The Tree is not a City

In Los Angeles, our mayor Antonio Villaraigosa has decided that native trees are better than non-native. I would say that in general this is true, that the native species do have a singular fit with their environment; but there are a whole assortment of adapted species coming from similar climates around the world that flourish here. In fact, Southern California has been defined by a handful of these: the Jacaranda, the Liquidambar, the Ficus. But the palm tree has been specifically singled out by our mayor as particularly offensive, mostly because of what occurs during the Santa Ana winds when its fronds are strewn over the streets, wreaking havoc on passing cars, houses, and the occasional pedestrian. My feeling is that if the city would do routine maintenance on the trees, there would be no problem. I personally cannot imagine a Los Angeles without the subtle play of more traditional street trees – the Sycamore, the Magnolia, the Jacaranda – against the tall, sinewy Washingtonia robusta or the squat yet eerily evocative Phoenix canariensis.

The city of Pasadena has a different problem. They have embraced the palm, in fact using it as the street tree on one of the main approaches to the city, the Arroyo Parkway connecting the city to the end of the 110 Freeway. The problem here is, it’s the wrong palm. Clearly they wanted to use the Phoenix canariensis, a tree that has, for as long as Southern California has been depicted in literature and other media high and low, come to signify beauty mixed with a forlorn sense of longing, an impending doom, a paradise soon to be lost. These trees give the streets of Pasadena a certain nobility, a vaguely Mediterranean air that appeals to those in the city who imagine a connection to a distant, patrician if not European past.

Instead of the Phoenix canariensis, the geniuses at the city opted for the Phoenix dactylifera, a desert date palm whose many negative associations include the groves that you passed on the way to Palm Springs, rows and rows of ratty looking trees that were once farmed (and perhaps still are?) for dates but that were so uncompelling en masse that, passing in the family station wagon, they never once inspired a quick stop, unlike those immense dinosaurs down the road. No, the choice of the dactylifera by the city of Pasadena only has one explanation: Value Engineering. Unable or unwilling to foot the bill for the canariensis, some bright fool from city hall decided that it would be acceptable to substitute for the lesser tree. As if nobody would notice. I mean, come on, if you don’t want to spend the money on the right trees, find another solution: maybe there are fewer trees; maybe you adjust the design; or maybe you don’t put in those ridiculous crosswalks that scream “bad public art” and that snarled traffic for months along that crucial artery.

Despite the fact that Antonio Villaraigosa declared war on the palm in Los Angeles, someone managed to slip in a few fairly recently along Century Boulevard approaching LAX. Whoever was responsible for that certainly did it right – bolding alternating the Phoenix canariensis with Tipuana tipu in the parkway and lining the median with Washingtonia robusta. Pasadena should have taken a lesson from that and spent its money well. But then again, who would have noticed?