Tag Archives: L.A. State Historic Park

Listening By Moonrise at L.A. State Historic Park with Low Leaf and Salenta + Topu

Low Leaf live at L.A. State Historic Park for Listening by Moonrise from Clockshop and Living Earth on July 21, 2024 (Photo: LIZ OHANESIAN)
Low Leaf live at L.A. State Historic Park for Listening by Moonrise on July 21, 204 (Photo: Liz O.)

There’s a pocket in L.A. State Historic Park where city life almost fades away. It’s near the back of the 32-acre park, just beyond sculptor Anna Sew Hoy’s bronze arches, “Psychic Body Grotto,” between the track that runs around the periphery of the park and the small creek bed that fills during storms. Here, the trees are large, at least by the standards of downtown Los Angeles. Even though many of their leaves have already fallen and dried, there is still plenty of shade and a cool breeze rustles through them. The reminder that we’re still in L.A. comes every five to ten minutes, when A Line trains whizz past the park to and from the Chinatown Metro station. 

L.A. State Historic is my local park, so I’m here often, but on this particular Sunday, I stopped by for music. A few times a year, around the full moon, the local arts and culture non-profit Clockshop, the same group that puts on the annual Kite Festival, hosts a music and sound event called Listening By Moonrise. For the July session, they teamed up with Living Earth, a fairly new collective that produces events that bring together performance and local nature.  On this occasion, the performers are Salenta + Topu, a jazz duo that met in Brooklyn, but are now based in L.A., and Low Leaf, who makes impossible-to-categorize music with, primarily, a harp and synthesizer.

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L.A. State Historic Park After the Storm

L.A. State Historic Park August 2023 Photo by Liz Ohanesian
Los Angeles State Historic Park after the storm. (Pic: Liz O.)

Less than halfway through the mile-long track that runs the periphery of L.A. State Historic Park, I realize that today’s outfit is entirely inappropriate for the weather. I pulled over a KXLU hoodie that I’ve probably had since I was a DJ at the college radio station because there was a chance of more rain in the morning, but that chance looked slim-to-none by 10:30 a.m., so I wasn’t about to walk around with an umbrella. A hoodie was a good just-in-case alternative, I thought before leaving the apartment, failing to remember that it’s August, not January, and it’s muggy af outside. 

I’m sweating more than I should be for something even less intense than a power walk, a lot more. I’m actually disgusted with myself and my inability to acclimate to a summer where the heat has been far from dry. I don’t know how to dress, let alone deal with moderately curly hair that’s prone to frizz, in this weather. It’s a culture shock— like that time I spent a Labor Day Weekend in Atlanta baffled by warm rain and people calling every woman “ma’am”— except that I’m at home. 

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