Take the Art Train
Metro Art in Los Angeles

The city's rep as a Mecca of freeways notwithstanding, I didn't fear being there on foot. After all, Los Angeles once had a proud public transit system: at its prewar peak, the Pacific Electric Railway's Red Cars spanned over 1100 track miles.

So I gambled that Metro Rail's modern-day subway could get me around, and set out to conquer car-crazy LA, sans automobile.

While I found that LA's love affair with the auto continues wholeheartedly, by utilizing Metro Rail’s three subway lines (Red, Blue and Green) I was able to access top cultural attractions, and hidden gems across town.

As a tourist, I found the system efficient, clean, and armed with an $11 weekly pass, plenty cheap.

A Tough Beginning

From its groundbreaking in the early 1980s, however, Metro Rail has divided Angelinos. Early praise for the system soured after construction delays, massive cost overruns (topping $4.7 billion by June 2000), and embarrassing gaffes such as 1995's notorious 300-foot sinkhole along Hollywood Boulevard. Voters rejected further expansion in 1998 by approving a ballot measure that killed transit sales taxes, effectively freezing development.

But one unquestioned Metro Rail success has been its ambitious public art program, Metro Art. During construction, Metro Rail allocated 0.5% of its costs for art projects in all the stations.

The resulting series of murals, installations, and sculptures lend color and culture to the routine of commute. Furthermore, Metro Art captures the flavor and myths of Los Angeles neighborhoods, from North Hollywood to South Central.

Public art is essential to “those people indigenous to the art - the community,” says San Francisco-based visual artist JoeSam., whose “Hide-n-Seek” illuminates the Imperial/Wilmington Station. Oftentimes, it’s the sole outlet available.

“People forget the chasm that exists between the fine art world and the community,” he says.

Giant figures of kids at play adorn freeway columns of the station, a hub for the blue and green lines. Throughout the system, artists pay homage to the history and legacy of the neighborhoods.

And Metro Art has proven a hit: Popular docent-led walking tours have a six-week waiting list.

In the meantime, I had called Metro Rail (213-922-4278) for its free self-guided Metro Art kit.

Deplaning at LAX, I soon gathered one Metro Rail glitch – it doesn’t run to the airport. The Green Line runs nearby, but oddly bypasses the airport, hooking south to Redondo Beach (and earning its “Surfer Line” moniker) instead.

So I walked to the island, and hailed a shuttle to Santa Monica. After dropping my bags, I hustled to Wilshire Boulevard to catch the 720 Rapido Bus.

When I'd first viewed Metro Rail's system map, I'd noticed a glaring discrepancy – no service to the West Side. Instead, an odd fork of the Red Line down Wilshire stopped abruptly in Mid-City.

City planners had intended to run the Red Line further west, but a 1985 methane gas explosion in the Fairfax District scuttled that agenda. Studies revealed methane and hydrogen sulfide gas along the route, and left engineers scrambling for an alternate path.

Eventually they steered the line north, into the San Fernando Valley.

People Coming, People Going

I disembarked at the Wilshire/Western Station, where an open plaza and steep, yellow escalators marked the subway's western terminus. A steady trickle of riders moved about, multiethnic as in Richard Wyatt's tile murals, "People Coming/People Going".
I noticed the lack of ticket gateways. Metro Rail operates barrier-free, relying on the honor system (and, I later learned, LAPD patrols.)

The Red Line, calling at Hollywood and Universal City, gets the bulk of tourist travel. (It got the lion's share of the funding, too, more than double the Blue and Green Lines combined.)

Studies show Red Line passenger numbers steadily rising (an average of 150,025 weekday boardings in June 2001), though when I boarded I had my choice of seats. I'd planned to shuttle along the system, hopping on and off to view the art.

Looking skyward at the Wilshire/Vermont station the "Los Angeles Seen", mobiles by Peter Shire floated above the platform. Whimsical acrobats, Korean hats, and Mexican crafts greeted passengers descending the escalator.

Along the Red Line, installations ranged from simple (Robert Millar's existential "Questions" at Vermont/Santa Monica) to over-the-top (Sheila Klein's unfolding "set within a box" at Hollywood/Highland.)

