From the 1920s through the early 1950s, LA’s Central Avenue, particularly the stretch from the landmark Lincoln Theater to the historic Dunbar Hotel, was one of the most culturally and politically significant districts in the United States. Home of West Coast Jazz, crucible of civil rights activism, and a vibrant center of economic prosperity for businesses owned by African Americans, Central Avenue flourished despite the racial prejudice that surrounded it.
When California’s shipyards and their dependent industries slowed at the end of WWII, a three decade decline began, spurred by massive population growth in the corridor, redlining, I-10’s construction, and, infamously, the totalitarian policing tactics of LAPD’s Chief Parker. The area experienced rising unemployment, poverty, addiction, and physical blight. The Watts Rebellion in 1965 and The Los Angeles Uprising in 1992—both responses to unchecked police bvrutality—accentuated urban despair. As vivid memories of the 1992 civil unrest resurfaced in April 2012 with the publication of Rodney King’s memoir, it was a salient moment for Angelenos to take a closer look at this storied place.
Over the past 25 years, a combination of immigrant entrepreneurialism, commitment from long-time local business owners, new public investment, and veneration for Central Avenue’s special history has catalyzed an economic renaissance there.
Central Avenue: A Community Album consists of two complementary bodies of work: a new archive of family photographs (1926–2012) collected from current and former Central Avenue residents by Comen and project co-organizer Jason Neville, and a new series of contemporary photographs which Comen made in March 2012. These two series of photographs poignantly expand the historical record of Central Avenue to include everyday moments and personal, visual narratives within the broader strokes of its dramatic trajectory.
On March 1, 2012, Ignacio Gonzalez watches over his barber shop on Central Ave. and 42nd St while Johnny Vera trims Juan Guitron (L) and Alex Vargas finishes work on Oscar Sanchez.
Magali Acosta at work in a bodega on Central Ave. and 42nd St. on March 1, 2012.
Darlene and Quincy Newell, photographed on Central Ave. and 42nd St. on their way to Mr. Newell's mother's home on March 1, 2012.
Valentin Romero mixes fresh concrete while Juan Hernandez trowels it into place on E. 43rd St. on March 3, 2012.
Team Infamous takes a break from riding north on Central Ave. at Adams Blvd. on March 3, 2012.
A craftsman home is scrapped on 20th St just west of Central Ave. on March 3, 2012.
Efrain Marcos waiting to wash his car on Central Ave. and 42nd St. on March 3, 2012.
Manuel Ramirez at work at second- hand appliance store on Central Ave. and 33rd St on March 5, 2012.
Anais Pelayo at La Fortuna meat market, her husband's family's business, at Central Ave. and 32nd St. on March 5, 2012.
Jun Bradley (in plaid) and Donald Lewis shoot pool while John Pierce and Lloyd Johnson look on at the Lindsay Senior Center on March 14, 2012.
Antonio Morales on March 14, 2012, at the corner of Central Ave. and 41st St, where he sells raspados and elotes each afternoon.
Juan Carrillo, Zena Gramajo, Mariela Godinez, and Grecia Andrade puase at Central Ave. and 41st St. on their way home from Jefferson High School on March 14, 2012.
Julio Ramirez in his repair shop at Central Ave. and 56th St. on March 15, 2012.
Ms. B. Love, photographed on Central Ave. just north of Vernon Ave. on March 20, 2012.
Justino Santos stands with a truckload of new citrus boxes in front of his home on 43rd St and Wadsworth Ave on March 20, 2012.
Manuela Rendon at her family home on E. 43rd St. near Avalon Blvd. on March 20, 2012.
Sisters Banadia and Esbeldy Morales at the corner of Vernon and Central Avenues on March 20, 2012.
Simon "Pappa Si" Redditt, age 105, in his apartment in the Juanita Tate Legacy Towers on Central Avenue and 49th Pl. on March 21, 2012.
Gabriel Villa gives Dalecia Berry acrylic nails in the salon at Central Ave. and 42nd St. on March 22, 2012.
Victor Rosenberg and Corey Graves at Central Ave. and 40th Pl on their way home from Jefferson High School on March 22, 2012.
Thomas Aaron outside his apartment at Naomi Ave. and 35th St. on March 22, 2012.
The styling staff at Isabel Cabrera's salon on Central Ave. and 40th Pl. on March 24, 2012.
Galvin McElroy at the corner of Compton and E. 32nd on March 26, 2012.
Antonia Centellan waits for the westbound bus at Central Ave. and Slauson Ave. with grand-daughter Ashley Giselle Flores on March 27, 2012.
Gustavo Barroso welds a new staircase with Valencia Garcia and Ishmael Barroso on Hooper Ave. on March 27, 2012.
Sunset at the Palm Sunday festival at St. Patrick's Church at Central Ave. and Jefferson Blvd. on April 1, 2012.
The 2020 murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery have been too much for America to take. Their devastating stories—the latest in a continuing cycle of disregard for Black lives—have galvanized Americans across the continent to protest police brutality, government inaction in cases of grotesque injustice, and the resurgence of white supremacy cloaked by the coattails of a divisive President. Led by the Black Lives Matter network and its allies, America is in the midst of its greatest reckoning with racism since the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s.
In Los Angeles, this marks a prescient moment to contemplate our own breakdowns and triumphs at the intersections of race and authority, culture and economics. This project returns us to the birthplace of West Coast Jazz and catapults us into daily life on LA’s most historic cultural corridor from 1926 to 2012. This project, both an archive and a contemporary series exhibited with community celebration in 2012, more than anything, is a bridge.
It’s a bridge, built with memory and art, that connects LA’s storied, multi-generational Black community with an urban renewal fueled by Hispanic immigrant entrepreneurialism. The archival photographs, scanned in very high resolution from the personal collections of 40 different residents, business owners, important churches, and community groups, find a complement in the portraits of today’s community—Black and Hispanic, multi- generational and first-generation. Together, they document a transformation and that’s both a Los Angeles story and an American story.
I’m a white man and, right now, that makes me want to sit down and listen. I’m also a born-and-raised Jewish Angeleno whose identity is photographer. That makes me look and, hopefully, see. Documenting our Los Angeles with a camera—especially the untold stories and the dignity of those who have been marginalized—is my life’s work and way of raising up the voices of my fellow Angelenos.