Since the beginning of this trip, we’ve stood in a number of Hollywood’s historical landmarks. As we learn more and more of the significance behind these locations and their purpose, standing in the midst of them begins to feel increasingly overwhelming. I wonder about the impact historical knowledge of any art form has on an artist’s ability to practice it. Would Tig Notaro be in a different position had she graduated high school and decided to study comedy in an academic context? Would Colin Jost still be regarded as talented and humorous enough to fill a seat at SNL’s Weekend Update desk had he not graduated from Harvard? Regardless, there seems to be an unspoken responsibility on aspiring directors, writers and performers to learn of the history behind the industry they want to be a part of. As I learn more and more, it seems clear as to why our understanding of history collaborates with our creative process. The stories we wish to share and the way we go about sharing them fit into an ongoing history of the story of Hollywood.

While trying to visualize our potential place in the history of this ever-changing industry, it’s eerie to consider the influential relationship between what we know of show business’s past and how we conceptualize contributing to its future. In Hollywood Remembered: An Oral History of its Golden Age, Paul Zollo quotes Laurence Hill’s observation that “Few now living in Hollywood know that DeLongpre used to pluck his choicest roses where now stands the Warner Brothers Theatre” (12). Painter Paul DeLongpre had unintentionally created Hollywood’s first tourist attraction in his ornate mansion and prize-winning gardens, only to have it torn down following his death in 1911, just in time for the arrival of Hollywood’s first film productions. I’m not concerned with the fate of Delongpre’s property, but with the fact that many don’t know its existence had a part in Hollywood’s history. During the drive back to Oakwood Hills earlier today, Clay mentioned that many of the 2% of Los Angeles’s residents working in the Media and Entertainment industry drive past the Hollywood Heritage Museum (HHM) without realizing it is the barn where Cecile B. DeMille filmed The Squaw Man, the first full-length motion picture to be entirely shot in Hollywood. During our visit to the HHM, a volunteer employee named John gave us a short, descriptive lecture on the production of The Squaw Man and the subsequent events. He began his lecture with this photo of the entire cast and crew, orchestrated by DeMille, the man “directing” to the far right.

Afterward, I asked John if I could stand outside and view the barn from the perspective of the camera that took this photo a century ago. He responded that no, I could not, as this section of the barnyard burned down years after the completion of The Squaw Man. Perhaps it’s better that way. The set is preserved through photos of the time and the tireless enthusiasm of passionate individuals, rather than by Tess Gattuso’s Instagram. History isn’t valuable in the extent that it is tangible, but in the purpose it gives countless aspiring artists today. That Delongpre’s gardens were demolished or the specific section of the barnyard burned down does not hinder the great value they hold. All we can do is continue to believe in the industry they played a part in developing and keep them in mind as we try to build on it.

Tess Gattuso