I’m hip only in the musculo-skeletal sense that I have a pair. I’m certainly not hip in the socio-cultural sense of effortlessly saddling up and riding the vanguard of individualism. My unhipness becomes that much more apparent by the fact that I not only attempt to differentiate between me and those who are, but that I attempt to define those who are.
Bear with me. I do have a point and it’s around here somewhere, first to be prefaced with the 20 or so decidedly unhip times (8 a.m., 2 p.m., 7:30 p.m., you get the idea) I’ve driven or biked by the above-pictured theater in Echo Park on Sunset Boulevard just west of Alvarado over the past 16 months that I’ve lived in the area. During that time and those drive-bys it has always looked like this: battened down and dark. Now, being so square and traveling at such L7 ticks on the tocker, I have no way of knowing if this space might come alive as an after-hours club or avant garde performance space. If so, excellent. If not, why is this place dormant and who put it to sleep? Can anyone with deeper roots and a firmer grasp clue me in as to how a space with such creative potential could be so dark in what is purportedly such an arts-minded conglomeration of communities?
Sure, outrageous rents and limited parking are probably part of the sad reality of its emptiness and silence. Sadder still is that perhaps only in my daydreams while sitting at the lame Starbucks across the street sipping an uber-goober grande caramel frap will I ever see all that stupid white paint sandblasted off of what must be a wonderful brick facade beneath which a popular restaurant bustles on the left with after-show patrons next to the marquee on the right which is ablaze with: Sunset Playhouse Presents: Echo Park Playwrights Festival. Now wouldn’t that be sweet?