Los Angeles Daily News - October 20, 2007

 

Eli Broad has made his mark on L.A.

By Tony Castro

 

rom his 12th-floor suite in an office complex in Westwood, Eli Broad looks over acres of million-dollar homes, soaring towers along Wilshire Boulevard and clogged swaths of freeways and thoroughfares.

It is the disjointed, cacophonous Los Angeles in which Broad lives. But it's not the coherent, organized Los Angeles he envisions for the future.

"We've got a great city and have a lot of great communities, whether it's the Valley or whether it's the Westside or whether it's Pasadena," he says. "But you need one place where people from all communities can come together, whether it's for the arts, culture, sports, whatever.

"We are, after all, one of the four great capitals of the world along with New York, London and Paris."

If that is true, one reason is because the 74-year-old billionaire and philanthropist has arguably played one of the largest roles in shaping the cultural and physical landscapes of a city that feeds on wealth, personality and power.

His personal imprint looms over the city — the Museum of Contemporary Art downtown, the completion of The Walt Disney Concert Hall, the expansion and redesign of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.

Last month, his vision for a $2.5billion Grand Avenue redevelopment cleared its final hurdle for construction in a move that Broad believes will forever change the city skyline and set a course for future development downtown.

Also last month, his Broad Foundation donated $20million to the Eli and Edythe Broad Center of Regenerative Medicine and Stem Cell Research at UCLA.

Last week, Broad was one of four presented with the Carnegie Medal of Philanthropy in Pittsburgh, honoring those who dedicate their wealth to the public good and have long-standing careers as philanthropists.

"I've never been one who enjoys the status quo," Broad says.

"I'm always pushing for new ideas, whether it's in business or philanthropy."

Along with $25 million he donated last year to create the Broad Institute for Integrative Biology and Stem Cell Research at the Keck School of Medicine at USC, Broad has almost single-handedly made Los Angeles one of the nation's hubs for stem-cell research.

"When you look at his record, you see that Eli is a terrifically valuable person," says George Kieffer, an attorney who heads the Los Angeles Civic Alliance. "He's made enormous contributions for the arts, education and medicine and has a particular vision for Grand Avenue that may prove to be very important to the city."

Just how powerful?

Perceived by many today as one of the most powerful players in Los Angeles, Broad also is among the richest men in the world, with a $5.8billion fortune in a city where money alone can make someone a player.

But just how powerful is the man whom some call the architect of modern Los Angeles and the king of L.A.?

"Eli Broad is re-imagining Los Angeles, and that makes him more like the Chandlers and less like everybody else," author and historian D.J. Waldie says, referring to the former owners of the Los Angeles Times.

"Broad seems to have a broader reach in (the city's) culture - his commitment to museums, his art collection, his involvement in Disney Hall and now his Grand Avenue (project) and how that might shape Los Angeles."

Broad seems to make no secret that exceeding what others have done for Los Angeles is part of his vision. He has even gone so far as to say that his Grand Avenue project would be the "Champs-Elysees of Los Angeles" - a comparison he now begs off.

"Oh, I said that once, and I've got to live that down," he says. "I think Grand Avenue has to be a grand avenue. It's got the four venues of the music center including Disney Hall. People thought (calling it the Champs-Elysees) was overdone, over the top. (But) it does speak for itself."

Overdue identity

Ultimately, what Grand Avenue does, Broad says, is give Los Angeles a long-overdue identity.

"Think about it," he says. "We've got a great opera with Placido Domingo, a great symphony and a great symphony hall, more theatrical productions ... than New York, London or Paris, great universities and the biggest book market in America.

"But yet we're viewed as a cultural wasteland and not a cultural oasis, which we are. So putting this all together and having a vibrant center, I think, helps everyone."

The Grand Avenue project, which Broad spearheaded, calls for 2,600 condominiums and apartments, a 9-acre recreational and cultural promenade, 400,000square feet of retail space, a 275-room hotel and a 50-story translucent glass tower designed by renowned architect Frank Gehry.

In Broad's vision, only his foundation work exceeds what he expects on Grand Avenue. The foundation so far has committed $2.25billion to education and medical research, as well as the arts.

Waning clout?

Broad also has money to burn on political campaigns. Just in the past year, more than $65,000 of his money has fattened congressional and presidential war chests alone.

But after a recent high-profile stretch that included a Vanity Fair magazine profile, some say Broad's power - beyond what money can buy - might be waning.

He was among the targets of a recent report by The New York Times questioning whether the public benefits of philanthropy are commensurate with the tax benefits the nation's wealthy givers receive.

And critical observers of the city and its power structure say that for all of Broad's influence in arts and culture, his role as a political power broker is paling.

"I think Eli had more influence when we had a weak mayor like (James) Hahn than in this machine we have now of big real-estate developers and a rubber-stamp City Council that have made (Mayor Antonio) Villaraigosa so unassailable," author and urban historian Joel Kotkin says.

With one phone call, Hahn says, Broad was able to talk the former mayor out of merging the Cultural Affairs Department under the Department of Recreation and Parks.

"My sense," Kotkin says, "is that Eli had much more power when there was a more dispersed political leadership than we have now."

Role minimized

That feeling extends even inside the city's power establishment, although many are reluctant to publicly talk about it.

"Eli is important in Los Angeles, but he's not the power broker that some make him out to be. He has money, and that's what makes him important," one political-business leader says.

"(But) ... he's not a consensus-builder who's going to bring a lot of different people together. He's not a political thinker who's going to have great insight into (political) power and how it's attained. And he has limited political skills."

