metro

The Westside subway extension has long been L.A’s most stubborn urban fantasy: an infrastructural mirage chugging toward the sea, and then, with less sex appeal, Westwood. Stalled since the ‘80s, the first western leap of the elusive project is now real. And in the month or so since the Metro D Line pushed beyond Wilshire/Western to three new stations — Wilshire/La Brea, Wilshire/Fairfax, and Wilshire/La Cienega — multiple rides have made the benefits, and shortcomings, clear.

Suddenly the city feels different. Not transformed, exactly. But more connected. The fracturing grip of the city’s incomprehensible expanses, clogged arteries, and stagnant governance — all intimidating barriers to healthy civic life — feels a little looser. The dense belt tying the city together more complete, a critical mass of movement, still expanding, where there used to be a vestigial nub.

The stations, too, feel more connected, with art, architecture and infrastructure blending seamlessly into a cohesive experience, a tribute to Metro’s sharpened design approach and its ever-evolving commitment to public art. But above ground, it’s a tale of two (transit) cities. Outdoor plazas lack the kind of textured civic presence that’s been created below. Metro, which has become the most dominant regional force for urban transformation, is still less ambitious once it leaves the station box.

Passengers wait to board the first train to arrive at the Metro D Line at the Wilshire/Fairfax station in Los Angeles in early May.

(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)

Before descending into the new stations, you might want to take a moment to appreciate that they exist at all, surviving, among other trials, a massive methane explosion, federal and local bans, major delays, and a battalion of lawsuits. Then notice how their myriad components work together. Art, for instance, is not simply attached to walls, but forms them, its patterns tracing your descent through space. Lighting doesn’t just illuminate surfaces, but becomes an artful complement to what’s around it. Escalators are not just conveyances, but reflective surfaces forming a utilitarian palette for art and light. The line between each piece becomes blurred, creating a sense that all is working together — a layered place that is intuitively easy to use.

This fluent incorporation of art builds on the long-running L.A. Metro Art program (formerly Metro Art in Transit), which since the early ‘80s has commissioned and installed over 200 artworks across the sprawling system, from mosaics and photography to multi-story murals. In fact, it’s quietly hummed along as one of the most successful public art programs in the country.

Artist Fran Siegel’s artwork at the Wilshire/La Brea Metro station is part of one of the most successful public art programs in the country.

(Carlin Stiehl / For The Times)

In many of its earlier iterations, art and architecture were conceived together to create strange, jaw-dropping, one-of-a kind spaces, like Peter Millar and Ellerbe Becket’s Santa Monica/Vermont station. Opened in 1999, this Red line stop featured among other things, a goliath stainless steel wing canopy topping a 42-foot-tall, raw concrete-clad escalator cavern, lit by massive skylights, etched with row after row of enigmatic questions.

Another personal favorite is Stephen Antonakos’ “Neons for Pershing Square,” a postmodern wonderland of suspended neon sculptures in the depths of downtown’s Pershing Square station that creates a kind of 3-D sculpture playing off the ‘80s gridded ceilings and Miami Vice white columns.

Wild creativity aside, these 20th century stations are marked by inconsistency in quality, comfort, and maintenance — and the lack of predictability can be confusing. (Wait, where do I go now?) This includes Metro’s inaugural A line, in which art-driven architecture, though fun, often feels like a quixotic gesture, unable to compete with loud, uncomfortable, concrete-dominated settings.

A man waits for a train on a platform at the Wilshire/Vermont station, which is along Metro’s B Line, formerly the Red Line.

(Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times)

Lines opened in the 2010s had their own issues. The Expo line (now the E line), barely 14 years old, features rather tentative wavy canopies and surface wraps and comparatively small spaces for artworks. With the new extension, Metro has found a balance between completely foregrounding art and relegating it to background. The new designs are guided by a “kit of parts,” a shared language of materials, lighting, signage, and wall systems that was developed first by local architects Johnson Fain and later by the global architectural firm Gensler, which served as the D Line’s systemwide station designer.

Yes, I miss the epic scale and immersive feeling of those older stations. But the tradeoff is a cleaner, brighter, more legible and human-scaled version, lending long-needed coherence to both the stations themselves and the system at large. And by the way, the art is still fantastic.

At the descending entryway of Wilshire/La Brea, for instance, the cosmic, angled lines of Eamon Ore-Giron’s “Infinite Landscape: Los Angeles Para Siempre,” which are embedded into porcelain enamel, channel not only the geometric forms of Wilshire’s Art Deco Buildings, but the visceral one-point perspective of a train speeding into a tunnel, and even the angled geometries of adjacent escalators.

