The Brief

L.A. is known for a lot of unique things: Our people and communities, our food, our entertainment scenes, our beautiful hikes and access to nature.

But one thing we're not really that known for — or may know about — is our rich historical architecture.

Yes, we have a nice list of Victorian and Queen Anne homes in Angelino Heights, beautiful examples of art deco in downtown and craftsman homes in Mid City, but a lot of beautiful buildings have been knocked down and paved over, largely in the name of progress (i.e. 10 Freeway, L.A Civic Center).

But many of our earliest streetlights still stand; actually they may be the oldest thing in any neighborhood.

“When you're standing here and you're looking at an old streetlight from the 1920s, there's a really good chance that it's the oldest thing in your field of view,” says writer, historian and streetlamp enthusiast India Mandelkern. “It's older than the road, older than the buildings. They really do connect us to the past.”

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When it comes to historical design, Los Angeles doesn't top a lot of people's lists. Compared to a San Francisco or New York, L.A. can feel a lot... newer. But we do have those cities beat in one category: our streetlights.

LA's Streetlights Are Kinda A Big Deal

When it comes to historical design, Los Angeles doesn't top a lot of people's lists. Compared to a San Francisco or New York, L.A. can feel a lot... newer. But we do have those cities beat in one category: our streetlights.

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Mandelkern wrote a book centered about the city’s streetlights: Electric Moons: A Social History of Street Lighting in Los Angeles.

We have a special history and diversity of designs for our streetlights that go back to the late 1800s.

“There is something that's almost a little bit sacred about an old streetlight,” she says. “They're these modern totems that represented the collective aspirations of our communities.”

Exploring L.A.'s streetlights

Mandelkern began her journey into her “streetlight safari” — what she calls the exploration of streetlamps — during her time as a fellow at LACMA. She created a zine that highlighted Chris Burden’s “Urban Light” public art, which led her to more research about the city’s street lighting. She also credits the city’s Bureau of Street Lighting as helpful in all her history gathering.

In her book, before digging into the actual lamps and architecture, she notes that the Chumash and Tongva tribes have always looked to the lights of the sky — the sun and the stars — to guide them, already making the Los Angeles region a unique place.

As the region became more urbanized and more populated around the turn of the last century, there’d sometimes be no buildings or paved roads — but at least there’d be light.

“If you look at these early advertisements for various subdivisions around L.A., they'll often call out the fact that they have streetlights in addition to … concrete paved roads,” Mandelkern notes. “Streetlights were very much part of the advertisement as a modern residential neighborhood.”

Before lamps went electric, they were gas powered and unreliable. They had to be turned on manually and would blow out with gusts of wind.

The first electric lights hit the L.A. streets in 1882. The progress of electricity was “important in making L.A. a quintessentially modern and progressive city,” Mandelkern says.

And, of course, there was a shift in street lighting in L.A. as cars became the dominant mode of transportation. You might notice some lights point toward the road instead of centering the pedestrian experience on the sidewalk. Other lamps might have light in both directions.

MacArthur Park’s streetlights 

Just near MacArthur Park alone, there is variety in the streetlights. Mandelkern says wandering this area is “urban archaeology at its finest.”

The Wilshire Lantern in McArthur Park was installed throughout the city in 1928.

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Courtesy of Hat and Beard Press

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On the corner of Wilshire Boulevard and Park View Street, there are at least four different types of streetlights. One iconic example is the “Wilshire Lantern.”

This particular streetlight from 1928 is a metal pole with a four-sided light box. Its fixture and decor is regal, with four topless women perched at each corner. (Mandelkern notes she doesn’t know whether they're supposed to be “classical Greek figures or flapper dancers.”) They were part of a project to improve Wilshire, to make it more similar to a Fifth Avenue or a Champs-Élysées.

“In order to make that believable, we needed to have really awesome street lights too, in addition to the landscaping and the paving and the road widening and all of these other improvements,” Mandelkern says.

These lanterns, at one point, lined the street all the way to Fairfax Avenue.

