Mel Haber tells us about starting Melvyn's, his landmark Palm Springs eatery ... we prep you for WonderCon, coming to LA for the first time ... Marc Haefele makes us wistful for Black Mountain College ... whither Mariachi Plaza?
RIP Mel Haber, a prince of old Palm Springs, owner of Melvyn's, 80
UPDATE: Mel Haber, Palm Springs' old school restaurateur, died Tuesday at 80 of lung cancer. According to The Desert Sun, Melvyn's is in the process of being sold: "The restaurant was put up for sale when Haber's health began to fail. It is now in escrow, Ellis said, and is being sold to a group of investors from San Francisco including Lt. Gov. Gavin Newsom."
It’s a typical Saturday night here at Melvyn’s, one of the oldest and most iconic restaurants in Palm Springs. The bar is packed, a piano player belts out covers, couples fill the dance floor. And every weekend, you'll find Melvyn Haber roaming the restaurant.
"I am best known for the fact on my opening night, I chased away Steve McQueen and Ali McGraw, who were on a motorcycle, not realizing who they were. That was the first of one thousand foot-in-mouth experiences that I’ve had here," says Haber.
The 79-year-old Haber — he goes by Mel — is the owner and proprietor of one of Palm Springs's oldest hotels, the Ingleside Inn, and its restaurant, Melvyn’s, which he named after himself. Forty years ago, Haber was a Long Island businessman looking for the good life. He was tired of selling fuzzy dice and other automotive tchotchkes. With no experience in the hospitality business, he came out west.
"I was going through a midlife crisis, stumbled out to Palm Springs and wound up buying this property," Haber says.
The compound was originally built in 1925 as the private estate of the Humphrey Birge family, owners of the Pierce Arrow Motor Car Company. In 1935, they sold it to Ruth Hardy who ran it as a private hotel until 1965. "She had the who’s who of the world here, from Howard Hughes to Herbert Hoover to Clark Gable to Gianini who built the Bank of America," Haber says.
But by the time he bought the place in 1974, it had seen better days. "It was as shabby as could be," Haber says. "There was no air conditioning. The jacuzzi was cracked. The carpet was threadbare." It also wasn't open to the public.
Haber decided to make a go of it, improving the property, revamping the rooms and opening it up to anyone who wanted to rent a room. With no connections or experience, Haber did it through sheer brute force: "Fortunately, nothing was happening in town. Palm Springs was a small village. The opening and closing of the racquet club determined the social season. And people flocked here."
Did they ever. Locals came looking for a bit of glamour, celebrities came seeking privacy, writers came in search of a soothing retreat. Four decades later, Melvyn’s hasn’t changed much. The maître d’ and some waiters have been here 40 years. They still do tableside preparation, with a chafing dish and flames. It’s old school.
"In those days, everybody in Palm Springs was somebody. Right after I came here, Palm Springs became the symbol of the rich and famous. Gerald Ford, the president, just moved here. [Bob] Hope was here. Annenberg was here. Robin Leach was here doing shows. And I appeared on all of them. Why? Because I had a hot saloon in Palm Springs," Haber says.
Melvyn's became a celebrity magnet attracting Debbie Reynolds, David Hasselhoff, John Travolta and Carol Burnett, among others. One day, Haber spotted regulars Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell at the front desk.
"I say, 'How come you’re here? I didn’t know you were coming.' Kurt Russell had just gotten a brand new plane and he was a pilot," Haber says. "They were looking for some place to fly for an excuse. They said, what could be better than flying to Palm Springs and having lunch at Melvyn’s by the pool?"
Haber remembers one star with special warmth: Dinah Shore. "I don’t know how to explain this, there was something tremendously sensuous about her. You wanted to cuddle with her, you wanted to hug her. She was warm and fuzzy. She was as sweet and as nice as anybody I ever met. Without question, [she was] my favorite celebrity," Haber says. "I get some of the current celebrities but I don’t know who they are when I get them."
One celeb was bigger than all of them.
"Sinatra, incidentally, was awesome," Haber says. "When he came in, I would leave. There was an aura about him of power that I cannot describe. He’s the only person I’ve ever been intimidated by."
One day, Frank Sinatra asked Haber what kind of caviar he had: "I don’t have a clue but I figure there's black and gray. I got a 50% chance of guessing. I said we have black caviar."
Mel must’ve guessed right — Frank Sinatra held the reception for his 1976 wedding to his fourth and final wife, Barbara, at Melvyn’s.