Artist Eamon Ore-Giron’s “Infinite Landscape: Los Angeles Para Siempre,” at the Wilshire/La Brea Metro station.

(Carlin Stiehl / For The Times)

Heading down allows you to ponder its shifting mysteries. Circular abstractions might suggest headlights zooming along Wilshire, or perhaps a train’s fast-approaching lights? Its artfulness expands outward. Frosted glass panels wrapping the entry portal are clad with a similarly mystical language, accentuated by neon strips of light, with the lightweight canopy above reflecting the colorful lines. Art and architecture are working together, each feeding off the other.

A particularly fertile locale for drama at each station are the wide bands of art topping the tunnels themselves: beacon-like destinations for your eyes, not to mention invitations to occupy more of the platform. In the same station, Mark Dean Veca’s “Miracle of La Brea” takes its cues from the curvy ornament and stepped motifs of the nearby Wilshire Tower’s Art Deco façade. Look closer, and those crisp patterns dissolve into swirling, viscous forms that evoke the La Brea Tar Pits, flowing oil, and even barley-shaped references to the area’s agricultural past. The mural’s repeating forms also mirror the station’s rigorous order, its clean, syncopated forms and linear perspectives.

Another hallmark of the new stations is how they subtly make infrastructure itself into art. Celebrating — whether intentionally or not — the improbable engineering feat of carving a subway under one of the most dense, congested, and geologically and politically complicated parts of Los Angeles. Jogging white lines along concourse floors, meant as tactical guides for the vision impaired, rhythmically and playfully lead you forward. Glinting stainless steel railings, gridded perforated metal ceilings, and thin bands of suspended light bouncing off polished terrazzo floors, pull you forward on stairs and platforms, tracing the speed and linear movement of trains. Corduroy concrete walls, etched with endless vertical grooves, give tunnels a tightly rhythmic texture while still exposing their hefty bones.

The Wilshire/La Brea Metro station is part of the D Line extension and features evenly lit spaces, with porous surfaces and long sight lines to improve navigation and safety. Glass fare gate doors organize entry without turning the stations into fortresses.

(Carlin Stiehl / For The Times)

The quality of surfaces and experiences has been upgraded too. Unlike most older Metro stations, where low light and heavy surfaces can feel tired and oppressive, spaces are more evenly lit, with porous surfaces and long sight lines to improve navigation and safety. Glass fare gate doors organize entry without turning the stations into fortresses. Glass elevators and large cuts between levels create a sense of connected, kinetic openness.

Sometimes this palette feels too uniform and predictable. The heroic scale and quirkiness of older stations can be more exciting; more unique to their place. A surprise or two never hurt anyone. But overall it’s a good balance of unity, utility and identity, allowing the art to sing, but as part of a chorus, not a soloist.

The tune, however, shifts dramatically above ground. Station plazas wrap handsome modern architecture—clean, controlled, well-detailed portals of beveled stainless steel, frosted glass, and art peeking above entryways and on peripheral panels. But the hard plazas themselves are barren; lacking enough shade, art, greenery and invitation. Benches, where they exist, are tiny and defensive.

Pedestrians walk past the Metro D Line at Wilshire and LaBrea, which features a barren plaza lacking the beauty and design of the art-filled stations below.

(Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)

These places seem scared to let people linger — clearly trying to avoid some of the city’s intransigent challenges, like homeless encampments, disorder, maintenance burdens, and controversy. This is understandable, but in avoiding those risks, the areas also avoid the purpose of public space: to create a place for everyone, not just a zone for people passing through.

Yet life appears anyway. At Wilshire/Fairfax, a dance class from a nearby studio recently gathered in a thin sliver of shade around the station. It was beautiful, and improvised, but also indicative of the underlying problem. Civic life was there, but the space had failed to make enough room for it. Imagine if that plaza had real shade, generous seating, creative sculpture, plantings, water, and edges that encouraged people to stay.

Another unresolved question is service. On multiple visits trains were not crowded. They also didn’t come often enough. Ten or 12 minutes of stagnant wait time does not feel like freedom if you are trying to lure Angelenos out of cars.

The last-mile problem doesn’t help. There is no easy parking near stations for those who don’t live close, no seamless transfer or final step. The bikes that Metro provides still have share docks, meaning you’ll need to find another dock on the far end (good luck). This remains, as it should, a system for people who already need transit. But for an institution struggling to add ridership, you wonder if it can become a system for people who have choices.