For his part, Broad says that despite his high profile in the city, he is retired from business and his emphasis is on his foundation work and seeing his Grand Avenue dream fulfilled.

But local history experts say Broad might be an iconic illustration of how power has shifted and continues to evolve in Los Angeles.

In the 1950s, a power establishment worked broadly behind the scenes orchestrating land and political development in the city.

Called the Committee of 25, it included some of the city's richest men - including Times publisher Norman Chandler and Asa Call of Pacific Mutual Insurance.

The group handpicked mayors and their platforms and dictated the growth of the city.

But today, the age of the kingmaker in Los Angeles is history.

Changing scene

"That type of individual power has been eclipsed," says Robert Gottlieb, the Henry R. Luce professor of urban environmental studies at Occidental College.

Raphael J. Sonenshein, professor of political science at California State University, Fullerton, says he thinks the power shift began about four decades ago.

"Historically, there was a time when a private citizen could be the power behind the throne, but that's less true today," he says.

That's because in the 1960s, the power and visibility of elected officials began increasing and continued in the mayoral administrations of Tom Bradley and Richard Riordan, who combined the essence of powerful, rich individuals with elected office.

It was Riordan who helped Broad transition in the 1990s from an arts-cultural leader to political figure - first as Riordan's point man in rescuing construction of the foundering Disney Concert Hall and then teaming up in a lavish campaign to reform the city's public schools through handpicked board members.

Helping Antonio

But if power in Los Angeles is intertwined with mayoral relationships, Broad's status has significantly shifted under Villaraigosa.

In 2001, Broad was a key financial backer of his mayoral campaign.

In one primary victory celebration fitting of a Hollywood political drama, Broad stood tall among supporters with a smile of satisfaction on his face.

Even after Villaraigosa's defeat in that campaign, Broad helped support the budding politician with a consulting position until he could run for office again.

By then, the Broad legend of power broker and kingmaker was in full bloom. Just four years ago, a Los Angeles magazine headline proclaimed: "He has more pull than the mayor, more art than Getty and more money than God. Does Eli Broad own L.A.?"

By then, too, Broad was at work fattening Villaraigosa's credibility with a constituency he needed to widen his appeal for a second mayoral bid.

"Broad was important for Villaraigosa in reaching out to the business community and in having the mantle of being an education reformer," Sonenshein says.

"But in Los Angeles today, as we've seen in Villaraigosa, being the mayor is a pretty powerful person."

Parting of ways

For Broad, that came as a jolting realization. He is no longer as close to Villaraigosa as he once was, having a public parting over the mayor's ill-fated campaign to take control of the Los Angeles Unified School District.

Broad views education as a pillar of his legacy, so when Villaraigosa was elected in 2005, it meant an opportunity to put into effect mayoral control of education that Broad and Riordan had once hoped to accomplish.

But almost immediately after Villaraigosa's swearing-in, the two had a run-in when Broad — without Villaraigosa's input — orchestrated legislation to allow the mayor to appoint the school board if schools failed key performance measures.

Miffed about details of the bill and its introduction, Villaraigosa refused to support it.

"The mayor," Broad later recalled with a trace of skepticism, "`wasn't ready' at that time."

A year later, Villaraigosa was ready.

But when the bill ran into opposition from the teachers union, he negotiated a back-room deal in Sacramento that Broad and others thought compromised too much.

Broad swore not to support the legislation, even withholding money from a mayoral committee that had been set up to lobby for the bill.

Villaraigosa, though, had other resources - big developers with projects in the city who were eager to line his committee's coffers.

As one member of the city's power structure observed: "It's come to the point that (Broad) needs the mayor more than the mayor needs him."

But that can chafe Broad, whose impatience has both driven him to high achievements and left him with a reputation of being uncompromisingly stubborn.

"When you deal with Eli," one downtown business leader says, "you have to be prepared to do things his way or the highway."

Broad sent a letter to the mayor expressing his dissatisfaction and his withdrawal of support. Within days, the letter was leaked to the news media.

Also made public was Villaraigosa's reply - short and dismissive.

Education key

Their relationship has never been the same since. When Broad's foundation announced in May that it was injecting $10 million in grants into an alliance to create 13 charter schools, Villaraigosa did not attend the ceremonies.

Broad says that despite their difference on the mayoral takeover bill, the two remain joint supporters of educational reform, especially of charter schools, into which the Broad Foundation has contributed $41million.

Broad also points out that Villaraigosa has been supportive of his Grand Avenue project and his stem-cell research campaign.

"Mr. Broad has been a leading voice in the civic and cultural life of Los Angeles, and the mayor very much values his advice," mayoral spokeswoman Janelle Erickson says.

Among their few meetings since their falling out was a three-hour dinner earlier this year at Patina in the Walt Disney Concert Hall.

"We drank a lot of good wine (and) talked about a lot of things," Broad recalled. "I've known Antonio for 11 years. I think Antonio is a bridge between many communities. Antonio has a very different job now as mayor than in the Legislature.

"Now, he's chief executive of this city. That's different than being the head of a legislative body where you do all sorts of compromises. And I think he's doing fine."

But there was one thing in particular Broad wanted to tell the mayor that night over dinner.

And he remembered it with a trace of satisfaction that no amount of money can buy.

"I said, `Antonio, I'm not your lapdog that's going to agree with everything you say."'

* * * 

Copyright ©2007 Los Angeles Newspaper Group.