"Comes the night of the party, I ask Sinatra if he wants me to close the whole restaurant. He says no, you can keep the patio open to the public as long as they don't disturb my party. About 7 o'clock, two guys come in with cameras strung around their neck, with these hats on with a sign that says Enquirer. I couldn't believe how obvious they were. So, of course, we escort them off the property."
Later, at midnight, as the party is winding down, Haber and his manager are walking Frank and Barbara out to a brand new Rolls Royce. As the newlyweds drive away, two men jump out from behind a tree and snap a picture of Sinatra through the windshield.
"Jilly Rizzo runs up, rips the camera out of the guy's hand, takes the film out of the guy's camera and throws it on the floor. Monday morning, the picture appeared in the Enquirer. The two guys that were sent in that said Enquirer were sent in to throw us off base. Decoys. The two guys, beautifully dressed who were here with two women having dinner on the patio. When they jumped out from behind the tree and took the picture, that camera goes back in the pocket and the camera for ripping and throwing away is out there for Jilly Rizzo to grab. That's how good they are," Haber says.
"At the end of the night, I said to him, 'Mr. S, I can't tell you what an honor it is for you to have your party here. He said, c'mon kid, you’re meshpuchah. In Jewish, the word meshpuchah means family."
Mel has no intention of ever retiring or ever selling. He’ll be the first one to tell you his success is unlikely. And he knows he has something special on his hands.
"People who love this kind of property, love it. They hate the big box hotels. When I travel, I go to big box hotels. I am everything that’s wrong for this business," he says. "I am not a foodie. I am not a wine connoisseur. I can’t cook a hamburger, make a Bloody Mary or open a cash register drawer. And I’m not into quaint charming hotels. However, this property happens to be unique by itself. There’s a magic ambiance about it that I’ve come to appreciate. I am the great American story. Don’t ask me how or why. I keep saying: The guy upstairs has me confused with somebody else."
How long can Mel Haber keep going? For as long as he can still put on a suit jacket and spin a great story.
DIY film series: Nick Cage before he got 'Left Behind'
Tim Cogshell, film critic for KPCC's Filmweek and Alt Film Guide, is joining Off-Ramp's team of commentators. His first entry is a DIY film series on the foundational films of Nicolas Cage. Cogshell blogs at CinemaInMind.
Mention Nick Cage to anybody under 35, and you’ll probably get a smirk. But he used to be a good actor, and I’ve got three films you’ve got to see if you want to understand why us older people cut him slack.
I was looking up Nick Cage as research for an interview. What struck me was how many bad Nick Cage movies there are, most of them from the last decade or so. I mean, did you see "Pay the Ghost," or "Dying of the Light?" Nick Cage is in a "Left Behind" movie. No need to look it up. He is.
There are exceptions. Cage appeared in the indie "Joe," in 2013, and the avant garde action hero flick "KickAss." But mostly it’s been, well, bad. But there once was a Nick Cage whose films were innovative, funny, thrilling and sometimes brilliant.
For the foundational films of Nicolas Cage, you’ve got to go way back — beyond "Moonstruck" and "Peggy Sue Got Married," before even the iconic "Raising Arizona," the Coen Brothers classic that made Cage a legit star.
You’ve got to go back to a time when Nick was only one of several young Coppolas looking to make their name in the family business without using the family name. Which isn’t exactly true ... Talia Shire is a Coppola and worked as a Tally Coppola for years before she played Connie in her brother’s film "Godfather." But I digress. And besides, for his first two films — a TV movie called "Best of Times" from 1981 and a small role in "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" — Cage is billed as Nicolas Coppola.
Then he changed his name. Smart move. The early '80s was a time when Hollywood nepotism was looked down upon. A famous name could provide as many burdens as opportunities.
So without the family moniker, Nicolas Cage went about building a career on daring performances in films that range from the quirky to the poignant to the outright weird. I've picked three extraordinary but often overlooked Nicolas Cage movies that, if you haven’t seen them, you should.
1. Valley Girl (1983)
Aside from being the first film in which Nick is billed as Nicolas Cage, "Valley Girl," directed by Martha Coolidge, marks his debut as a leading man. Cage’s Randy is brooding and mumbly and a little creepy, with his spiked hair and goofy laugh. He's like James Dean if Dean had been reassembled after the accident — still cool, but a little scary.
2. Birdy (1984)
Birdy is an Alan Parker drama based on the William Wharton novel. Cage plays a Vietnam vet, opposite Matthew Modine’s title character. Though the film is called "Birdy," it’s really Nick’s movie, and he’s brilliant. His deeply set eyes and reckless physicality belie a vulnerability that’s nearly unbearable.
