Faux boxwood lining part of the Convention Center promenade. Photos by Greggory Moore.

There are innumerable aspects to city planning and development, some relatively static, others that shift over time. But all of them are bound by at least two constraints: the limits of our budgets and our imaginations.

I was reminded of this recently when I noticed little clumps of fake plastic leaves scattered on the Ocean Boulevard sidewalk near Pine Avenue. Initially, I presumed it was detritus from this or that convention (you can often deduce the presence of conventioneers from the refuse they leave strewn about), but shortly, I found their point of origin—a covering of faux boxwood along the wall at the northwest side of the Convention Center promenade.

Considering that it was installed six months ago, I may have been the last person in Downtown Long Beach to notice the wall of green plastic. But when I did, I wondered about the wisdom of the choice. Last I recalled there had been a sort of tarp with some nondescript artwork (of the Long Beach cityscape?)—certainly no great loss. But plastic plantlife generating sidewalk litter?

That choice (the fake flora, not the litter) was made by the Long Beach Area Convention Center & Visitors Bureau—for starters, because something had to be done, says President/CEO Steve Goodling.

“The murals that were up there, they were old, first of all, and some of them over time were starting to tear,” he says. “Quite honestly, they were becoming unsightly. […] Over a period of four years or whatever, it gets tagged, it gets ripped. It was time for something new.”

Pieces of faux boxwood fallen to the ground.

The Convention Center peeps approached the landscaping crew of the Showtime series Dexter (often on location in Long Beach) “for a creative solution.” Et voilà.

“We thought it was pretty novel and pretty innovative,” Goodling says of the concept. “We’re trying it out to see if it works. […] It’s a major part of our promenade, a major entryway to our Convention Center area, so we want it to look attractive and nice and light and bright and so forth. […] A lot of developers have looked at the concept and said, ‘Gee, I wonder if we can apply this concept to our commercial development.’ […] And quite honestly, a lot of people thought it was pretty cool to have a landscape designer from Dexter do the wall. […] This was has definitely gotten positive responses from residents and visitors.”

But Goodling says the installation may not be permanent, partly because the Convention Center team didn’t expect people to tear away bits and even clumps (hence the detritus scattered about the base of the wall).

“I can’t tell you if we’ll keep it, because it is a lot of maintenance,” he says. “We didn’t anticipate that people would be taking souvenirs.”

Goodling notes that if/when the installation is removed, the material will be recycled and not merely dumped in landfill.

“[Dexter‘s landscape designer] told me that all the studio lots […] have recycling units,” he reports. ” They know how to handle material such as this for recycling. So when our fence is ready to come down […] they of course will be recycling it.”

Presumably the faux boxwood is meant to emulate, well, real boxwood or some such plant (not my expertise, in case you couldn’t tell), such as you can find clinging to southeast corner of a building in the East Village (pictured). Goodling cites the cost and difficulty of upkeep as reasons why real plants were ruled out for the promenade.

A living East Village example of what the faux boxwood emulates.

That something should be there seems beyond dispute. Behind the wall lies a vacant lot, and the chain-link fence that formerly was the only screening between promenade and lot did nothing but increase the unsightliness of the site.

“It was a blighted area,” Goodling recalls. “It was just a pure fence line. It was fence, and it was open board, and it was ugly. […] The City asked us to create something, and we did. We did it ourselves. […] We created a mural; that was our design.”

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, of course, so my saying the design was pretty uninspired is just one beholder’s opinion. As is my feeling that, while the faux boxwood is a decided improvement, maybe the Convention Center hasn’t quite hit on the best possible concept. But Goodling might not quibble with such a view.

“What we do might not always be spot-on perfect, but we’re trying our best to get there,” he says.

If the idea is always to better ourselves, then at least we’re motivated in the right direction.

Speaking of which, see Part 2 later this week for discussion of a nearby wall that is long overdue for change.