Photo Essay: Ever-Changing Hollywood, in Miniature Magic

We're watching Hollywood change before our very eyes. Some say we're witnessing its disappearance.



I don't recognize much of what's depicted in the miniature version of Hollywood that's been under the stewardship of Hollywood Heritage since 2014 and undergoing conservation since 2018.



Then again, it isn't 100% accurate. And it wasn't meant to be. The scale model—brainchild of Joe Pellkofer, owner of a Hollywood Cabinet Company—was simply meant to give people in other parts of the country just a taste of what Hollywood was like.



People who'd never been to Hollywood—and would likely never go—wouldn't notice that some streets were missing, or that certain landmarks didn't actually stand right next to each other.



I doubt if any visitor to its exhibition at Macy's in New York City or the Steel Pier in Atlantic City ever balked.



But for those of us who've been here—or live here—it's a natural inclination to compare the fantasy with the reality. And that reality has been changing all the while.



Thanks to the work of craftsmen and artists like Leon Bayard de Volo (the Italian immigrant famous for his work on Knott's Berry Farm's California Mission dioramas), the miniature model was completed in 1945 and went on tour from 1946 to 1948.



But when the handcrafted miniature was rediscovered and stepped back into the spotlight in 1985, some well-meaning folks at Landmark Entertainment Group updated some details—including names of businesses, giving them "modern" (for the time) signs. (This is probably when fiberoptic lighting was added, too).



So now conservators need to decide whether to keep those modifications (no matter how inappropriate they may have been), or to return everything back to the way it was in 1945.



But maybe Pelkofer intended it always be a work-in-progress, for the ever-changing Hollywood—like how Walt Disney expected his Disneyland to constantly evolve with the times. (And boy, has it ever.)



If that were true, that would mean that the Earl Carroll Theatre would've had to have been remodeled into the Nickelodeon Studios, back to the Earl Carroll Theatre, into the old Aquarius Theater (as it's still dressed, from the time warp film shoot of Once Upon a Time in Hollywood), and back AGAIN into the Earl Carroll Theatre, which it's being developed into.



But by the time the old CBS Radio building were to get renovated to become NeueHouse Hollywood (and the ground-floor restaurant, Paley)...



...it might already have been repurposed into something else.



For now, loose pieces are being bagged and catalogued for possible restoration, recreation, and repositioning back onto the miniature...



...or at least as a record of what used to be there.



The big diorama of miniature Hollywood wasn't Pellkofer's only model creation—there were several others, including of individual buildings (some of which got destroyed in transit).



Hollywood Heritage is also in possession of a model of Paramount Studios, circa 1937-38.

You can see them both—being cleaned and restored as I write this—at the Hollywood Heritage annex gallery, situated pretty much exactly where De Longpre Gardens, the studio and residence of Paul de Longpré, stood at the turn of the last century. That's when Hollywood Boulevard was known as Prospect Avenue and the area was a suburban development on land owned by Daeida Wilcox Beveridge—a.k.a. the Wilcox Ranch.

The horticultural collection of De Longpre Gardens had become a huge tourist attraction until the French-born watercolorist died from complications of TB in 1911. 

His mansion was sold and the entire property demolished in 1925, a decade too early to be included in the Hollywood Miniature.

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Standing in the Shadows of Towers In Hollywood (Or, What Will Happen to the Fonda Theatre?)

Photo Essay: The Tiny World of the San Diego Model Railroad Museum

Reenacting Western Migration, On the Brutal Stagecoach Route Between LA and San Diego

It's easy to take travels for granted when you're driving a car on paved roads.

So, I like to remind myself of how difficult it was to get around in the Old West days—the terrific and terrorizing journey to get to Southern California, and the near impossibility of traversing the transverse mountain ranges to get up north.

I find myself often following the path of now-phantom carriages.

Except recently, I had the chance to ride in a real stagecoach—in a kind of brief reenactment of the "Great Western Migration" that brought an adventurous lot along the Butterfield Overland Stage's
transcontinental mail route (the first of its kind, in fact).

That's what brought me to the Warner-Carrillo Ranch—located in the San Luis Rey River Watershed on the former Mexican land grant known as Rancho Valle de San José, whose land has been owned by the Vista Irrigation District of San Diego County since 1946.



Built in 1857, the Carrillo adobe and ranch house was the home of Don José Ramón Carrillo and Doña Vicenta Sepúlveda de Yorba de Carrillo (widowed from her first husband, Tomas Yorba), who married in 1847.