And neighborhoods were duly represented: Michael Davis' sci-fi motif evoked nearby Griffith Observatory (Vermont/Sunset); Margaret Garcia told the history of Mexico's 1847 relinquishing of California at Campo de Cahuenga (Universal City).

Metro Art crescendos appropriately at Hollywood and Vine, where Gilbert "Magu" Lujan lined the ceiling with film reels, installed projectors, hand-painted tile, and sculpted hotrod themed benches.

Rebounding Hollywood

Iconic Hollywood images (Mann's Chinese Theatre, a limo, the Brown Derby restaurant) stand street-side marking the station entrance.

Like any good tourist, I walked Hollywood Boulevard, eager to welcome in movietown's charms. Interpretive signs detailed the glory days, and construction projects testified to the neighborhood's ongoing revitalization.

Most notably, the massive TrizecHahn development rising above the Hollywood/Highland station will welcome back Oscar next year, when the Academy moves its awards show to the new Kodak Theatre.

No openings graced the renovated El Capitan and Egyptian Theaters that evening, so I headed to Thai Town (Hollywood/Western) for dinner before the long bus ride to the ocean.

Uniformed officers patrolling the Hollywood/Vine Station checked my fast pass, testing my Metro Rail honesty. Fines for gatejumpers start at $76, they told me, with repeat offenders risking felony burglary charges.

A glorious beach run the next morning reminded me why I stay in Santa Monica. Smoothie in hand, I hopped an early bus to the Red Line, which I took downtown to its end at Union Station.

Terry Schoonhaven's mural "Traveler" welcomed Red Line riders with its timescape of historical travelers (Carol Lombard, Pio Pico) arriving in LA.

El Pueblo de Los Angeles

Completed in 1939 to the tune of $11 million, Union Station is an architectural jewel, a Spanish Colonial design with soaring arches that lead to bronze Art Deco chandeliers above an inlaid marble concourse.

The last of the great western train stations, Union Station calls up the golden age of rail travel; its weathered brown and sepia tones make it a favorite location of filmmakers.
I snacked at Union Bagel, then walked out to Olvera Street, and LA's birthplace. El Pueblo de Los Angeles featured shops and vintage shade trees standing where LA's original eleven families settled in 1781.

Advertisements throughout Metro Rail directed traffic toward local attractions like Olvera Street.

At Pershing Square I gazed up at the Angels Flight funicular railway (closed since a fatal accident last February); by the Civic Center I wandered Little Tokyo and tried recalling movie settings outside LA City Hall.

At 7th Street/Metro Center, I switched to the electric trolleys of the Blue Line, descending like the passengers in Roberto Gil de Montes' allegorical triptych "Heaven and Earth." We surfaced outside the postmodern Staples Center, headed south to Long Beach.

The landscape grew decidedly more urban. Hollywood's Hills receded, and low coastal clouds signaled water ahead.

Approaching 103rd Street, my next destination climbed into focus: the rising spires of Simon Rodia's folk art masterpiece, Watts Towers.

Rodia spent 33 years constructing his towers, working alone with simple tools and no blueprints. He used concrete, steel bars, and a mosaic of found objects, pottery shards, glass, and seashells to erect 15 spires and buildings, the tallest of which crested at 99.5 feet.

Long a Red Car transit hub, the 103rd Street Station honored its predecessors with Robert Salas' "Blue Line Totems in Red," a series of platform columns adorned with classic shapes from conductor's bygone ticket punches.

Hide-n-Seek in South Central

At the next stop, Imperial/Wilmington, I inspected JoeSam.’s figures. Local school kids had been active in designing “Hide-n-Seek”, he said, and many figures represent actual area kids.

“The kids from South Central were all involved,” says JoeSam. “And they loved it.”
I pushed on to Long Beach, where I inspected the subway platforms as the Blue Line looped through downtown, then fell asleep as the train clacked 22 miles back to LA.

I woke for a quick stop at the Museum of Neon Art (Pico Station), where vintage signs and neon odes hearkened the dawn of LA car culture.

Riding back to Santa Monica, I pictured old LA, crawling with Red Cars. While Metro Rail provides a welcome respite from the freeways, I couldn’t help but wonder while waiting on the bus how it could have been, if not for the methane gas.

– Jay Cooke is a San Francisco-based travel, food, and culture writer.

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