Why there's so much variety here

Mandelkern emphasizes that L.A. doesn’t have the most streetlights (there are 223,000 of them), but there are over 400 designs in the city — not counting other cities in the county like Pasadena, or Inglewood.

One industry factor that helped foster different designs was that a few manufacturers, like Marbelite, were L.A.-based companies. And those businesses specialized in different materials, such as concrete or metal. You might spot some of their names stamped on the side or bottom of the light fixtures, by the way.

Behind a decorative streetlight is the Koster House circa 1965, a Queen Anne-style residence at 507 W. Second St. on Bunker Hill. Various apartment buildings, parking lots, the Los Angeles Times building, and City Hall are seen in the distance on the right.

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Courtesy of the LA Public Library TESSA collection

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The way streetlights were set up in previous decades also tell us about the haves and have nots.

“Most of the [historic] streetlights that survive are often tend to be in whiter, wealthier neighborhoods, where there are more people who actually own homes instead of rent because paying for streetlights is the decision of the homeowner,” Mandelkern says.

Oftentimes, one block or group of homes would be illuminated while the next group would remain dark.

“It tells you who wanted to be seen, who wanted illumination, and who either couldn't afford it or … wanted to be left in the dark,” adds Mandelkern.

Maybe next time you’re out on a walk or on the way to work, check out the nearest streetlight and see what kind of story it might depict to you.

Streetlights “can mean progress. But they can also mean romance and nostalgia. They can mean policemen that you didn't really have to pay for. They can mean community, but they can also mean loneliness. And I think that it all depends on context and what we project onto these lamps,” Mandelkern says.

Producer Evan Jacoby contributed to this report.

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has announced several significant rule changes for the 99th Oscars, including AI protections for actors and writers as well as expanded eligibility for international films.

In a statement to NPR, the Academy on Saturday said the changes are in response to listening to the global filmmaking community and addressing barriers to entry in its eligibility process.

The Academy added that its rules and eligibility standards have always evolved alongside technologies such as sound, color, and CGI, and that AI is no different. Awards rules and guidelines are reviewed and refined each year.

A blow for Tilly Norwood 

Among the most noteworthy changes, the Academy now explicitly states that only roles, "demonstrably performed by humans with their consent" are eligible for Acting awards. In other words, AI creations like the much-hyped Tilly Norwood cannot hope to win a Best Actress Oscar anytime soon.

Particle6, the production company behind Norwood, did not immediately respond to NPR's request for comment on Saturday about its creations' ban from consideration. In March, Norwood commented, "Can't wait to go to the Oscars!" in an Instagram post announcing its newly released music video.

The Academy also requires screenplays to be "human-authored" and said it reserved the right to investigate the use of generative AI in any submission.

Meanwhile, qualifying flesh-and-blood human actors can now be nominated for multiple performances in the same category if those performances get enough votes to land in the top five. So, someone like Anne Hathaway, who has five major movies scheduled for release in 2026, could now theoretically sweep the nominations – though that outcome seems extremely unlikely.

"If an actor has an extremely prolific year, might we even see someone swallow up three of the five nominations?," wrote Deadline's awards columnist and chief film critic Pete Hammond about the changes. "Probably won't happen, but it's now possible."

Under previous rules, an actor could only receive one nomination per category. If they had two high-ranking performances in Best Actor, for example, only the one with the most votes would move forward.

International films prioritizes filmmakers over countries

While international films can still be the official selection of their countries, now they can qualify by winning the top prize at a major international festival such as the Palme d'Or at Cannes, the Golden Lion at Venice, or the World Cinema Grand Jury Prize at Sundance.

Historically, countries "owned" the nomination, and only one film per country was allowed. The new rules allow multiple films from the same country to compete if they are critically acclaimed, and it shifts the honor from a geopolitical entity to the filmmakers themselves.

Largely positive response

The changes have prompted a largely positive reaction from the film community on social media, such as on the popular The Shade Room entertainment and celebrity-focused Instagram feed, where commenters widely praised the "human-only" move to protect creative jobs.

