Fortress

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A Dogtown staple of LA’s underground scene.

Fortress, located on 544 Mateo Street, and officially christened as the Nate Starkman Building, was constructed as a warehouse and factory in 1908, and served in that capacity until the mid 1970s, when it was foreclosed and stood vacant for nearly a decade. Since then, the building was 'adopted', went through a wringer of subculture turbulence, and experienced many phases of occupation. From a squat, to a gallery, to an artist's commune, the varied forms that this bedrock of LA punk culture took on are unified in their vision of telling the man to go fuck himself. It stands in stark contrast to the creeping gentrification of the neighborhood.

The deed to the place has long been lost to time in a byzantine mess of the original owners' trusts, varied lawsuits, and eviction attempts. It has been marked for development multiple times, only to be thwarted by community action and legal hangups. Currently most of the 'estate' stands in disrepair, save for the main building, which hosts a shoddily hollowed out two-floor so-called ballroom where the main shows take place, an upstairs crash area, usually occupied by transients, crusties, and street people, and a basement that previously worked as a community darkroom before digital photography, and now is usually where couples abscond to or junkies shoot up in private.

A wide outdoor area is accessible past the main performance area, surrounded by long-locked storage units and offices. It would be serene if it weren't overrun by weeds, empty 40s, blunt-guts, broken furniture, stolen shopping carts, and inconceivable amounts of graffiti.

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  Backyard Exit

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  A Typical Washroom

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  The Exterior

Event Space

Acts can vary from screeching hardcore, to pumping D-Beat, to grinding black metal, to building-shaking industrial techno, to the occasional whiny singer-songwriter. Most are budding up and comers, or international acts without much of a following in the US. Occasionally, a big name will come through to pay homage to their roots.

Flyers for these events can be found on a cork board by the front of the Ballroom.

Hooks

• Performance: in a band? DJ? Like banging on things and screaming? Acts that wind up on fortress' foot-high stage are either exceptionally talented young groups that haven't been picked up yet or old, salty scene veterans that never sold out, man. Talent agents might hang up their suits for the night to lurk in the crowd for budding talent to exploit.
• Parties: do you even need to ask?
• Counter Culture and Activism: a hub for community organization and political activism, Fortress has carved a space for itself as an enclave for progressive social justice. Often, meetings on the second floor can extend late into the night as local revolutionaries try to reconcile theory and practice of ill-fated sit-ins, fundraisers, and demonstrations.
• Underworld: if you have the slightest bit of street sense, you'll be able to find a connection for illicit substances at Fortress. If you have more than a little, you might be able to crawl even further down the contraband rabbit hole. If you're law enforcement, you might have a few informants who are embedded in the scene, or have a habit of crashing particularly raucous events. Just try not to make the place smell like bacon.
• Facilities: in need of a place to crash? Need access to a computer, shower, WiFi, practice space, or studio to hone your craft? Fortress' doors are always open, but yuppies will probably be pelted with beer bottles.
• Development: the pressure has been building to flip 544 Mateo street into yet another another profitable coffee shop, artist loft, or boutique hair salon, but the residents are uncompromising in their ideals. Perhaps there's a chink in the armor somewhere.