The Wilshire/La Cienega Metro station is part of L.A.’s new D Line extension. The outdoor plazas are not conducive to community or gatherings.

(Carlin Stiehl / For The Times)

Still, we should not understate what has happened. Los Angeles finally has subway stops that serve some of its densest, most public destinations, and Metro is still growing. The D Line makes the Miracle Mile feel less like a traffic corridor and more like a metropolitan spine. It suggests a Los Angeles in which neighborhoods, jobs, cultural destinations, and sidewalks begin to connect physically and with surprising immediacy. (Twenty minutes from LACMA to downtown feels like light speed!) It makes the city feel more like a city.

It also reveals the imbalance of power and imagination in Los Angeles. Metro, for all its flaws, has the ability to marshal money, planning, engineering and art at a scale the city itself generally cannot. All the more reason to branch more boldly beyond its tracks and stations.

The question remains: Can the agency coordinate with government, developers, cultural institutions, and neighborhoods to make these stations into places rather than portals?

The new stops prove that Los Angeles can design infrastructure artfully below ground. Above ground, however, it too often retreats into caution. The subway has arrived. The city around it still has to catch up.

In 1995, when the L.A. Metro system was in its most nascent stage, Ken Karagozian — then an amateur photographer in an Owens Valley, Calif., workshop — found his way underground to document the subterranean marriage between downtown L.A. and Westlake through Metro’s Red Line, now called the B Line.

From that came a feature in Life magazine, but more importantly, a driving principle: Karagozian believed that the construction workers, engineers and electricians who were subject to the whims of a city indecisive on the subway project were deserving of intimate documentation. The invisible many who built the pyramids and New York’s skyline never got that chance, he said, but the people who contributed to the historically controversial Metro D Line from Koreatown to Westwood would, if he had a say.

“When I did take photography workshops, they always said, ‘Do a project close to your home,’” Karagozian said on a call from his Agoura Hills residence. “I wrote a letter to [L.A. Metro], which said, ‘How can I get permission to photograph?’”

Days before the fires ravaged L.A. in 2025, Altadena-based historian and author India Mandelkern had a phone call with Karagozian, who was interested in collaborating on a project about the D Line. After publishing a book on the art and politics of street lighting in Los Angeles, Mandelkern worked on the L.A. Metro blog, soliciting interviews from Angelenos who seemed desperate for a line to the Westside.

A Karagozian photo shows a group of workers during the Section 2 breakthrough during the underground construction of the Metro D Line.

(Ken Karagozian)

A photo by Karagozian shows sunlight filtering underground into the Wilshire/Fairfax site during construction.

(Ken Karagozian)

After Mandelkern connected with Karagozian, their project had solid form: a photo book, titled “Wilshire Subway: The Making of the D Line Subway Extension,” about the history, conflict and people behind the scenes and underground ahead of the May 8 opening of the subway expansion along Wilshire Boulevard. (New stations will be added at Wilshire/La Brea, Wilshire/Fairfax and Wilshire/La Cienega. In the future, stations in Beverly Hills, Century City and Westwood will open.)

A related photo exhibition, “Wilshire Subway: Photographed by Ken Karagozian,” is on view through May 14 at the 1301PE art gallery on Wilshire Boulevard.

This week, we chatted more with Karagozian and Mandelkern about their project.

After writing a book about the social history of street lighting, what brought you underground?

Mandelkern: Well, a couple different reasons. First, I was very interested in Metro just because I had worked there as the blog editor, and in that role, I got to explore so many different stories. I thought Wilshire Boulevard was one of the most interesting places, the stories of this rail-building ambition that persisted for so many different years, and what that says about Angelenos. Second, I think that we talk about L.A. as a horizontal city, and that’s certainly true. If you go somewhere like Tokyo, you instantly see that this is what a vertical city is, but I wanted to bring a little bit of that to L.A. There is so much history buried beneath the ground that we seem to forget, and once you start tunneling, you realize that it’s always been there and it hasn’t disappeared. It’s just pushed beneath us.

In support of their new project, writer India Mendelkern, left, and photographer Ken Karagozian appear at the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books in April.

(Ken Karagozian)

Of all the people you spoke to for this book, which one most influenced the way you understood what the D Line could provide for the city?

Karagozian: This was a joint venture between three contractors, and they each had their specialty. It was Skanska, Traylor [Bros.] and Shea. With Traylor, they were brothers and they were doing the tunneling. Richard McLane [chief mechanical engineer of Traylor Bros.] was very helpful in telling me a little bit about the history of Wilshire Boulevard and facts of tunneling. … All these different contractors impacted the project in some way.