3. Vampire's Kiss (1988)
I’m NOT choosing Cage’s 1995 Academy Award-winning performance in director Mike Figgis’ "Leaving Las Vegas," which is still astounding by my measure. It’s too easy and too recent. Instead, I suggest Vampire's Kiss, directed by Robert Bierman and written by Joseph Minion. Minion also penned the cult classic "After Hours" for director Martin Scorsese, which might give you an idea of the tack this crazy little gem takes.
In "Vampire’s Kiss," Cage plays a publishing exec bitten by a woman whom he believes to be a vampire. We watch as he becomes unhinged. It’s a wonderfully strange little movie in which Cage gives a performance without boundaries.
This is my Nick Cage – fearless, boundless, great. I know my picks are old, and certainly he’s made a number of very good films over the years. I love "The Lord of War" and "Adaptation." "Match Stick Men" is great, and "Face/Off" and "Con Air" are still a hoot. But if you really want to experience the Nick Cage films that revealed to us the charm, charisma and star power that overcame the burden of an industry name — and made a career that’s lasted 35 years — then you really have to start at the beginning. Throw yourself a film festival at home with my three choices, and meet the young Nicolas Cage, set on making a career — and a name — for himself.
Comic-Con's 'little brother' WonderCon comes to LA — and may help woo San Diego Comic-Con
Next weekend, March 25-27, thousands of people will be gathering at the L.A. Convention Center for one of the biggest comic book conventions. It's called WonderCon 2016, it's run by the same nonprofit that puts on San Diego Comic-Con and it's in Los Angeles for the first time.
, who covers pop culture online and on air, will be reporting from WonderCon all three days. He came by Off-Ramp to prep us for the convention.
Why is it called WonderCon and how is it different from Comic-Con or Anime Expo?
The name is a holdover to back when it was called the "Wonderful World of Comics Convention," before that got branded as just plain "WonderCon." It's like a little brother to San Diego Comic-Con, with many saying that it's historically run around five years behind the level of Comic-Con. That means that it's easier to get tickets and easier to get into panels to see the creators and stars that you're interested in — though its growth in recent years has made that more difficult, just like Comic-Con.
Why is it a big deal that it's here in L.A. next weekend, instead of Anaheim where it was the last few years?
The convention started out in the Bay Area before moving to Anaheim and, now, L.A. Both Anaheim and L.A. have expressed an interest in wooing San Diego Comic-Con away from San Diego, and working with the same company that runs Comic-Con on a convention with around half the attendees could be L.A.'s chance to show Comic-Con that they should make a move the next time their contract comes up.
When WonderCon coming to L.A. was first announced, L.A. Mayor Eric Garcetti dropped hints about his desire to bring their main convention up north. "We look forward to establishing a long-term partnership with Comic-Con International, the presenter, and helping them establish a home-base in L.A. We anticipate the show to be highly attended and to set the precedent for future successful Comic-Con events in L.A."
Comic-Con is locked into San Diego through 2018, but a stalled expansion of San Diego's convention space combined with contentious negotiations over hotel prices and getting discounted hotel blocks for congoers means that Comic-Con could be open to a move to somewhere like L.A., Anaheim or Las Vegas, which has also been part of the discussion thanks to better hotel availability and more convention space.
Marvel is the big name now in comics, but DC has big plans for WonderCon.
While movies and TV usually dominate conventions these days, DC is trying to make waves with a press conference announcing the creative teams on their relaunch of their entire comic book line, which they're calling "Rebirth." It comes five years after "The New 52," their last relaunch, which led to increased sales at the time.
The new relaunch is rumored to tie the comic books more closely in with DC's efforts in TV and film, as well as bringing back more of the old comic book continuity from before the New 52 reboot. It's part of an effort to take their success in those other arenas and funnel it back into comics, as well as building more ideas in the comic book world that could be used in future projects in other media. DC Comics' Geoff Johns has said that the relaunch is targeted at longtime comic book fans, while also aiming to make sure that new readers don't feel too lost.
Some of the new creators are being kept under wraps, with fans hoping they'll land some big names who aren't currently part of DC Comics. Many of the details of what this relaunch entails are being kept quiet, but it includes launching new books, putting out some of their existing books more often and doing more as they try to recapture market share from Marvel in the comics world.
