Clearance

Word on the street is we are living in undeniably generative times. The signs of growth are everywhere. On Melrose, new flagships and boutiques are sprouting up to the cacophonous soundtrack of jackhammers pounding the pavement. Down the avenue and around the way, “L.A.’s coolest neighborhood,” as one headline put it, is blossoming with a little ASMR, courtesy of the cement mixers churning next door. Meanwhile, sprinkled between the porta potties demarcating “new developments” from Mid-City to West Adams, you’ll find the budding aspirational class of L.A. trying, desperately, to thrive in silence.

“Many things in the world have not been named; and many things, even if they have been named, have never been described.” We’re not talking about the cult of “Camp” Susan Sontag wrote of but an emerging design sensibility that is creeping to the fore: “Hedges-in-training” are the new visual language of the city — they’re up-and-coming, just like the neighborhood. They signal something, though what exactly is only for those in the know. A quick snapshot for the visually inclined: Hedges-in-training are tall, sparse hedges, usually affixed to a support system —a gentri-fence, wires, support rods — that one day (hopefully) will form a wall of privacy around one’s little plot. Their defining feature is possibility; they’re an investment that might yield over time. Hedges-in-training have yet to reach their full potential, so passersby can see everything playing out in the interim.

Maybe it’s a private work-life moment unfolding in the bedroom window — a person receives a wild Slack from one of those unserious people at work and then must compose himself before crafting the perfect “professional” response. Maybe it’s a guilty pleasure one wishes others didn’t know about, like an embarrassing show being streamed on the tube. Or maybe it’s family time in the yard: a playdate, kickball, tag, a picnic, a few spirits to the face. The so-called good life is all right there for the flaneurs walking by or the Uber drivers motoring along. Soon it won’t be. The perfect hideaway is on layaway until those hedges mature.

The thing about hedges-in-training is that they never quite look like they belong. The story of architecture in Los Angeles is a “this is fine” saga, no matter how bizarre or unhinged. L.A. lives on the nose — from the luxury “members-only” gym overlooking an encampment to the military-grade chopper landing on La Brea. Everything is by design; we learn to live with the drama as it plays out in front of us, despite the obviousness of the alternatives.

What if what we are growing toward isn’t the wave? Would you dare to pull up the roots and try again, or keep watering, stubbornly trying to will a predetermined future into existence? We’ll be the first to tell you: We’re in the former camp. It is time to clear some space. Welcome to “Clearance” — a design issue committed to making the necessary trims. When you take a little off the top, what you find might surprise you: a future that looks nothing like what you’ve seen before.

Ian F. Blair
Editor in Chief

Image logo by Meeta Panesar For The Times