people do group purchasing with less logistical and interpersonal hassle. The site is a wholesale marketplace for materials and services needed for rebuilding. Right now, a big goal is to get homeowners and vendors to sign up.

" We try to line up homeowners and projects along three primary dimensions. One is geography. Two is chronology. What's the start date of your project and do the phases of your project line up with other homes? And then third is style of home," Lee said.

Some homeowners in Altadena scored great deals with other neighbors to pay for things such as a land surveyor. The cost went from $5,000 for a one-off price for one property to $1,700 for two dozen neighbors each.

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The biggest group purchase: a home

The largest group purchase fire survivors can make is the home itself.

That's the route Brad Sherwood took after losing his house in Santa Rosa to the Tubbs Fire in 2017. He quickly realized that his insurance payout wasn't enough for him and his wife to rebuild a custom home, and they started talking with neighbors about rebuilding together.

In the end, Sherwood and around 20 other families in his neighborhood went in on the same builder: Stonefield Development of Orange County.

"They allowed neighbors to get into different focus groups, and based on how many bedrooms you wanted or your lot size, they allowed you to develop a floor plan," he said. "If we got enough people to do this particular floor plan, then we could do an assembly production of our homes. And that really benefited us in terms of construction costs, timeline, labor costs."

Sherwood said initial estimates were $700 a square foot. By purchasing his home alongside his neighbors, he spent $400 a square foot.

" The group buy was kind of like therapy in a way," Sherwood said. "Because we all were doing this together, and you didn't feel alone or scared."

Sherwood said custom finishes and small details made sure the neighborhood he returned to wasn't "cookie cutter" compared to the pre-fire hodgepodge of custom, older homes.

A familiar approach

Fire survivors in L.A. aren't the first to try out group purchasing after a large-scale disaster. Jennifer Gray Thompson, who leads the advocacy organization After the Fire, said that since her group launched in 2017, she has seen communities in California, Colorado and elsewhere purchase goods and services together to bring costs down.

In Maui, where the Lahaina Fire destroyed thousands of homes in 2023, many residents need trusses — structures made of wood or steel that form the base of a roof. It's inefficient to order them separately, especially in a place as hard to reach as Maui. So Gray Thompson said community members are working on placing a bulk order.

In Altadena, fire survivors are working together to buy things in bulk. And they're trying to find the most efficient and fair way to do it.

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"Trusses are really hard to get on Maui," she said. "So what you have to find is what in the market is the barrier, and then you can often unlock that barrier by group buying."

But this type of coordination depends on a number of factors, including how tight-knit the recovering community is, how close together homes are, and how affluent the disaster zone is.

The collective decision making seen after the Tubbs Fire in Santa Rosa was harder to pull off in more rural communities destroyed in the 2021 Dixie Fire in Northern California, according to Gray Thompson. People lived farther apart and were scattered to the winds after their town was destroyed.

Still, she said, the idea that it's better to work together, as a community — the ethos of group purchasing — applies to all fire survivors.

" Nobody can walk through this alone. It's an inefficient way to do it. It's not healthy — emotionally or financially or politically or socially," she said. " All of rebuilding is a group project.”

That's what Morgan Whirledge is finding in Altadena.

" If you are a survivor, being able to turn that corner from dread ... that's like a huge part of this effort," he said. " We're all looking for those steps in this process that give us the resiliency and the optimism to carry forward."

Wherever they may fall in the spectrum, engaging in the idea of group purchasing has given some fire survivors something that's in even shorter supply than building materials: hope.

When Ariel Pittman thinks about the Eaton Fire, she said she thinks about the person with a disability who died waiting to be evacuated, and about the importance of knowing who’s in the area.

“We need to have a sense of responsibility for each other,” Pittman said.

And she thinks about how to get relief money to survivors immediately, Pittman said, “rather than making them fill out mountains of paperwork and drive all over town trying to get resources.”

Pittman, owner and founder of the art gallery Official Welcome in Westlake, is among a group of five women art workers and artists — including Kathryn Andrews, Andrea Bowers, Olivia Gauthier, and Julia V. Hendrickson — who created the mutual aid fund Grief and Hope.

Mutual aid refers to individuals pooling resources to help one another. This collective action can build new social relationships but can also represent a shared understanding that existing relief systems often fail to help everyone.

After the Palisades and Eaton fires a year ago, there was an outpouring of giving for artists and art workers who experienced loss. In small and large gestures, this aid created connection, served as recognition of this shared moment, and suggested new ways of relating to one another.

But those who received aid have ongoing needs beyond what those homegrown efforts have provided, and those who manage aid told LAist that more needs to be done to improve relief systems ahead of the next disaster.

Supporting the art community after the fires

The Grief and Hope fund was intended to draw attention to the economics of working in culture and to the art workers who go unrecognized. It was among a number of initiatives to support artists and art workers after the fires; it raised approximately $1.6 million, much of that already distributed to 271 people.

“I think we all had this shared sense too of just not wanting to see our art world disappear here. And that felt very prescient when the fires happened,” gallery director Gauthier said.

A recent survey about artists in the labor force found more than half of the artists reported being “somewhat or very worried” about being able to afford “food, housing, medical care, or utilities” and around 10% “juggled three or more jobs.”

While some artists do well financially, Pittman said, she has seen art workers living on the edge: self-employed workers, underpaid gallery and museum employees, people who are underemployed or managing multiple jobs.

A disaster only makes their situations more precarious.

The organizers of the mutual aid fund Grief and Hope. From left standing, clockwise: Olivia Gauthier; Ariel Pittman; Kathryn Andrews, Julia V. Hendrickson. Not pictured: Andrea Bowers.

