Solair Wilshire, a 22-story mixed-use development featuring 186 for-sale residential units and 50,000 square feet of retail space, is in many ways the embodiment of  ”transit-oriented development” (TOD), currently in vogue among urban planners and developers alike. It literally towers about the MTA’s Wilshire/Western Purple Line Station in Koreatown. The design of the tower is so seamlessly integrated with the subway entrance that the 70 residents who have put down non-refundable deposits on those units must have a hard time finding an excuse not to take mass transit.

Towering above an MTA station, Solair is the quintessence of TOD.

Countless polemics have been raised over TOD, particularly in Los Angeles, none more vociferous than an L.A. Weekly exposé several months back characterizing it as a sort of Trojan’s Horse, a pretext for density foisted on unwilling or unsuspecting neighborhoods, contrary to the very DNA of the city.

Its viability in the marketplace aside, and even putting aside for the moment any discussion of whether it actually encourages transit (a June 2007 L.A. Times study sadly indicates that it doesn’t), TOD seems to have escaped criticism on the more basic level of urban design. Using Solair as an example,  the much-touted “walkability” promoted by TOD  ends up being something of an illusion, a fiction that extends no more than a city block in either direction. Because if you walk around the block, north toward Sixth Street from Wilshire, the seamy underbelly of high-rise density becomes apparent in both the massive above-grade parking structure and surface lots necessary to comply with already-relaxed parking requirements and service entrances for the retail component. There is a massive, intrusive ramp leading from the sidewalk up to the second story of the building, with prominent banners and flags advertising “Solair Sales Center,” the irony being of course that the realtors for the project clearly expect prospective customers to arrive by car. So much for a self-selecting, transit-conscientious pool of buyers in Los Angeles. (Additional site photos to be posted shortly).

This side street (Oxford Avenue) becomes a classic “dead zone,” mere steps away from the bustling Wilshire corridor, utterly uninviting for a pedestrian to casually explore. So much for a contiguous street wall, or any of the other urban design principles thought to be necessary for activating street life. The groundfloor storefronts at Solair seem like the façades on a movie set – hollow when viewed from the rear.

KOAR, the well-intentioned developer behind Solair, is probably doing the best it can, given both site constraints and market demand for parking. Solair could not succeed without it, and subway infrastructure beneath the building most likely prevents more than one subterranean level from being built to tuck more of the parking out of sight. But the fact remains, even the posterchild for TOD is still the visible product of a car-centric regulatory regime and culture.