Starting in 1858, they operated a type of stage stop known as a "swing station"—where horses were changed—on Overland Mail Stage Line, at the fork in the road on the Southern Emigrant Trail (technically, the  Gila River Emigrant Trail) between LA and San Diego.

At the time, Concord coaches—like the kind you still see paraded around by Wells Fargo, so named because they came out of Concord, New Hampshire—provided the ultimate in "luxurious land travel." Their wheels were fashioned of seasoned white oak with handmade spokes, both beautiful and more durable than the European-built stagecoaches that preceded them.



They'd make twice-a-week runs from St. Louis to San Francisco—and at just 5 to 12 mph, it would generally take 25 days and nights to complete the trip (though the record speed was 23 days and 23 hours).



Their primary purpose was to carry mail—but they could also carry 25 lbs. of luggage, two blankets, and a canteen.

That meant, for a $200 fare, you could book a spot in one of these "traveling hotels" as a passenger—and you'd sleep on it as it went, well, overland.

There were certain rules to follow, in order to make the trip as pleasant as possible for you—and your coach-mates. For example, if the horse team were to run away (which apparently happened often enough to warn you about it), you should hold tight and not jump ship.



And proper etiquette dictated that you not point out where murders have been committed, especially if there are women passengers present (Omaha Herald, circa 1877).



I would've sat perched up top—but I would've had to have held on with both hands, leaving no hand free for my camera. So instead, I rode inside sitting backwards (reportedly the better way to go) and welcomed the bandits who robbed us with offers of my heart and innocence.



By all reports, the journey was, quite simply, treacherous—replete with annoyances, discomfort, and plenty of hardship. Some travelers described it as "cruel and unusual punishment," with nine passengers crammed into three seats.



Our trip was raucous and rumbling—enough to give us whiplash—but so brief, it was just a teeny tiny taste of what it would've taken to get just from one stage stop to another.



What we rode, of course, was just one example—with a red-painted body and yellow-painted trim, like the rest of them were, though the coaches often varied otherwise in design.



We got dropped off by the original horse corral, which is still standing—barely. In fact, it's the only such barn—of hand-hewn timber—still standing in the county.



It's slated for future restoration, including the sliver of original adobe wall that remains.



The restored adobe residence (a state and national landmark) reflects an historical time in ranching history—including the raising of cattle, sheep, horses, pigs, goats, and more and the cultivation of grain crops.



You can see how canvas was stretched over rooms to make a ceiling (or "manta," which means "blanket" in Spanish).



Original wood ceiling beams (or vigas) were preserved in the restoration—including some that had been originally salvaged from other structure that had burned down.



Although it originally began as a two-room adobe, the verandas were eventually enclosed to create a total of eight rooms.



They needed the space for the business—namely, the trading post and post office that operated as part of the stage stop.



Ramón Carrillo became postmaster, despite the fact that he couldn't read or write. It's thought that José Antonio Yorba—Vicenta's eldest son and Ramón's stepson—did all the paperwork for them.



After Ramón was ambushed and murdered in 1868, Vicenta (now twice widowed) took over ranching duties until she moved to Anaheim in 1868. In 1869, she "conveyed" the land to ex-Governor John G. Downey (also namesake of the town of Downey, California).



In 1888, Downey leased it to renowned cattle rancher Walter Vail, who died in 1911. A couple of years later, the family home became the quintessential "cowboy bunkhouse" under the operations of cattle baron George Sawday, whose operation remained at the Carrillo ranch until 1960.



Although the boarding house provided permanent residence for "career cowboys," some Hollywood cowboys—like Will Rogers and John Wayne—were known to pay a visit.

So what of the "Warner" part of the Warner-Carrillo Ranch House?

Most of the visible signs of it are gone. The historical records are scant. All we know is that a rancher and beaver trapper named Jonathan Trumbull Warner—who became a naturalized Mexican citizen of Alta California and changed his name to "Juan Jose" Warner (sometimes shortened to "J.J.")—lived either on the Carrillo's ranch property or on a parcel that abutted it.

The rest of the details are murky at best, but you can read about them here.

He's the same Warner of Warner Springs Ranch, and its stagecoach stop there, about four miles northeast of the Warner-Carrillo Ranch (and undisputedly a different historic property).

Why is the Carrillo Ranch inextricably linked to the Warner name? ::shrugs::

I'd driven by this site many times on my way to Anza-Borrego, but never stopped—for lack of time, maybe, or out of ignorance as to the significance of the site, even after its grand opening in 2013.

