Pershing Square (Los Angeles, California)

 square, park, plaza

532 South Olive Street
Los Angeles, CA 90013
(213) 847-4970
www.laparks.org/pershingsquare/

In a city in which little is permanent, Pershing Square has been a model of civic re-invention. The 4 1/2-acre park has gone by eight names and had almost as many face-lifts as a series of renovations (one every two decades or so) has tried to keep up with downtown's changes.
In the 1930s and 1940s it was our version of New York's Central Park, a meeting place in a bustling city that inspired writers such as John Fante and Carey McWilliams. By the 1960s the drugs and crime underscored downtown's rapid decline. In the early 1990s the park was remade again to reflect the "new" Los Angeles, with a design centered on a Mayan amphitheater meant to celebrate the region's Latin roots, and discourage the homeless from hanging around.
The City of Los Angeles is about to take the scalpel to Pershing Square again, this time to better serve the residential population that has moved downtown. Plans call for more grass, less concrete and perhaps even space for residents' dogs to run.
When looked at from above, as in this satellite image, Pershing Square resembles a kind of village, with a 125-foot, bright purple bell tower at its center and "streets" radiating from there, but it's at ground level that the park's problems become clear.
Low walls surrounding the park separate it from the busy downtown streets, and the division isolates rather than insulates. Inside the walls, areas of the park are divided by steps, grades and other low barriers. Under a noonday summer sun, the glare off an expansive stretch of hardscape makes it very uncomfortable to linger anywhere, even next to the shallow, circular pool.
Benches are pushed against the park's raised outer walls. Cafe tables clutter the inside of the space, but few chairs are available. A stage at the north end of the park, where concerts play during the summer and movies have been shown in recent months, is off-limits most of the time. The park could be better than it is but question whether it can ever return to its glory days.
Pershing Square in the 1940s was a leafy refuge, teeming with lots of people, on soapboxes or benches, talking about politics or religion.
Pershing Square began in part as a real estate deal. In 1866 that section of downtown was mostly residential. Raw acreage came relatively cheap. The owners of land adjacent to the dusty parcel were looking to protect their property values.
At first the park was largely an open space ringed by a white picket fence, which helped keep the livestock out.
As the city grew, trees were cut down and flowers and a bandstand were added, but soon the city fathers decided on something grander and more sophisticated for the big city that Los Angeles was rapidly becoming.
In 1910 architect John Parkinson, who would go on to design City Hall and Union Station, laid out a design with clumps of bamboo and cypress trees, wide paths crossing diagonally from each corner and a three-tier fountain adorned with four cherubs at the center. In 1918 it was rechristened with a name that stuck: Pershing Square, after General John J. Pershing, commander of U.S. forces in World War I.
In 1923 the Biltmore Hotel opened across the street, adding to the feel that Pershing Square was the crossroads of Los Angeles.
That all ended with the rise of that new fangled contraption, the automobile.
Hoping to keep downtown competitive with suburban shopping malls, officials in 1955 built underground parking with large concrete ramps leading into the garage. The cherub fountain was taken out. Later, a number of trees were removed (which Walt Disney reportedly took to his new theme park in down in Anaheim.)
By that time, the late 1950s, downtown L.A. was in major decline.
Department stores closed; the trolley that brought people into the city stopped running and was then completely dismantled.
Pershing Square suffered the most, becoming a magnet for crime, drugs and homelessness.
(John Rechy described these days, when the park was also a center for gay cruising, in his novel "City of Night.")
By the late 1980s the Biltmore Hotel had (literally!) turned its back on the park, in that a renovation moved its entrance from Olive Street to the west side of the building, on Grand Avenue.
Embarrassed city leaders opted for another overhaul.
Architects Ricardo Legoretta and Laurie Olin promised it would be "an inspiring symbol of affirmation for the future of Los Angeles." Grass gave way to decomposed granite and stenciled concrete, materials chosen to discourage camping out in the space and enhance security. In many ways, the park's spartan design matched downtown's landscape at the time, and few people called the city center "home."
Over the last decade, more than 20,000 residents have moved into the city center, and one of their biggest complaints has been a lack of park space.
Councilwoman Jan Perry and other city officials are considering changes to the park to better serve the new residential population. Officials have agreed to make improvements to the Palm Court area, and there is talk of reserving space for dogs.
The developer of the proposed Park Fifth condominium towers across the street has agreed to set aside $10 million for park improvements if the towers are built.
Many of the nearby buildings, such as the Title Guarantee and the Subway Terminal, have been redeveloped as pricey loft spaces.
The only constant in this neighborhood is change itself.

Views of the square from 1888 to 1953: www.publicartinla.com/Downtown/figueroa/Pershing_Square...

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