Leo Politi! Bunker Hill!

There’s a wonderful new exhibit up at the Central Library—a vaster collection of Leo Politi’s original paintings from his celebrated book Bunker Hill, Los Angeles: Reminiscences of Bygone Days (Desert-Southwest Publishers, 1964).

Since you’re on this site, you’re likely familiar with Politi’s work, up to and including his Bunker Hill book. Should you not have a copy, at any given time there’s usually a few on eBay. (My advice? Splurge and get one of the signed copies, which include some of his fanciful, colorful art as part of the inscription.) Politi’s book is especially important in that it served to humanize the Hill and tell its stories, adding depth to those photographers (Reagh, Hylen et al.) who so dutifully documented the disappearing landscape.

So, LAPL has framed and displayed a collection of Politi paintings, with didactic panels that include language from his book, and it’s a thrill to see the originals in the flesh. You might ask, what is the Library doing with this unparalleled collection of Politi pictures, anyway?

It’s 1965. Bunker Hill’s demolition had thundered along for years, a stone’s throw from Central, the librarians therein forced to contend with assorted wrecking crews’ constant clangor. Politi’s newly-published Bunker Hill images were immeasurably important (and just plain wonderful) so the librarians requested the Board of Library Commissioners help purchase a selection of Politi’s paintings for the library’s Special Collections Department. The Board wrote a check to Politi for $3,000 ($29,524 USD2023) to attain an assortment of his Hill pictures. Sadly, after accession, the pictures disappeared to the library basement for nearly sixty years. 

How and why did the museum thus, then, arrive at the idea to finally mount this exhibition now? I have no idea. I do know that the good folks over at Esotouric called up John Szabo in the fall of ’22 and said hey, we’re putting together a Leo Politi tour with the Politi family, for a year from now—can we get our tour into Special Collections to see some of the original pictures? Library personnel were non-committal until, bang, a year later, Central opened the exhibit, three days before the Esotouric tour!

Again, one can only surmise regarding correlation and causation and all that; all I know for certain is that the tour was a huge success, and I’m proud to say I was in attendance to talk about Politi’s art as it related to Old Bunker Hill. 

Which got me to thinking, maybe I’ll take you on a little tour of the Politi exhibit. I grabbed my copy of Politi’s 1964 masterpiece and headed over to Central, to capture for y’all a bit of what’s there.

I can’t tell you what a thrill it is to get up close and personal with these works. The ability to get in there to examine the brushstrokes, and take in every little detail, is incredible. 

There are surprises, too, like pictures that don’t appear in his Bunker Hill book:

A Politi work I have always found especially endearing is his depiction of 246 South Bunker Hill Avenue, with its tenant, Rose. 

Politi describes Rose: always accompanied by her faithful dog, always feeding the pigeons, always taking care of the neighborhood animals. Note what appears to be a big ol’ orange kitty snoozing on the porch rocker—

Well, I was thrilled to discover Rose appeared amongst the color images shot by George Mann, where she is—what else?—brushing said big ol’ orange kitty. Naturally, I paired the Politi and the Mann in my book:

At this point you’re saying Nathan! I’m sold! I’m rushing out the door to take in this wonder, where is this incredible display? Well, first you want to find the Central Library (and unlike the rest of downtown, library parking is super cheap, especially on weekends or after 3:00). From the Flower Street parking garage, I advise you go around and in through the Fifth Street entrance, so you can peer up at Bunker Hill. Here is what the library (and the Fifth Street entrance) looks like from Bunker Hill:

Bertram Goodhue designed Central Library, though Goodhue died early in its construction and the project was brought home by Carleton Winslow. It opened July 1926 (I’m expecting great things at the centennial). Head into the north entrance and up the stairs—

—into one of the most sublime interior spaces in the world. The zodiac chandelier is by Lee Lawrie; the decorative work in the rotunda was painted by Julian Garnsey; the murals, oil on linen, are Dean Cornwell.

Then turn and head into the Children’s Room (originally the History Department) and marvel at one of the other most incredible interior spaces in the world.

Beams are again, by Garnsey, and the murals—originally located in the west entrance tunnels—are Albert Herter. Herter’s murals are neither as beloved nor as well known as Cornwell’s rotunda murals, but dear lord, they are incredible.

And then…on either end of the Children’s Reading Room…are the two rooms replete with Politis. 

I hope you’ve enjoyed our little trip to LAPL Central. But again, please don’t think you’ve sated yourself with just this post. There’s more than a dozen pictures on display, so I’ve only just scratched the surface, and they must be seen up close to be appreciated—my photos do not do them justice.

And now, like Rose of Bunker Hill Avenue fame, I’m going to go give some love to a big ol’ orange kitty!