Mandelkern: I always say Ken is one of the best construction photographers out there, but his specialty is really people. When I interviewed some of these individual workers, a whole different story came to light, and I realized that many of these workers came to L.A., started at the bottom of the totem pole, and through working on the subway have risen through the ranks, gotten promotions, become leaders, and their kids now work in construction. … It’s just so amazing that so many of these individuals are doing all this work behind the scenes that creates infrastructure that connects all of us.

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1. Carpenter Jenna Dorough poses for a portrait by Karagozian during the underground construction of the Metro D Line. 2. A concrete supervisor photographed by Karagozian at the La Cienega Boulevard station. (Ken Karagozian)

There are many portraits in the book of the builders who created the D Line. India referred to the short lifespans of the workers compared to the marvelous structures they craft: Was it intentional that you documented most of the D Line’s visual history through the people who built it?

Karagozian: When I go down underground and after the stations are completed, to me, it’s the people that built it that should tell the story. I didn’t just want to get a shot of them from behind. I really like to photograph their faces. … When I photographed the workers from the Red Line, some of these workers from the middle ’90s are still working on the Purple Line. I’ve known them for years, and now their children are working in construction; it becomes a family issue. … Going down and photographing the tunnels with that lighting in that perspective, it’s always been so interesting.

Mandelkern: That just reminded me of one of the quotes in the book from John Yen, who is the VP of operations at Skanska. He said, “In construction, we work ourselves out of a job.” I always found it really interesting that, as we build, the whole point is to kind of disappear. It reminded me of one of my favorite quotes in the essay, when James [Rojas] writes [that] when the stations are open, they’ll be shiny and new, but that will kind of erase all the memories and all the work of the people who’ve been doing this for all this time. This book really became a way to sort of remember all of these different people that have been working on these projects for decades and decades, even if they’re not really remembered in the official record.

As the D Line prepares to open, does it somehow feel like the end of a journey?

Mandelkern: This just [started] so many other things for me. Afterwards, I decided I really want to learn about the geology of L.A., and I found an interest in paleontology, too. I hope with any book that it just gets people curious, and it gets them to start asking questions. I think that “Wilshire Subway” does accomplish that. L.A. is just this bowl with all these different salad layers, and as we penetrate down, we learn more and more about our history.

Karagozian: It does a little bit. With May 8 being the grand opening, and as the stations are complete and they’re testing the trains underground, it almost feels like it’s graduation time. Time to celebrate the journey of going through high school, college, whatever. I am still continuing to photograph the [Purple Line extension], which is Rodeo or Beverly [Hills] station … Now it’s just the accomplishment of celebrating all the work that I’ve put into this project and going down almost once a week and photographing the process for so many years.

Ticket prices are just the start of the soaring expenses many fans will face while trying to watch World Cup games this summer.

NJ Transit is charging $150 for round-trip tickets from Manhattan to the Meadowlands (the regular price is $12.60) for the World Cup final, while host committee shuttle buses will cost $80.

The Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority is demanding $80 to ride one of the 14 express trains on the 30-mile trip from downtown Boston to Foxborough for games at Gillette Stadium. That’s more than three times the normal price.

Parking in Kansas City, meanwhile, will set you back by as much as $900, depending on the game and lot.

In Southern California, however, it will cost $1.75 to get to SoFi Stadium on a combination of buses or trains from as far away as Claremont and Simi Valley. That’s also what it costs to get to the Inglewood venue on any other day of the year; only two of the 11 World Cup cities in the U.S. are offering less expensive public transportation.

“We’re trying to make things convenient,” said Conan Cheung, the chief operations officer for the Los Angeles County Metropolitan Transportation Authority, or LA Metro, the second-largest transit agency in the country, servicing more than 305 million riders in 2025.

That’s a marked departure from the experience fans have reported ahead of this summer’s World Cup, which was marked by complaints over difficulty getting access to buy tickets, high ticket prices, shifts in seat locations after they were purchased, high fees and expensive game-day transportation.

“There’s no standardized fare set across the board,” Cheung said of World Cup transportation. “We’ve made a commitment to keep our system accessible. The way we’re planning the entire program is to ensure that we support people from the minute they decide to come to L.A. for the World Cup.

Workers are getting SoFi Stadium ready to host World Cup matches this summer.

(Eduard Cauich / Los Angeles Times )

“We also want to make sure that your excitement and your experience for the World Cup starts and ends on Metro.”

