3525 South Bronson Ave.

Greetings all! Marsak here. Remember when I used to look at demo permits and blog about the structures? Good times. I’ll get back to it, I swear. I’ve been completely consumed with this book project the last few months. Big thank-you to Kim who’s been keeping the flame alive here at RIP!

But I saw this today and just had to toss it out there. There’s an Instagram page called southlabuildings, which I love, because I love South Los Angeles so damn much.

Go add them on your IG

And I love this house to an absurd degree. It was listed for sale recently. The listing read in part:

Which reads “tear this down and build a giant-ass box you crazy bastards!”

The house was listed, relisted and delisted, so who knows what’s going on with it. There is/was apparently a demo permit issued, as evidenced by this photo, though there’s nothing about the issuance of a demolition permit proper at City Planning or on ZIMAS—

Although at DBS we do have confirmation that they’ve gone through and have had their Plan Check approved, which does not bode well—

So let’s talk a bit about this house. Of course every developer from God-knows-where wants to tear it down—to build a superdense coronavirus hotbox that looks like some preteen’s Jenga tower—and, I might add, without a thought of moving it. Moving it, you say? Who does that? Well you know, it was moved here after all.

That’s right, it came from somewhere else. Figueroa south of downtown used to be full of grand homes, once upon a time (like, say, this one). And Martin Bekins’s house at 1341 South Figueroa St., built in the spring/summer of 1907, was one of them. Martin Bekins is yes, THAT Bekins. Read more about him here and here. Bekins & family stayed in the house until downtown grew up around them and in the early-mid 1920s built something larger and with more property out in Eagle Rock.

When you live in a big house on Figueroa, muckety-mucks come speak in your living room, and then you make them governor

The architect of 1341 South Figueroa was John A. Mathis. Mathis came to Los Angeles in 1885 and established the Mathis Construction Company. He built all over the southland. Below is another Mathis house; from what I can tell, it and Bronson are the sole remaining two.

2225 West Twentieth St., J. A. Mathis, 1905. This house just underwent renovation and restoration. Why can’t our friend on Bronson? C’mon Jefferson Park! Don’t let West Adams make a fool of ya!

Anyway, after Bekins moved to Eagle Rock in the mid-1920s, the spot at 1341 was needed for something else (Bekins Co. built a commercial structure on the site, which disappeared in the early 1970s, and it’s all Convention Center down there now), so the house was picked up and moved by Welte House Moving Co. in the spring of 1929, where she’s been ever since.

And there‘s a wishing well! Let’s all go toss in some coins and envision her restoration

I mean look at the old girl. Not stucco’d, the chimneys are there, all original windows, the porches haven’t been enclosed…incredible. Large corner lot. If ever a home could come back, and be a showplace and a feather in the cap of Los Angeles, it is this one.

So what say ye, Los Angeles?

Third Strike, Wiseman

Not that your name is Wiseman, Messrs. Cohanzad, but whoever you are, you have done this for the last time. On behalf of Los Angeles, seriously, enough is enough. As Marsellus Wallace says to Butch, you’ve lost all your LA privileges.

RIPsters, we speak of Michael and Isaac Cohanzad; architect Isaac established Wiseman Residential in 1985. Wiseman Residential put their hearts into designing homes you’ll love.

That may be, but they put their efforts into illegally demolishing homes you already love.

Example #1. This was 419 N. Hayworth:

The Spanish number at left is 413-15 N. Hayworth; designed by the great Joe Eudemiller in 1931, who gave Los Angeles a lot of Spanish charm in the 1930s. The French Normandy with Chateauesque influence, center, is 419-21 N. Hayworth; it was built in 1936 and designed by David C. Coleman (check out his synagogue at 2521 West View) for the Spinning Wheel Corp.

The Spinning Wheel apartments were twins, in fact, facing a common courtyard, and absolutely pristine: original windows, hardwood floors, high ceilings, all of its moldings and turrets and whatnot. Until one day, this happened:

If you look verrrry closely you’ll see it say’s “SAVE THIS BUILDING” in the window on the building at far right. Guess how that turns out?

That day was February 12, 2015. Wiseman began tearing off the turrets, and also demolishing elements of the Spanish next door, without a permit from LADBS. Without green demo fencing. Without a thirty-day notice. Without clearance from HCIDLA. Without turning off gas and electric. There were no repercussions for this and the City gave them a permit to demo on March 13.

Building “Hayworth Hyde.”