The very first panel Friday at WonderCon gets at the heart of why so many people love superheroes. It's called "Can caped crusaders inspire you to find your inner courage?" and it explores topics like bullying, online harassment and hate crimes. Amnesty International is even attending.
One thing that Comic-Con International, the nonprofit that oversees both San Diego Comic-Con and WonderCon, has done in recent years has been to hold more panels taking an academic look at comic books, other genre entertainment and fan culture. It gives fans a chance to learn and think more about the heart behind the entertainment that motivates them as fans and that drives the creators.
Comic books can have a real influence on people's lives — writer Grant Morrison shared with Off-Ramp in 2014 how a Superman story he wrote literally saved lives, inspiring those who had thought about suicide.
"One of my proudest things is that the Superman scene that we did in 'All-Star Superman,' where he saves the young goth kid from suicide, has actually saved real people's lives in the real world. And to me, if I do nothing else in my life, I've saved some kid's life by writing that scene," Morrison told Off-Ramp. "That shows that Superman doesn't have to be real in order to do good things, and that kind of justifies my take on these characters, in that they don't have to be real, but they can still inspire us."
This story has been updated.
Keepers of the Flambé: 'Classic Dining: America's Finest Mid-Century Restaurants'
Skip lunch, ditch the sneakers, and put on your sportcoat, honey, because tonight we're celebrating at the Dal Rae supper club in Pico Rivera.
It's the home of the best relish tray in North America and is one of the last bastions of tableside dining, where the maitre d' or owner wheels a cart over and makes your Steak Diane, Caesar Salad or Cherries Jubilee in front of you.
The Dal Rae is just one of the historic eateries Peter Moruzzi profiles, and Sven Kirsten photographs lovingly, in "Classic Dining: America's Finest Mid-Century Restaurants."
Here's an excerpt:
As a type, classic American restaurants range from "continental-style" fine dining, with their softly lit wood-paneled interiors, starched tablecloths, curved booths, tuxedoed captains, and tableside service, to historic establishments retaining original character, décor, ambiance, and traditional menus. Elegant French restaurants typify the former; old-style ethnic restaurants -- Italian, Chinese, German, Spanish -- the latter. Steakhouses tend toward fine dining. Seafood restaurants run the gamut from high-end to sawdust and wood benches. Polynesian palaces, if you can find them, tend toward refined Oriental fare. All share an inviting time-machine quality.
"Fine dining" is associated with the upscale dinner houses that were popular in American cities from the 1940s through the 1970s. Classic fine dining establishments serve "continental cuisine" -- an eclectic melding of French-inspired and American dishes floridly described in elaborate menus. The key elements include white tablecloths, semicircular leather or vinyl booths of red, dark brown, or black, indirect lighting, tuxedoed captains, and tableside service. Many feature dark wood paneling reminiscent of old-world European restaurants, and have banquet rooms and the capacity for entertainment. With cocktails, dinner, dessert, and live music, fine dining is an experience that often lasts the entire evening.
Classic continental-style fine dining involves all the senses. It begins with the maître d' ushering your party past an expansive cocktail bar to a darkened dining room. There, seated in an enveloping red leather booth, a choreographed ritual unfolds with a level of formality and service appropriate to the cuisine. Dinner begins with cocktails, an iced relish tray, and bread, continues through an appetizer of Oysters Rockefeller, Caesar Salad prepared tableside, Lobster Thermidor or Steak Diane as an entrée, a fully loaded king-size Idaho russet baked potato, a bottle of red wine, and concludes with flaming Cherries Jubilee (prepared tableside, of course), coffee, and cognac.
Unlike contemporary upscale restaurants that reject buttery dishes, continental-style fine dining features rich foods with dual names: the aforementioned Lobster Thermidor and Steak Diane, Pepper Steak, Oysters Rockefeller, Dover Sole, and Bananas Foster. Fine dining restaurants are warm and enveloping. Most have their original bars, with experienced bartenders who know how to make classic cocktails such as an Old Fashioned, Sidecar, Manhattan, Whiskey Sour, or Sazerac.
Flaming dishes prepared tableside offer the patron a theatrical experience markedly different from typical restaurants, which helps justify the cost of fine dining and attracts special event celebrations where elegant service and high prices are part of the appeal.
Whether fine dining or historic, classic American restaurants from the last century deserve our attention and patronage. Go to these places now. Don't wait. This may be your last chance to immerse yourself in a vanishing world.
(The Dal Rae is at 9023 E. Washington Blvd. Pico Rivera, CA 90660. 562-949-2444 for reservations and information. Many more classic SoCal restaurants are listed in Moruzzi's book.)
