The Grove - The LA Flood Project (sitios de interés)
Descripción del sitio
Stage 1
There was a time at the turn of the millennium when the rage was the designer outdoor shopping mall. No mere galleria, far from the boxy fluorescent-lit warehouse of the first mall in Pittsburgh, PA, home to zombies in the Romero film, these new shopping Xanadus were destinations on the scale of a World's fare, yet all the fixtures of malls are still here: the kiddy train has become a life-size trolley; the food court, chi-chi boutiques; the bookstore has four stories; and the fountains and wishing well, pure Vegas baby. And those who stroll to shop, one arm for shopping bags the valet can't fit on his cart, one arm for a pock-sized pooch, are similarly augmented. How could they worry about a little rain.
Stage 2
If you'd gone to the Aquarium under Santa Monica pier in the days before the flood, you would have seen a little demonstration, of what happens to a plastic city when it rains, as children sprayed the hillsides with water bottles. As shoppers perch precariously atop the sunken trolley, surrounded in a sea of baguettes and iPads, cosmetics, and the most morbid schools of drowned American girl dolls, you see what happens, when the bratty child dumps over an entire bucket.
Stage 3
The mystery of weather, real weather, but especially cataclysmic weather, is that it restores the land back, revealing with a spotlight or perhaps an outline in chalk or lye. But since there was no place for anything to go, all the waste, the tables from the outdoor cafes, the books, the Nordstroms dresses and slacks, the dining wear, even the tchotchke cart of mechanical toys and remote control soldiers have all washed into the end of the Grove, trolley nose down in the fountain, like a very large, yet still festively colored, epically stopped-up commode.
-- MCM
There was a time at the turn of the millennium when the rage was the designer outdoor shopping mall. No mere galleria, far from the boxy fluorescent-lit warehouse of the first mall in Pittsburgh, PA, home to zombies in the Romero film, these new shopping Xanadus were destinations on the scale of a World's fare, yet all the fixtures of malls are still here: the kiddy train has become a life-size trolley; the food court, chi-chi boutiques; the bookstore has four stories; and the fountains and wishing well, pure Vegas baby. And those who stroll to shop, one arm for shopping bags the valet can't fit on his cart, one arm for a pock-sized pooch, are similarly augmented. How could they worry about a little rain.
Stage 2
If you'd gone to the Aquarium under Santa Monica pier in the days before the flood, you would have seen a little demonstration, of what happens to a plastic city when it rains, as children sprayed the hillsides with water bottles. As shoppers perch precariously atop the sunken trolley, surrounded in a sea of baguettes and iPads, cosmetics, and the most morbid schools of drowned American girl dolls, you see what happens, when the bratty child dumps over an entire bucket.
Stage 3
The mystery of weather, real weather, but especially cataclysmic weather, is that it restores the land back, revealing with a spotlight or perhaps an outline in chalk or lye. But since there was no place for anything to go, all the waste, the tables from the outdoor cafes, the books, the Nordstroms dresses and slacks, the dining wear, even the tchotchke cart of mechanical toys and remote control soldiers have all washed into the end of the Grove, trolley nose down in the fountain, like a very large, yet still festively colored, epically stopped-up commode.
-- MCM