Or maybe I was just waiting for the right opportunity to visit, which was most certainly upon the occasion of these annual stagecoach rides.

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Photo Essay: The End of the Old West at Gilman Ranch

Photo Essay: Along the Old Stagecoach Pass

Lost Spirits: The Disneyland of Distilleries (After the Fire) (Updated for 2022—Closed, But Reopening)

[Update 12/6/21 10:12 AM PT—As of 2021, the Lost Spirits Distillery tour in Los Angeles is closed indefinitely. Lost Spirits has shifted its attention to its new distillery tour experience in Las Vegas.]

[Update 3/30/22 9:56 PM PT—An email from Lost Spirits sent out on 3/28/22 indicates that the Los Angeles distillery will be reopening, date TBA.]

When I took the tour at Lost Spirits Distillery in Downtown LA's Arts District back in August 2017, it felt like I'd found myself in a haunted house of sorts—replete with a pirate's lair, a Caribbean jungle, and a library straight out of H. G. Wells's The Island of Dr. Moreau.



Over the next year and a half or so, the proprietors continued to build out the Willy Wonka-style tour,—enough to make me realize that I'd have to go back and experience the new and different build-outs.

Photo Essay: Bob Baker Marionette Theater's Grand Opening in the Former York Theatre [Updated for 2026]

[Last updated 4/13/26 7:20 PM PT—Bob Baker Marionette Theatre announced today that it was on track to buy the former York Theatre, rather than just leasing it. A letter from the co-executive directors announced that the puppet theater company has already raised 90% of its building purchase goal in just over a year, further stating: "...We know from experience that the key to the continuity of BBMT is ensuring that we can continue to operate from our physical space—and that true security can only be had through ownership." Another fundraising push aims to take them across the finish line, so they can truly be—as their neon marquee promises—"In LA to Stay."

The day after Thanksgiving this year, Bob Baker Marionette Theater celebrated its grand opening at its new location.



It was 56 years ago to the day—the day after Thanksgiving, that is—that Bob Baker himself opened his puppet theater in its old location on First Street in 1963.



Despite being designated a Historic-Cultural Monument in 2009, the old theater building—which wasn't a theater at all, but a studio/special effects workshop—got slated for condo development.



And it turned out to be just the kick in the pants that the puppet theater company needed to find a new home: the former York Theatre in the Northeast Los Angeles community of Highland Park.



Originally built in 1923 by Richard R.F. Lehman (a.k.a. R.R.F. Lehman) as a vaudeville house—and operated by the John Sugar Amusement Company/Vox Theatres— it most recently housed a Korean church, which had carpeted over the terrazzo flooring.



Once the congregation vacated, it was only a couple of months later—in February of this year—that the Bob Baker folks announced their lease of the York.



They got to work right away at tearing up the carpet and painting floors, walls, and doors. They were already performing preview shows by June of this year.



Although the seating capacity has been dramatically reduced from the original 700—now with a max occupancy of 476 people and 2219 puppets—original 1920s-era theater seats are still bolted to the floor.



Two chandeliers have been hung (a third is on its way) in front of a false proscenium, with those calling card red curtains hanging once again.



The clowns have returned to the sides of the "stage," too.



But an exciting new addition to the new location is a digital theatre organ, whose console is a Wurlitzer replica. It's all too fitting that this little toy-sized organ perform the preamble for puppet shows—and maybe even step into the spotlight for some future organ-oriented programming, too.



The L.A. Times reports that the York Theatre did, at one point, operate as Artisan Organ Hall for organ sales and repairs! And a 1923 edition of the L.A. Times also reports that the original theater operation housed a Wurlitzer for its vaudeville performances.



The auditorium is bigger and wider than it used to be—and that's a good thing. The sightlines have dramatically improved, especially with the raked floor.



But the upgrade to 10,000 square feet—from 7,000 sq. ft.—doesn't take away any of the intimacy of the performances.



If nothing else, it provides some extra room for puppet storage.



And while many of the puppets used in the theater company's shows date back several decades, there are new puppets still being created by the staff and volunteers who now run the show.

They've even resurrected some shows—and puppets—that haven't been seen in decades.

What they've already accomplished is incredible. And while they've still got more to do, there's no doubt that they will settle into their new home quite nicely.

For historic photos, visit the York Theatre page on Los Angeles Theatres.

Related Posts:
Photo Essay: Bob Baker Marionette Theater Company Bids Farewell to Their Home of 55 Years

The Art of Master Puppeteer Bob Baker, Upon His Passing