On a busy corner of the Pico-Union district in Los Angeles stands what, at first glance, looks like an interactive conceptual art piece.
It consists of a stylized mural painted against the stuccoed wall of a one-story commercial building near the Cuscatleca Bakery and the 99-cent store, an assortment of used wares from a local street vendor, and a pay phone.
The mural depicts the city and, presumably, the local neighborhood, and what looks like a trolley and trolley cart operator, a throwback to the Toluca Yard or the old Belmont Tunnel, all in a Dutch angle, in gray and sepia tones.
The street vendor’s goods decorate the display at the foot of the pay phone with an assortment of men’s and women's shoes. Used but in good condition-dresses hang against the mural wall to the left and to the right of the pay phone, billowing from the gusts of wind created by the roaring traffic.
But it is no conceptual art piece.
The pay phone is defunct, the mural, most likely part of a beautification project, and the street vendor’s wares are for sale. With some luck, some passerby may put a couple of dollars into his pocket if looking for a decent pair of used shoes or a nice non-descript blouse.
No coins can be deposited into the phone’s broken coin deposit slot. The meaning of its presence is left to posterity.
Like other pay phones in the area, it stands there, who knows for how long, like buoys floating on the concrete sea dotting the landscape, only a handful still work to some capacity.
In most cases, nothing is left to ID what’s left of them, save for the mounting pedestal or base. Sometimes, not even that. Only traces of the mounting studs and bolts are left to indicate that one existed in any given area.
What’s new is the interaction between pay phones and the street vendors, who, in the cases documented here, appear to be nothing more than happenstance.
I have often gotten a quizzical look or two whenever I’ve approached such street vendors to ask about how they came to set up shop around a given pay phone.
“El telefono? Pues no se. Es un buen puesto,” one said in Spanish chuckling at my question.
“The pay phone? I don’t know. It was just a good spot.”
The photos in this story attempt to capture and document these memories, street exhibits, and interactions—if anything, for posterity’s sake. Future volumes will delve slightly more in-depth with interviews with such street vendors at these locations and other details to come wherever possible.
All photos by Jose Tobar for L.A. TACO.
