For 7 consecutive months, the proposed 12 1/2-acre teardown and rebuild of South Sepulveda was the rage of Culver City. It sparked controversy, and it drove angry merchants and Sunkist Park residents to organize and protest.
The sizzling debate suddenly fizzled and died, however, at a community meeting in the last week of June. Dr. Loni Anderson of the City Hall-approved Citizens Advisory Committee urged her colleagues to support an immediate pullback until a general plan for the area could be devised and sanctioned.
Ever since, the area has laid there catatonically, resembling a redevelopment graveyard, awaiting a roadmap for sprucing up at some date in the foggy future.
Mayor Alan Corlin supplied an epitaph. What stopped the project was the inability of the developer to get the community on his side, the mayor said.
A Beauty Contest
And now, to return to the pretty face of redevelopment:
Heavenly choruses of angelic voices rained down on the developers Jim Suhr and Wally Marks. From end to end of the dais, they were commended for their imagination and vision in producing the quintessential new-century building on the old Baldwin Motel site, in the 12800 block, toward the westerly end of Washington Boulevard, in the shadow of the 99-Cent Store.
In Charge of Commendations
Mayor Corlin coined the ultimate compliment.
The building they have shown us should serve as the blueprint for every project that follows in Culver City, the mayor said warmly. Four-letter words often occur to him, Mr. Corlin said, when new projects are presented.
This time, its a 3-letter word. Wow.
The developers sat down with bright people. And they came away with a great,
innovative design. Their building has it all:
It is a green building. Imagine that. A green building built from scratch.
It has public parking, which is so badly needed.
Not too big of a footprint.
And public artwork.
Plus, they are, of course, going to make money.
The relatively modest-sized 3-story mixed-use building, 124,100 square feet covering 4 contiguous properties at 12823 Washington, between Meier and Moore streets, was identified as the second or third green building in Culver City, following another innovator Symantec, across town.
To Summarize
Featuring restaurant and retail on the ground floor, the upper two stories will be devoted to offices, with green abounding at each level. Parking spaces will be available to the general public, a novelty these days.
With the wind at its back, the sunrays glinting off their foreheads while riding a tidal wave of vigor, anticipation and unanimity, the Redevelopment Agency endorsed what members characterized as a creative commitment by Mr. Suhr and Mr. Marks to make a previously undistinguished plot of land bloom.
As the runaway winner among 8 proposals made for the property, the developers paid $3.2 million for the Redevelopment Agency-owned land.
Mayor Corlin, archly opposed to 9900 Culver said later that the project on Washington is so good that, in my opinion, it is what made 9900 look bad.
Do Not Disturb
Throughout the quiescent Council Chambers and all across Culver City, not a dissenting word was heard during the appraisal of the Washington Boulevard plan by Agency members.
In contrast to the high drama that has constantly clouded all discussions of 9900 Culver Blvd., no resident even raised a whisper.
Partisans suggested that was because of the superiority of the concept, design and vision brought to the Washington Boulevard plan.
What Residents?
However, a more obvious explanation is that the middle-western portion of Washington, just west of Wade Street, is dominantly commercial. Voices of the closest residents have not been heard in Council Chambers in this century.
The less tidy side of redevelopment played out dramatically down to the last note before wobbling over the finish line with a 3 to 2 vote. To the end, Mayor Corlin and Councilman Gary Silbiger for very separate reasons stoutly opposed overturning last Aprils rejection by the advisory Planning Commission.
The Dimensions
Like a stage production that has run one hour past a decent closing time, the long anticipated passage of 9900 Culver Blvd. by the City Council was anti-climactic. No celebration was in sight.
Through 4 summer-long continuances of the strongly downsized 4-story, 18-condo, mixed-used building across from City Hall, the positions of each Council member, and those of neighbors protesting the size of it, have been frozen in time.
They Staked Out and Stayed
Through sizable compromises by the developers Joseph Miller and Judit Meda Fekete and lengthy rounds of traffic and density complaints by the nearest neighbors on Duquesne Avenue, the lines of disagreement between the two sides never even began to abate.
Except for the developers and their compromises, any other budging could be measured in inches.
This meant that nearly everyone in the room expected 9900 to slip through, but not roar through, as the developers had hoped.
No Backing Down
Residents never gave up. Linda Levinson, Catherina Yanda and Rich Waters revisited their earlier disagreements. To show that one never should abandon hope, Ms. Levinson asked for a 15-foot wall or fence at the southern end of the property to contain the sound and dust during construction. Perhaps surprisingly, the Council agreed, in principle. Over Vice Mayor Carol Grosss worry that the Council might be establishing a risky precedent, the members agreed to order a fence of unspecified height, but taller than normally required.
A Kodak Moment
While this was an evening for terrific lines that George Bernard Shaw would have craved, the jackpot interlude came when Ms. Gross and Councilman Steve Rose upbraided the never-say-die neighbors.
In an unusually candid departure, the two of them employed stern terms in rebuking protesting residents for not thinking younger.
Taking Unpopular Stands
Mr. Rose and Ms. Gross chastised them for failing to realize that 9900 was exactly the architectural magnet Culver City needs to become a destination for the brilliant young technologists from the studios whom they believe will be quickly drawn to the corner of Culver Boulevard and Duquesne.
The lively crowd that spiritedly had applauded Mr. Silbigers lengthy and repetitious criticisms of his colleagues for failing to involve the community and follow its wishes, took umbrage at the face-to-face scoldings that seldom have been heard. Filing out into the cool darkness, they were not happy.