Song of the week: "Through the Yard" by Kauf
This week’s Off-Ramp song of the week, "Through the Yard,” is by Kauf, a Los Angeles producer named Ronald Kaufman. Daiana Feuer of buzzbands.la said of the track:
Flutes, world-inspired rhythms, echo-laden vocals and a smooth, slowed-down disco progression make this a pretty relaxing club track, a shoulder-shaker for sure; pair with a nice cold icy beverage, preferably blue-colored.
https://soundcloud.com/kauf/through-the-yard-kcrw
“Through the Yard” is the first single off his upcoming debut album “Regrowth,” to come out soon on One Half Records.
Kauf plays the Echo Wednesday, March 23 with Stormzy and Lizzo.
As Metro seeks ideas for what to build at Mariachi Plaza, musicians weigh in
Black Mountain: The tiny arts school that spawned giants
Off-Ramp commentator Marc Haefele reviews "Leap Before You Look: Black Mountain College 1933-1957," at the Hammer Museum through May 15.
“Give the pupils something to do, not something to learn; and the doing is of such a nature as to demand thinking; learning naturally results.” ― John Dewey
For nearly a quarter century, it was the vortex of the Lively American Arts — music, poetry, painting, sculpture, weaving, theater, and, overwhelmingly, dance. And a new show at the Hammer takes you there. It was called Black Mountain College. BMC wasn’t in the heart of a great city like New York, but straddled some Blue Ridge hillsides in faraway Buncombe County, North Carolina.
BMC gave few diplomas, and was never even accredited, but it nurtured American avant-garde culture like no other institution in its time. Great artistic innovators of the past century — John Cage, David Tudor, Robert Rauschenberg, Merce Cunningham, Robert Creeley, Charles Olson, Ruth Asawa, both of the De Koonings, Buckminster Fuller, Catherine Litz, and Cy Twombly — established themselves at BMC. Other great ones — like Einstein and Aldous Huxley — offered their benedictions as they passed through.
Born in 1933, during one of the darkest moments of the Great Depression, Black Mountain withered away, paradoxically, in 1957, a peak year of America’s Eisenhower Era affluence. Strange that it survived the Depression, to be brought down by America prosperity.
But now we can all encounter what it was all about, thanks to the gregarious and plentiful show at the Hammer Museum. Warning: It’s sure to make you wish you had been there.
"Leap Before You Look: Black Mountain College 1933–1957" is curated by Helen Molesworth for The Institute of Contemporary Art in Boston before she moved to MOCA. It's a singular show that combines the history, accomplishments and even what you might call the anthropology of Black Mountain. Molesworth was also lead editor on the magnificent catalog, also called “Leap Before You Look,” which could have been BMC’s mission statement. It formed out of two separate exiles — that of progressive educator John Rice, who was booted out of Florida’s conservative Rollins College, and Josef and Anni Albers, whom Hitler drove out of Germany. For about half of the BMC’s history, Rice and the Albers formed an uneasy partnership in running the school and setting its goals.
The variety of BMC innovations on display is just staggering: There’s Buckminster Fuller’s first successful geodesic dome, for instance. There are vivid primary works by Robert Rauschenberg (who was still calling himself Milton then), Robert Motherwell, Franz Kline and Ben Shahn. There are mysterious music scores by John Cage and rare film clips of Merce Cunningham performing, creating both his style and the troupe that was to dance it. At times his troupe included the faun-like Rauschenberg, Bucky Fuller, and grizzly-sized poet Charles Olson. There is Anni Albers’ monster loom, and examples of the extraordinary textiles she and her weaving students produced.
Oddly, what sank most deeply into my memory was the extraordinary art jewelry Ms. Albers and her students accomplished — all out of homely ingredients like bottle corks, hairpins, colanders, and plumbers’ washers. She was fulfilling one of her husband’s mandates: to create art out of whatever comes to hand.
There were plenty of other philosophies at Black Mountain, one of them being the distinction between education and instruction. It appears there was plenty of both: there are abounding photographs of buff young men and women in shorts and shirts, wielding picks and shovels as they dig ditches and foundations for their expanded campus, among others of them playing fiddles, practicing drawing, learning to throw pots and studying on the campus’s grassy hillsides. And dancing, dancing — in addition to Cunningham’s inclusive troupe, BMC hosted up to three social dances a week.
But it couldn’t last.
There were severe, growing divisions even in the tiny BMC population. And on some serious issues, too, like whether black students should be allowed to live on campus. In 1945, the students overruled the faculty and made BMC the first integrated college in the South.
