The Colours of Australia?

...or more precisely the colours of southern Australia?

But this is outside the School of Dentistry at UCLA, and I've also been told that it could be a Rainbow Gum (Eucalyptus deglupta), in which case it's the only eucalypt found naturally in the northern hemisphere - Mindanao (the Philippines) - and not in Australia, though close to home - New Guinea and New Britain. 

I had to come here to learn this...!

Eucalyptus

I have heard Sydney described as Los Angeles' east coast. It might have been part of a joke about the number of Australian actors (NIDA graduates at that) who now work in Hollywood. Or Australians in general: it's not just actors. I notice a 'presence'.

Besides which, there are gum trees everywhere. Over the top of my mental map of old ranches, villages, missions, and stars' homes, I could begin to lay a map of Australian regional references based on the Australian native trees that I see: "Oh, look there's a sideroxylon. I haven't seen one of those since Wangaratta."

The other day in Santa Monica I saw what looked like River Red Gums (Eucalyptus camaldulensis) and was reminded of Adelaide or indeed Alice Springs where they sit in the dry river beds.

I saw this smooth-trunked species Downtown and almost thought of it as another of my "cultural conjunctions". The background is the Standard Oil Company building.

This white-flowering species (Nicholii? Look close) was sighted down near where Topanga Canyon comes out at Malibu.
 

This specimen was in a suburban garden in Encino.

In Silver Lake, I saw a yellow-flowering eucalypt that I last saw as a street tree in Alice Springs. Its natural habitat is on the West Australian goldfields.

How could I ever be homesick in this inverse of Oz? On the other hand, what if, in some sinister universe, there was a American equivalent of Murray Bail's Mr Holland (the lead character in his novel, Eucalyptus), who wouldn't let me go back to Australia until I could name and map every species in Los Angeles County!? Could be worse fates.

At UCLA

Also, at UCLA.

Outside Royce Hall, scene of Schoenberg premieres. See why UCLA reminds me of ANU?

If you liked this blog, others of mine on Los Angeles are:

A daily reminder, 1 April 2011
When you take a closer look, 21 April 2011
The frame (thoughts on the Getty Center), 24 April 2011
A light on the hill (the Reagan Library), 30 April 2011
A couple of snapshots (Malibu and the Valley), 1 May 2011
More to love about LA, 6 Jan 2012
Walking with stars, 10 Apr 2012
En plein air and a little elan, 16 Nov 2012
LA Substantial, 18 Jan 2013
City of Angels, 20 Jan 2013
City of Nets? City of Dreams, 31 Jan 2013
Rounding off - LA vignettes, 2 Feb 2013
Loving the architectural reminders of old Los Angeles, 4 Feb 2013
Cultural conjuntions, 4 Feb 2013
Cultural conjunctions II, 6 Feb 2013

Non-linear lessons, 7 Feb 2013
More than whimsy - Contemporary Art, 8 Feb 2013
Life and movies?, 10 Feb 2013
But, whimsy indeed, 12 Feb 2013
Pockets of charm, 13 Feb 2013
La Reina de los angeles, 18 Feb 2013

Others of mine on Australia are:

Considering the aboriginal land of Altjira, 20 May 2012
Opera in a land of Song, 29 July 2012
Drowned Man in a Dry Creekbed - Happy New Year 1993, 6 August 2012
Virginia in the Desert, 10 Sep 2012
 Victory over death and despair in a bygone age (thoughts on John Strehlow's The Tale of Frieda Keysser), 5 Nov 2012
A trip through the yellow inland, 6 Jan 2013
Observations from the Hill, 12 Jan 2013
City of Nets? City of Dreams, 31 Jan 2013

Australian flora is the dead give-away

Just a couple of photographs today:

People rave about the Fall colours in the US or complain about the drabness of the Australian bush. Doubtless when they talk of the bush they're talking of the gun-metal greys and off-yellows of a eucalyptus forest, not the rainforest of New South Wales. For, let's face it, how rivetting is this? An Illawarra Flame Tree  (Brachychiton acerifolius), native of the NSW coast, spectacular at this time of year (summer) here in an inner-Sydney street.

Another flame tree from the adjacent street, prior to losing all its leaves. You may also see the dark brown, boat-shaped 10cm-long fruits if you look close enough.

Flame Tree in Hyde Park, CBD

We also saw a tree I'd never noticed before in Randwick yesterday - a Native Hibiscus, endemic to our coast, and I think the Randwick municipality's coast.

There is a certain sameness to Australian cities. I'm not talking of the glass and steel towers which make CBDs and downtowns all over the world 'samey', but that suburban architecture which means an Australian from just about anywhere in the country can recognise the caricatured suburbia of a Howard Arkley painting. But when you look at our flora you see regional difference. The banksias of the West are not like the banksias of the Sydney eastern suburbs. Jarrahs are different from Mountain Ash or Angophorae costatae or Ghost Gums (Eucalyptus papuana). You've got to look to our flora and not our accents or our architecture to really locate yourself in this country.

A dead give-away

We caught the weekly recital of San Diego's Civic Organist, Carol Williams, last Sunday. The organ has sat in Balboa Park since 1915, and the city has had an official organist for nearly a century.

The position was up to be axed until recently. Like many US cities, San Diego needs to tighten the belt. According to a local councilman, Carl DeMaio, quoted in The New York Times on 26 December, 'We've decimated our basic park services, we've cut a third of libraries, and our roads are literally falling apart.' I'm glad for my sake, though, that the city received hundreds of letters in support of the Civic Organist. Her recital reminded me of the sort of lovely music-making that used to be made in Melbourne when I was a kid - concerts by the likes of the Footscray-Yarraville Band, organ recitals at the Town Hall; music played purely for the sake of the audience's enjoyment.

This nostalgic memory is not the only way San Diego reminds me of Australia however. In the Museum of Art, we came upstairs from an exhibition of modern Mexican painting (terrifically strong-figured stuff, such as Alfredo Ramos Martinez's 'Indian', Mancacoyota, staring directly at the viewer) and saw this through the window.

Where are we? Adelaide? Hobart?

I kind of don't mind. One of the great pleasures in living in the US right now is being recognised very quickly as an Australian. A guy on the train to Trenton pointed to my akubra as a, 'dead give-away,' but Americans can generally now pick the accent. Then they ask lots of questions. Those who momentarily mistake me for English quickly apologise (as they should). But I'm sure that 15 years ago when we'd mention Australia, people's eyes would glaze over about five minutes in. Now they're fascinated.

I can't help finding it flattering. And I can't help reflecting that it's the first time that something beyond any effort on my part helps me stand out from the general ruck. Of course, remembering Mancacoyota's stare I wouldn't dare equate myself with a beleagured or disadvantaged minority.