The Academy's Awards Committee oversees the rules in tandem with branch executive committees, the International Feature Film Executive Committee and the Scientific and Technical Awards Executive Committee.

The rules are scheduled to go into effect next year, covering films released in 2026.

Copyright 2026 NPR

Los Angeles changes fast, and oftentimes that means some of the architectural relics of our shared past get swept up and paved over in all the "progress." (RIP Garden of Allah.)

But there are still places where you can find ruins that tell a tale, like a long-forgotten speakeasy reputedly for old Hollywood near La Crescenta.

The ruins are still there 

On a recent afternoon, author and local historian Mike Lawler led me just beyond the boundary of Crescenta Valley Park. Joggers like me might have seen an old, towering stone arch shrouded by bushes there — and wondered what lies beyond.

Turns out there was once a place called the Verdugo Lodge back there and Lawler has spent years excavating its history.

A car speeds away from the lodge onto New York Avenue. The stone archway that still stands can be seen in the background.

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Kadletz Family Archives)

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“It was a very high-end speakeasy for a time,” Lawler, who also helps run the Historical Society of the Crescenta Valley, said. “An amazing thing. And all the ruins are still here, just like this arch.”

Lawler said we don’t know exactly when the lodge was built, but we do have some of the picture starting in the late 1920s. The place was set up kind of like a timeshare where people bought 10 x 10 foot ‘tent lots’ that gave them access to on-site amenities. There was a golf course, stables, trout stream, a swimming pool — and a lodge with gambling and alcohol.

“The Crescenta Valley in the teens and '20s was a hotbed of moonshine, prostitution, all that stuff," Lawler said. "It was a quiet little community. But in all these canyons up here, stuff was going on. Illegal stuff!”

We don’t have a full guest list, but Lawler said it’s likely at least a few Hollywood types had gone up to the lodge to circumvent Prohibition era laws.

In some ways, it was kind of like the original glamping. Lawler said patrons probably weren’t doing much sleeping, though.

“They might have been unconscious!” he said with a chuckle.

Lawler led me to a road that swooped around a meadow. We passed by a massive swimming pool nestled into the hillside.

Once known as the “Crystal Pool,” it’s now empty and fenced off, with pitch black locker rooms below.

The exterior of the locker rooms for the old Crystal Pool.

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Robert Garrova / LAist

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We continued our journey up the hill and eventually arrived at a cascading stone stairway.

And at the top, the big show: overgrown with orange monkey flowers and goliath agaves lies the foundation of the old Verdugo Lodge, with lofty stone fireplaces the only guardians keeping the surrounding oak trees at bay.

Lawler takes out a floorplan that one of the former owners drew up for him.

“This is what it was laid out like on the inside. So a dancehall, and band stand on that side... And then upstairs was the gambling,” Lawler said.

Lawler had in hand a copy of a Los Angeles Times article from 1933 he found. The headline reads: “Revelers Flee in Lodge Raid.”

“The police that raided it were here at 3 o'clock in the morning. And there were still 500 people here. And they said it was the classiest joint they had ever raided... Anyway, people were diving out of windows and everything,” Lawler explained.

In a ruin like this, covered with moss and overgrowth, the imagination can run wild, too.

The archway that still stands outside of what's now known as Mountain Oaks.

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Robert Garrova / LAist

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Lawler pointed out a questionable door jam below the old dancefloor that’s been cemented over.

“That is a door. So what is behind there? So there’s a room in there that got walled in for some reason,” he said.

What we do know is that, sometime after the raid, the tawdry Verdugo Lodge and the surrounding land were purchased and then renamed Mountain Oaks by the Kadletzes — an entrepreneurial family who had run everything from a Turkish bath to a mini golf course. Over the next few decades, the family would rent the place out to local groups for recreational retreats.

The future of Mountain Oaks 

After they sold it in the ‘60s, Lawler said Mountain Oaks faced a “nightmare” of development threats. Over the years, some of the subdivided "tent lots" had been combined and sold off, Lawler said. A dozen private homes now stand on these pieces of land, next to the ruins of the Verdugo Lodge.