FYI, the other half of the turreted eight-unit 1936 garden court apartments—well, the renters banded together to get it nominated as a Historic-Cultural Monument, citing that it was a rare intact piece of Normandy Revival, and that it was important culturally as an early piece of Jewish-built and owned property for a neighborhood famously Hebraicising in the 1930s. Michael & Isaac voice their “strong opposition to the proposed designation of the Property on both substantive and procedural grounds” and so forth; the Cultural Heritage Commission nix the nomination and this time Wiseman presumably get a permit:

Wisemanizing the whole block. That’s Hayworth Hyde at left. A two bedroom is 968sf. They start at $3895.

Let’s move on to

Example #2. This was 1332 N. Formosa Avenue:

Built in 1925 and designed by D. F. Hancock; check out Hancock’s four-unit at 1145 Gordon St., and 1257 Bronson/5910 Fountain

In this case, Wiseman tossed everyone out via the Ellis Act. Wiseman would be unable to Airbnb the apartments, because short-term rentals of evictions are decidedly, blatantly against that law (and reprobate), so that is therefore exactly what they did. HCIDLA told them to stop, and Wiseman responded by beginning demolition work. Again, without a permit. HCIDLA came out multiple times with stop-work orders and so Wiseman finally destroyed the building—with the electricity and gas still on—on January 21, 2017. Read more about it here and here.

The cute little Storybook had quite a view to the north there…for a little while…
Hey look at that big thing they built there. Because again, not even a slap on the wrist.

Up next is

Example #3. This is 7050-60 Hawthorn Ave:

Yep, you can barely see its Colonial Revival glory behind the foliage. It’s a damn tranquil oasis in the middle of Hollywood
No, seriously: this is the heart of Hollywood (that’s the Hollywood Roosevelt at bottom left) and 7050 Hawthorn, center-right, is the sole, solitary green spot in all of town. We must do away with that grass! say the do-gooders, conveniently ignoring that grass traps stormwater runoff, reduces noise pollution, keeps the air cooler, cleans the air, traps CO2, produces oxygen, reduces dust pollution, and filters groundwater…

7050 Hawthorn was built in early 1941; the architect was Gene Verge. Among his works are Buster Keaton’s pad; St. Luke’s Hospital; and these rather grand houses.

Well you know where we’re going with this. In every survey commissioned by the City, Verge’s 7050 complex is identified as a historic resource. Did that worry its owners? AKA Isaac, Benjamin, Michael and Lillian TRS Cohanzad and the Family Trust of Cohanzad? Of course not! They had the place half-rented as an illegal short-term rental hotel, and it was time to get the remainder of those pesky long-term renters out. They began Ellising those folk in October 2019—but that’s always a tricky time, ‘cuz Ellising indicates a building is likely to be demolished, and that red flag might trigger a monument nomination.

So in the middle of the night, with the gas still on, no permit from LADBS, no thirty-day notice, no notice to neighbors, no HCIDLA clearances, they started demolition. No no no, they insisted, this wasn’t demolition, this was abatement.

Uh-huh. This was the abatement of the historic, character-defining features, making it ineligible for landmark designation. (A trick they learned, apparently, from Philip Rahimzadeh—another prolific developer who literally knows everything about LA development law—but when he had recently illegally demo’d the facade of an effing Paul Williams he said “gosh, who knew?” and the City said “golly, oh well!”)

Let’s take a look at what abatement looks like. This is the sort of abatement—not demolition, mind you, but abatement—that occurred over the course of one night.

They were abating what, exactly?

And you know what else? The three I’ve spoken about above are just the illegal ones. The Cohanzads have this pathological fetish for destroying particularly wonderful Los Angeles structures. I don’t have an up-to-date list, but I do know that in just 2017 alone, five Historic Cultural Monument applications were filed for buildings owned by Wiseman LLCs. None lived to tell the tale; each met the wrecking ball. Here’s one of the best—moved forward with a positive recommendation from the Cultural Heritage Commission, the whole bit:

106 S. Kings Road. Built by Joseph J. Rees for Samuel Aidlin in 1936, it’s Streamline Moderne, a fine and iconic early representative of the Beverly Square Development Tract. From 1936-40 it was as well the home of Rudolph Ising.
At the bottom of a landfill now.

So that’s my issue. There’s three million buildings in the county, and Wiseman’s abjuring each empty lot and every strip mall in favor of every Streamline-Colonial-Spanish-Norman interbellum apartment complex they can get their hands on, provided they’re pristine and have a surfeit of charm.

And not, you know, the fact that they evict rent-controlled tenants through the Ellis Act and then Airbnb the units, dozens of documented times, which is immoral and illegal. (Which they do because the City will never so much as slap their hand.) They’ve demolished about forty Rent Stabilized apartment buildings in Los Angeles; something like 300-350 RSO apartments removed from the housing stock—all replaced with million-dollar condominiums and $4000/mo apartments. (Which they do because we need housing, says the City.) Hey, remember that piece in Curbed, “Ten of the Worst Landlords in Los Angeles“—no? Probably not, because Curbed retracted it when they were bullied by said landlords! Well, guess what it said.

