Hollywood’s Sunset Strip may lose its grit as hotels and gentrifiers move in
Version 0 of 1. Mario Maglieri likes to say he hasn’t just seen change, he’s lived it. “I made myself,” he says with a whoop. “Nobody made me.” In 1964, Maglieri co-founded Whisky a Go Go, one of the most famous nightclubs and live music venues on the Sunset Strip in Los Angeles, which launched the careers of the Doors, Mötley Crüe and Van Halen among others. Now 91, he is a legend in this city: a man his staff refer to as the unofficial “mayor of Sunset”. “Yeah, I’ve seen a lot,” Maglieri says as he sits in a padded leather chair, eating lunch with his wife, Scarlett, at a back table in the Rainbow Bar and Grill. The Rainbow is another of his businesses. It has been going since 1972 and in its heyday counted Keith Moon, John Lennon and Alice Cooper among its regulars. Priscilla Presley still likes to pop by. “Things have changed on Sunset over the years, of course they have,” says Maglieri. “But my business won’t change until I die.” Despite Maglieri’s fatalistic optimism, this part of town is undergoing something of an identity crisis. Over recent years, many of the Strip’s independent businesses have fallen prey to the onward march of luxury hotel developers, and locals are worried its unique atmosphere is under threat. The House of Blues, one of the Strip’s longest standing music venues, closed its doors earlier this month after 21 years. Taking its place will be a giant building incorporating 149 hotel rooms, 40 rental apartments and 35,000 sq ft of retail space. A couple of doors up from the Whisky, there is an empty restaurant with a “liquidation” notice stuck to its window. The Tiffany theatre, which once hosted a live improvisation show featuring a then unknown Rob Reiner, is also to be demolished, as is Larry Flynt’s Hustler erotica store. Much of Sunset Strip is now bordered by vast, skeletal scaffolding. There is a near-constant hum of bulldozers and cranes. In total, 762 hotel rooms and 250 apartments have either been approved or are already under construction. Tourism is a major source of income for West Hollywood, which derives 24% of its annual revenues from hotel taxes. In July and August last year, most hotel occupancy rates in the area were at 95%. New projects approved for construction, including a flagship Ian Schrager hotel, are set to increase the 2,058 hotel rooms in the city by almost half in the next few years. John Keho, the assistant director at West Hollywood’s Community Development Department, insists these plans are simply part of the Strip’s modern evolution. “The Strip has always been an entertainment area,” he said in an interview with Bloomberg last year. “Today, all the new hotels will help attract a higher-profile entertainment crowd and people from around the world. And that in turn will spawn more destination venues like restaurants and bars.” Not everyone is convinced. “Big money rules,” says Ace Ford, a dreadlocked 58-year-old tattoo artist who works at Purple Panther Tattoos on Sunset, “and it’s got no regard for history.” When Ford first started here in 1994, the place “felt more human”. Some of that authenticity came at a price - the area near Purple Panther was known colloquially as “prostitute central” – but Ford rather misses it. “The law enforcement ran the streetwalkers out to make way for the bulldozers,” he says. “There’s this big gentrification thing where all the old places are gone and they’re trying to make it all nice for the wealthy. I don’t know what the goal is when the rich get what they want and the rest of us are left foraging outside the city walls.” Historically, the Strip has always existed outside LA’s boundaries. In the early 20th century, the 1.6-mile hilly stretch of road fell under the less vigilant jurisdiction of the county sheriff’s department. Nightclubs and casinos sprouted up. Alcohol was served in back rooms during prohibition and the Strip soon became the wildest entertainment destination in the area, home to clubs, bars and the occasional house of ill repute, and frequented by celebrities including Marilyn Monroe and Frank Sinatra. Throughout the 70s and 80s, rock stars mingled with drop-outs and groupies. The Strip became known for its sleazy glamour and gritty irreverence: a boozy stretch of liquor stores and strip clubs, where dusk would settle to the sound of amped-up guitar chords and the sight of flashing neon billboards. All the old places are gone and they’re trying to make it all nice for the wealthy It was a place where reputations were made and notoriety was minted. Janis Joplin played at Whisky a Go Go and River Phoenix died of a drug overdose outside the Viper Room. John Belushi ate his last meal of lentil soup at the Rainbow. Maglieri remembers hearing the Doors play at the Whisky for the first time. He thought it sounded like “circus music” but got used to it and they went on to appear with such regularity that Maglieri refers to them now, without irony, as “the house band”. He once tried to lecture lead singer Jim Morrison about using too many drugs, to no avail. “You have to know how to treat people,” he says, eyes shaded by dark glasses and the brim of a blue baseball cap emblazoned with “#1 Dad”. “You respect them. If a guy is drunk, you don’t throw him out. You ask him what’s happening, how he is. You take care of people.” It is hard to imagine such an attitude being embraced by the new occupants of the Strip – those 1.1 million square feet of anonymous hotel rooms, gleaming apartment buildings, restaurants and retail stores sprouting up around where we are currently sitting. But Maglieri is phlegmatic. “Of course it’s changing, but the hotels are bringing more business,” he laughs. “There’s more traffic. I’m not complaining.” Does he ever come under pressure to sell? “Oh yeah. I bought Whisky for $1.5m. Now, I could get $30m for it.” Is he tempted? “Oh no. This’ll be for my grandkids.” As yet, no one is quite sure what kind of Sunset Strip they will inherit. |