LA Metro has been able to hold costs down in part because it received $9.6 million in funding from the $100 million Congress gave the Federal Transit Administration to support transportation to and from World Cup stadiums. LA Metro is adding about 300 buses to its regular fleet to handle the additional demand, with shuttles servicing nine direct routes to SoFi and various fan zones.

Roughly 200 of those buses will lent to LA Metro from 11 regional transit agencies. Additional security officers also will be added.

“I feel prepared,” Cheung said, “but you never know what’s going to happen. We’ve done enough major special events to know that you can do all the planning in the world, but you need to make sure that you have contingencies in place and you’re prepared to pivot at a moment’s notice.”

A case in point: when Game 3 of last fall’s World Series went into extra innings, LA Metro immediately extended the operating hours for Metro buses and trains, ensuring people had rides home when the game ended just shy of midnight.

“Part of our preparedness is going through tabletop exercises,” he said. “The point is to ensure that the flow from the parking, from the transit connection and walking up made sense and was intuitive and easy to follow.”

Since Metro trains don’t run directly to SoFi, Cheung has added shuttle buses to take fans from the stations to the stadium. Portable restrooms and hydration stations will be available. And nine park-and-ride sites will be set up around L.A. and Orange counties. Reserve and pay for a parking space and everyone in your car can ride to the stadium for free. (Be sure to bring a lot of friends since the parking fees range from $59 to $102 for the June 12 opening match.)

A pair of visitors from Japan rush to catch a Metro bus in March.

(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)

Cheung said LA Metro has been preparing for the World Cup almost as long as some of the players. When Taylor Swift brought her Eras tour to SoFi in the summer of 2023, LA Metro used that as something of a dress rehearsal for the World Cup, expanding late service and adding free shuttles from nearby train stations.

That increased ridership by 25%, which meant less traffic on the roads and freeways leading to the stadium. A repeat of that could be crucial during the World Cup since five of the eight games played at SoFi are scheduled to start at noon local time.

And just as the Taylor Swift concerts prepared LA Metro for the World Cup, now the World Cup will help inform preparations for the 2028 Olympics.

“A lot of the strategies that we’re doing now — the process for working with not only local jurisdictions, state and federal agencies, as well as the other transit agencies in the regions — we’re setting up ways that are going to help not only for the Olympics and Paralympics, but anytime we need to pull together to support our communities for special events [or] natural disasters.”

For more information on LA Metro services in and around the World Cup, go to www.metro.net/riding/world-cup

⚽ You have read the latest installment of On Soccer with Kevin Baxter. The weekly column takes you behind the scenes and shines a spotlight on unique stories. Listen to Baxter on this week’s episode of the “Corner of the Galaxy” podcast.

Don’t you ever wish you could explore one of L.A.’s most vibrant boulevards without a car? When the first phase of Metro’s extension to its D Line opens May 8, L.A.’s transit system will add what has long been a missing puzzle piece. A busy, traffic-snarled section of Wilshire Boulevard, home to world-class museums, restaurants and galleries, will at long last be significantly more accessible.

Ride and walk, for instance, to the newly reimagined Los Angeles County Museum of Art, and then stroll to the Original Farmers Market or the acclaimed République. Or take transit to a concert at the El Rey Theatre, then grab a pint at Tom Bergin’s. And do it all without stressing about valet or parking in a part of town where the latter is at a premium.

Though this initial phase of the D Line extension is only three stops, for residents and business owners in the community, it feels monumental.

“I’m so excited for Metro to open and for lots of people to hopefully come and peruse these streets,” says Christina Mullin, owner of Miracle Mile Toys & Gifts. Mullin, who also lives in the neighborhood, has seen the area disrupted by construction for the better part of a decade, and is hopeful the subway stops will bring in an influx of shoppers.

“It’s such a nice, walkable area,” Mullin says. “You can walk all of La Brea and all the way to the Sycamore Kitchen. This will be very good for the city.”

And it seems to be generating much excitement, at least if Metro’s own marketing is any indication. A line of innuendo-filled “Ride the D” shirts went viral and then almost instantaneously sold out. (Those looking for the shirts are likely out of luck, as a Metro spokesperson says the item was intended only as a limited-edition run.)

Here are some highlights of destinations along the new stations, which are located at Wilshire/La Brea, Wilshire/Fairfax, Wilshire/La Cienega and will collectively serve Koreatown, Miracle Mile, Hancock Park, Carthay Circle, the Fairfax District and Beverly Hills. All should be within about a 20- or 25 minute walk.

The second section of the D Line will continue west through Beverly Hills and Century City, and the third will extend to Westwood and UCLA. The full rail line, according to Metro, is expected to be open by the end of 2027.