A map showing the Mountain Oaks public property acquired by The Mountains Recreation and Conservation Authority (MRCA).

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Courtesy MRCA

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Last year, with help from the City of Glendale, a U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development grant among other funding sources, the Mountains Recreation and Conservation Authority (MRCA) put up $6.1 million to acquire 33-acres of the land — not including the private lots where the homes stand — so the public can continue to roam the meadow and ruins.

Paul Edelman, MRCA's director of natural resources and planning, said his group will continue to manage the land, doing things like brush clearance, trash pickup and sign maintenance. And he said there are no current plans to remove the ruins or make any major changes to the property.

“If somebody comes up with a grand idea where they can find some funding for us to do something to enhance it, we’re always open to it,” Edelman said.

The purchase was good news for local preservationist Joanna Linkchorst.

“I grew up directly up the hill. But I always saw the sign that said ‘private property’ and didn’t really think about it until several years ago when I finally asked Mike. And he said, ‘Oh yeah, we got a resort speakeasy down the street,’” Linkchorst said standing among the oaks and overgrowth.

Linkchorst, who founded the group Friends of Rockhaven to preserve another nearby historic site, said it’s been amazing to see all of the decaying structures that were still hiding out at Mountain Oaks.

“There’s almost like these little ghosts in your head as you imagine what it was like when there was a beautiful wood floor and there was a second floor that people came jumping out of,” Linkchorst said.

Now, let’s check in to the Overlook Hotel.

That’s the fictional place Stanley Kubrick brought to life in his 1980 film The Shining, loosely based on Stephen King’s novel of the same name.

A local architect who hails from South Pasadena meticulously crafted a 3D model of the iconic space so Shining fans everywhere never have to check out.

‘I just couldn’t stop’ 

At his day job, architect Anthony Chieh mainly works on residential and boutique commercial spaces. But over the course of five months, he spent his nights meticulously recreating a virtual replica of the Overlook Hotel from the film that first scared him when he was 12.

Of course he started with the deeply haunted Room 237. That’s where Jack Torrance, played by Jack Nicholson, has a terrifying encounter with a ghostly woman.

Chieh's 3D rendering of Room 237

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Anthony Chieh

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“But once I started, I just couldn’t stop,” Chieh told LAist.

“I ended up modeling the Colorado Lounge, and then after that I was thinking maybe I should make the lobby and then arriving to the Gold Room, and then Grady’s bathroom.”

“It’s like a rabbit hole,” he said.

Users who download Chieh’s free 3D model can fly through all of those spaces, immersed in atmospheric sounds and music from the film.

“It’s interesting to dive into these kind of fictional environments and try to make sense of it,” Chieh said. “And the hope is people will get a different perspective once they’re in there.”

Kubrick’s take on the Overlook was famously inspired by real hotels like the Timberline Lodge in Oregon and the Ahwahnee in Yosemite. But the interiors you see in the film were created on sound stages in England.

“Real architecture, physical buildings, are built for people to live. And for movies, these are more meant to express the emotional aspect of things. It’s a psychological construct,” Chieh said.

In a recently published video essay on YouTube, Chieh dives deep into those psychological constructs and how, as he puts it, “Kubrick designed the Overlook Hotel not as a backdrop, but as the film's true villain.”

How spaces scare 

Chieh said during the monthslong process he was reminded of the power of architecture and design in the real world too – whether it’s an uncomfortably repetitive carpet design or a claustrophobic hallway.

“A physical construct can affect your emotion,” Chieh said.

“You can use it in a way to make people feel comfortable and you can also use it in a way to create fear.”

Chieh's 3D rendering of the Torrance's apartment in 'The Shining'

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Anthony Chieh

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What’s next for this architect moonlighting as a 3D modeler?

Chieh says he’s thinking about giving the spaceship from “2001: A Space Odyssey" the virtual treatment next. Or maybe turning to a local non-fictional space, like the Stahl House.

That is, of course, if he can ever escape the Overlook.