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Grief and Hope’s organizers were already active in supporting artists before the fires, so it came naturally to continue to do so. They quickly set up a fiscal sponsor through The Brick nonprofit to manage the money and researched the minimum requirements needed to distribute aid.

Hendrickson, a small business owner of the arts agency Verge, checked applications for false information, but overall the group aimed to cut red tape — an example they hope bureaucracies can learn from.

The most dominant response Grief and Hope’s organizers heard from aid recipients in a survey was their gratitude for “how little information and hoops we required people to jump through,” Pittman said. She pointed out “the number of people who were just like, ‘thank you for not asking me to quantify my suffering to receive support.’”

Recipients also reported in the survey that they felt more connected.

With its organizers bearing close ties to the community, Grief and Hope was also a hub for information, channeling requests from people wanting to help and sharing opportunities like temporary housing, access to studio space and free art supplies.

In their efforts to distribute funding quickly, members of Grief and Hope recognized that they missed a lot of older people who weren’t on social media or connected to those that are. To remedy this, Grief and Hope organizers were able to distribute funding to those who were less online at a later date.

Pittman said this is another reason why there needs to be data for those distributing resources after a disaster, so that resources could be brought to people, rather than people having to find them or rely on an algorithm to learn about them.

Pittman said her group plans to make one more payment to applicants, but speaking for herself, she doesn’t see Grief and Hope being revived unless they’re uniquely situated to help.

“I hope that the people who saw what we did would do the same for us, that there would be another group like this in the future, for the next thing that needs it, you know?” she said.

And better data would mean future aid groups could get a head start. This group shares an understanding that with climate change, disasters will inevitably become more frequent.

One of Pittman’s collaborators, Andrews, an artist and founder of the gender equality nonprofit Judith Center, has now lost her home twice (first to the Bobcat Fire in 2020, second to the Palisades Fire).

She recognized this is a unique opportunity where people can come together and think about a different future, on how to construct a community anew, but also how to prepare for a different disaster response.

“I don't think a solution after the fact is the right approach because there's just not enough we can do. We need to reengineer it on the front end,” Andrews said. “And I think collectively we should make demands that the government does step up differently, that insurance performs differently.”

Needs after a disaster

Margaret Ross Griffith learned from her neighbor’s car camera that the Eaton Fire had made it to her Altadena home.

She also lost her and her husband’s art studios, their art storage, and also the period of time, the “soft space” she called it, that her family of four shared before her eldest daughter would go off to college.

When various relief efforts sprung up in the aftermath, the last thing she could imagine doing was driving anywhere to pick up anything.

“You're like, ‘I have to drive where?’” she recalled. “I mean, you're just in such a state of shock that driving anywhere is a hardship.”

Margaret Griffith learned from her neighbor’s car camera that the Eaton Fire had made it to her Altadena home.

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Griffith and her husband lost their art studios and their art storage in the Eaton Fire.

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Friends showed up for her and her family. At least two rented trucks to bring items to fill their empty rental home. One day five of her husband’s friends came with shovels and screen to remove and filter debris. The friends who took Griffith and her family in after the Eaton Fire said they could stay as long as they needed.

It also helped that she could receive funds quickly from Grief and Hope. There were immediate costs to cover, including paying for a security deposit and rent for a place that cost twice as much as their mortgage.

Even before having furniture for their rental, Griffith said with some amusement, she used aid from art groups to invest in a laser cutter. Griffith, an artist who makes intricate sculptures by cutting repeated patterns through metal and other materials, said it was an essential need for her art practice.

The value of having a space to create

At 72 years old, Coleen Sterritt had retired from teaching at a community college and had plans for her art practice and life in her community. She said that this has now been erased. The materials gathered for future projects have burned, along with her house and two art studios. The people in her former Altadena community who consider themselves too old to rebuild or who rented do not plan to return.

“It was like one day you had your life and the next day you did not,” Sterritt said. “It was just gone.”

After the Eaton Fire, Sterritt, her husband, and their two dogs have moved five times. She said it helps to be around people who understand what they went through. There is a sense of isolation among others, including family.

“They don't really understand that it's with us all the time. It's with us all the time,” she said.

Going to art galleries today is a reminder of the art she has lost: sculptural art in the last 15 years, and the works on paper that went back nearly 50 years, her notebooks, and her sketchbooks.

Sterritt received mutual aid from a GoFundMe a former student created for her. Sterritt was initially reluctant, but was persuaded that the GoFundMe was a connection to others who wanted to give, regardless of how much someone could contribute.

But as the one-year mark approached, she said she has noticed that the attention has begun to fade. Sterritt points out, for example, businesses that were so quick to offer discounts at the time of the fires, did not continue much past early 2025. By summertime, businesses appeared to have moved on, she said.

Recovery has been a full-time job — between working to create an inventory of all that was lost and participating in the lawsuit against SoCal Edison, Sterritt has not been able to make art.

Sterritt misses having a studio and the privacy it affords. The loss of a physical place for an artist isn’t the same as it is for a person whose profession isn’t so tied to having a space for creativity, Sterritt said. And space in Los Angeles is hard to come by.

Griffith, too, has found it challenging to make art since the fire. She said to do so, she needs to have three components — time, money and space. She recently was given access, however, to a temporary studio for her eight-week art residency with Arts at Blue Roof. There she seemed to relax.

“There're no distractions here. I'm not, you know, dealing with the burdens of the house rebuild when I come into this room,” she said in an interview at her Blue Roof studio. 

She is not expecting her new home to be ready until 2027, so she hopes that organizations continue to offer studio space to those affected by the fires.

And she hopes people do not forget how long recovery takes.

Funding for this story was provided by UC Berkeley's Greater Good Science Center, as part of its "Spreading Love Through the Media" initiative, supported by the John Templeton Foundation.