Also, BMC was becoming less necessary. Prosperous postwar America was accepting its avant-garde — Jackson Pollack was featured in LIFE magazine. Albers took a post at Yale; even the way-out John Cage got a job at Wesleyan. By 1956, BMC enrollment had shrunk to a handful. Acting rector Charles Olsen, who had once written “What does not change is the will to change,” found himself in the uncomfortable position of having to close the place down. He greeted each departing student with an offer of a drink for the road. And the goodbye message: “Now, Arise.”
By 1957, most of Black Mountain’s artist pioneers had fled North (largely to New York) and West (often to San Francisco). But 60 years later, the nearby North Carolina city of Asheville still sees the ripple effect of the college, which now has a museum of its own downtown. Right now, the museum is hosting a show of the works of abstract colorist Ray Spillenger, who studied at Black Mountain with Willem de Kooning and Josef Albers and then moved to New York to become what some called “America’s greatest unknown painter” and who was the last of the old-line abstractionists when he died in 2013. Admission is free. It’s on 56 Broadway in Asheville.
So what's happening now where Black Mountain College was?
Across the street is the Center for Craft, Creativity and Design, which maintains and extends many Black Mountain creative traditions. The whole surrounding Asheville River Arts District, with its architecture dating back to the 19th Century, is a lively conglomeration of artists, restaurants and bars.
Just as there was at Black Mountain, locals say there are bounties of creativity in Asheville’s theatre, spoken word, music and visual art. 25 minutes away, Madison County still has its strong traditional music heartbeat. But it’s developing its own artistic traditions.
New Hilbert Museum's ambitious goal: Represent all California art in last 100 years
In an unpretentious but attractive part of the City of Orange’s Old Town, right across Atchison Street from the local Metro Link Station, there is a brand new art museum. It’s called, after its donors and patrons Mark and Janet Hilbert, the Hilbert Museum of California Art.
The Hilbert is associated with Chapman University, and proposes to represent all of California art over the past century. Right now, it is largely devoted to the style called California Scene Painting.
What makes a California scene painting? The museum says the genre is based on the work of earlier California water colorists, “highly creative and imaginative in their individual approaches, but always produced works based on subject matter that is easy to recognize.”
To me, the missing word here is “evocative.” This scene painting puts you in someplace enjoyable where you have been or would like to be. Much of what’s being shown at the Hilbert, skillful as it is, is fundamentally pleasing and reassuring, even uplifting; pictures to relax into over an icy glass of good Scotch after a hard working day. Nothing disturbing like, say, a grinding, tragic coastal shipwreck by these artists’ Monterey contemporary Armin Hansen, with its implications of the transitory.
But many do more than that. Whether it is William Jekel’s delightfully Hopperish “Night” street scene of World War 2 San Pedro or Phil Dike’s contrastingly upper-class 1934 “Regatta,” the sense of place is powerful, as it is with the works of other well-known artists like Dong Kingman, Lee Blair, and particularly Millard Sheets.
The featured piece of the show is Sheets’ twilight view of the original San Dimas Red Car station, the complexity of whose lighting is worthy of a Rene Magritte street scene. Sheets completed the study shortly before the station burned down in the 1930s. What seemed most emotive to me were the paintings, like this one, that benchmark our loss of a more human urban environment. Two more: With its shattered green hillsides, Ralph Hulett’s landscape of Bunker Hill in the earliest stages of its 1960s demolition feels like a lost urban pastoral. So does Russian-born Mischa Askenazy’s immaculate rendering of the peaceable and doomed Chavez Ravine.
French-born Emil Kosa Jr.'s delicate depiction of the Hollywood Freeway downtown interchange’s eradication of a huge swath of humble urban landscape has an emotional power no number of old black and white photographs can muster.
It’s interesting that many of the artists on display had day jobs at the big studios. Hulett, who also created a line of stylish greeting cards, started out in California as an animator working on Disney’s “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.” Kosa’s decades as another kind of scene painter—a studio illustrator--eventually won him the industry’s highest prize: a 1963 Oscar for his special effects on the blockbuster Burton-Taylor film “Cleopatra.”
But if you want to see what was in their hearts and souls, that’s what’s on display now at the Hilbert, and it's an hour's train ride from Downtown LA.
The Hilbert Museum of California Art: 167 N. Atchison St, Orange CA 92866; Open Tuesday thru Saturday, 11am – 5pm; closed Sunday and Monday.