So if any or all of this irks you, dear reader, I’ve got an idea: you might want to show up at the PLUM meeting on Tuesday, February 4th (yes, tomorrow). 2:30pm. It’s number five on the agenda. Mitch O’Farrell has nominated Hawthorn for Historic Cultural Monument status! Hollywood Heritage and the neighborhood are pressuring for Wiseman to rebuild. If not, they need to get the Scorched Earth punishment (no development on the site for five years). (Personally, given their absurd repeated bad faith, they should be barred from developing altogether—go RICO on them, prevent them from fraternizing with the owners of bulldozers. And so forth.)

Wiseman & Co. are going to be there, lawyered up all and smart-talkin’, so it’s important to have you good folk speak in favor of this nomination at public comment.


The Cranky Preservationist: Who Breaks A Butterfly Upon The Wheel (episode 18)

Architectural historian Nathan Marsak loves Los Angeles, and hates to see important buildings neglected and abused, whether by slumlord owners or the savage public. Follow him on his urban adventures as he sees something that looks like crap, opens his yap and spontaneously lets you know exactly why this place matters. Episode Eighteen finds Nathan in Pico-Union, on the 800 block of South Mariposa, where he is horrified to discover that the row of endangered early 20th century apartments that he came to celebrate are at this very moment being reduced to rubble by a guy driving an excavator. Nathan laments his failure to properly document a lost slice of classic Los Angeles and urges concerned Angelenos to hop to it when they see those green demolition fences go up, whether it’s with their camera, a pry-bar or by protesting, landmarking and electing better public servants so our beautiful city stays that way.

If you like these Cranky Preservationist videos, you’ll probably like Nathan’s R.I.P. Los Angeles blog, too, so check it out.

Where will the Cranky Preservationist turn up next? Stay tuned!

Cranky about Facebook? This video is also on YouTube

Catch all the rants

The Cranky Preservationist: The Battle of Normandie (episode 17)

Architectural historian Nathan Marsak loves Los Angeles, and hates to see important buildings neglected and abused, whether by slumlord owners or the savage public. Follow him on his urban adventures as he sees something that looks like crap, opens his yap and spontaneously lets you know exactly why this place matters.  

Episode Seventeen finds Nathan in the Byzantine-Latino District, aka Pico Heights, deeply troubled to find half a long block of early 20th Century bungalows and apartments boarded up behind razor wire, pending demolition for an upzoned Transit Oriented Communities project. Nathan laments the loss of green space, setbacks and neighborhood character, fails to charm a doggie, snickers at the disingenuous claim of developer-funded Sacramento pol Scott Wiener that single family homes are somehow “racist,” and reminds his fans to put on a sweater already.

If you like these Cranky Preservationist videos, you’ll probably like Nathan’s R.I.P. Los Angeles blog, too, so check it out.

Where will the Cranky Preservationist turn up next? Stay tuned! 

1517-23 W. 8th St.

They won’t be happy until every shingled building in Los Angeles is gone. I mean, they’re kind of obsessed with them. They who? Everybody. Both sides of the political spectrum. Social engineers on their path of well-intentioned apocalypse in concert with the developers who play them for useful idiots, that’s who. I honestly don’t care who. Just stop tearing down all the wooden houses already.

The surface lot next to the Adelphia (Leonard A. Cook, 1913), and two adjoining single family homes, is to be built upon with a TOC project developed by the Nemans.

1521; 1523, left, behind the tree
Poor Adelphia, tallest thing on the block for 107 years, now to have a seven-story building gleefully five-foot side yard all jammed up against your windows

It’s unclear when these two were built; the Assessor doesn’t list build dates and they’re not on DBS, which places them pre-1905. 1521 West 8th is listed as a fine six-room house for rent “to responsible party with references” in November 1902; it is soon occupied by Edward A. Geissler, Vice President of the George J. Bickel Company, who stays through 1906.

Also in the early years of the century, its neighbor 1523 was taking in boarders, and by 1906 you could go to an auction of all their nifty stuff:

Same old story: developers replace two large houses with a piddly few low-income units, and’re therefore given carte blanche to build tall and dense with no open space, and God forbid you have a car

Some will argue, but these aren’t that good. Or important. But I want you to remember them. Because soon there won’t be any of them. There will be nothing but eighty-foot boxes with no open space—just like this project—because that’s what y’all voted for with your Measure JJJ, bless your little hearts.