DIVERSIONS : Luscious Lobbies : First Impressions Count in Show-Stopping Spaces Where Function Meets Fantasy

Simply put, a lobby is an entrance to a building. But in the hands of a talented designer or architect, a lobby can be transformed into a vision of faraway lands, long-ago eras, impossible dreams and images of tomorrow.

Here are some unusual, outstanding Los Angeles lobbies to beguile, intrigue and impress:

The Ritz-Carlton Huntington Hotel, 1401 S. Oak Knoll Ave., Pasadena .

Built by a retired Civil War general in 1906, and later expanded by Henry Huntington of Pacific Red Car fame, the 383-room Ritz-Carlton Huntington once was home away from home for turn-of-the-century religious and political leaders, educators, royalty, sports figures and entertainers who were visiting Los Angeles.

The hotel’s vine-covered Moorish facade conceals a timeless opulence inside. Present and past mingle in the lobby and hallways, decorated with Oriental carpets, 18th- and 19th-Century portraiture, and priceless objets d’art. Freshly cut flowers adorn antique tabletops. Marbled hallways reverberate with classical etudes from an unseen piano.

While here, visit the hotel’s grand ballroom, which boasts two leaded crystal Viennese chandeliers from 1836. Order tea service in the hotel’s darkly wooded lounge, The Bar. Sink into one of its overstuffed sofas before a wood-burning marbled fireplace and enjoy a piano sonata or two, before returning home to 1992.

The Biltmore, 506 S. Grand Ave., Los Angeles .

During the 1920s, the “Host of the Coast’s” Ionic-columned entrance way welcomed more visiting dignitaries, royalty, movie stars, and theater impresarios than any other hotel west of Chicago. Los Angeles’ smart set turned out for its afternoon teas and weekly fashion shows featuring the latest in furs, satin and crystal beading.

The Biltmore remains a precious jewel in the downtown district, boasting 1,000 rooms and one million square feet of sumptuous churrigueresque splendor. Its grand two-story cross gallery, “Rendezvous Court,” features an elaborate Spanish ceiling painted in soft tones of gold, green and black. German chandeliers dangle above a bubbling marble fountain surrounded by potted palms. A double stairway leads to an elaborate Spanish Renaissance balcony, its archway flanked by twisted columns of grape leaves.

Be sure to visit the hotel’s 350-foot-long Galeria, an “internal street” featuring acres of marble, plush carpeting, and an elaborate vaulted ceiling of hand-painted friezes and roundels by Italian artist Giovanni Smeraldi, who also created works for several Vatican palaces and the White House.

Bradbury Building, 304 S. Broadway, Los Angeles . By appointment only: (213) 626-1893.

“One of the most thrilling spaces on the North American continent,” writes architect Charles Moore about the Bradbury Building’s interior.

This unusual office building, built in 1893 by a 32-year-old draftsman who had no formal architectural training, is a visual symphony of light, delicate metalwork and masonry.

Beyond its demure Italian Renaissance facade lies an other-worldly atrium bathed in warm ocher. Sunlight falls five stories onto Mexican tiled floors, rose-colored Italian marble wall bases, wrought-iron railings, and Oz-like yellow-glazed brick walls. Two open-cage hydraulic elevators (which appeared in the film “Blade Runner”) levitate grandly, passing banks of offices facing an open court area. The building’s cast-iron stairway features Belgian marble steps, imported by sailing ships in the 1890s.

The building also contains the nation’s first mail chute, and is a designated National Historic Landmark, one of only four such structures in Los Angeles.

The Fine Arts Building, 811 W. 7th St., Los Angeles .

This Romanesque-style building was created as a haven for artisans and craftsmen in the 1920s. Its lobby--an ornate Medieval-like exhibition hall--was the perfect setting for artists to display their wares.

Inside the massive bronze doors lies a long-ago world of mystical enchantment. The 3,000-square-foot cathedral-like space is discreetly lit by 15 chandeliers and several starburst-shaped light fixtures. Flags hang proudly from the walls. Immense terra-cotta figures stare down at visitors from wall perches. A tiled fountain bubbles water nearby.

Brightly colored artists’ wares are displayed in several 17-foot tall bronze-and-glass showcases along the wall, set between mosaic and terra-cotta arches that rise to meet the lobby’s beamed ceiling.

Be sure to see the splendid Medieval vista from the lobby’s second-story balcony. And enjoy a ride in one of the building’s carved-oak elevators on the way up.

Wiltern Theatre, 3790 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles.

In 1931, what was then known as the Warner Western Theatre opened its doors to tuxedoed crowds and bevies of celebrities. The building was a startling celebration of Art Deco Zigzag Moderne. Behind its luminous blue-green facade lay a tropical paradise awash in brilliant greens and radiant oranges.

Sadly, during the late ‘70s, the theater fell into disrepair. But, as in a silent movie, it was saved just-in-time from the wrecker’s ball by a hero/real estate developer. Today, the Wiltern has been restored to its former opulence and proudly welcomes visitors.

The candy-colored lobby is awash in stylized Egyptian columns, dazzling tiled fountains, exotic bas-reliefs, hand-painted ceiling murals and frosty chandeliers that seem to hover like spaceships above a flowery carpet. Beneath a sparkling ceiling mural of the solar system, a green marble bar awaits patrons. A sweeping double staircase leads theatergoers to an elaborate mezzanine.

Wildly dancing murals and floral motifs are everywhere. But the piece de resistance lies inside the 2,300-seat auditorium, where a huge gold and silver sunburst explodes from a fiery orange ceiling and an organ (the second largest in the world) intones melodies from 60 years ago.

Architectural historian David Gebhard calls the Wiltern “one of Los Angeles’ most outstanding public interiors.”

Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco, 950 S. Grand Ave., Los Angeles .

Sleek. Modernistic. Dynamic. Sensual. These adjectives aren’t used often to describe bank architecture, but this bank is unusual in this, and many other respects.

The branch on Grand Avenue is the largest of 25 branches in the U.S. Federal Reserve system. Within its walls, 4 million checks are processed daily; 1 billion pieces of currency are paid out each year; and $6 billion in crisp green bills lies stacked on pallets in its well-protected vault.

A cavernous three-story skylit atrium punctuated by gleaming black marble pillars houses the Reserve’s public banking lobby. Here, tellers at sleek bulletproof glass stations sell government securities, savings bonds and Treasury bills to the public.

At the south end of the marble and granite lobby is “World of Economics,” a permanent exhibit featuring murals, photographs and interactive computer games illustrating money supply management, economic growth and government policy for controlling economic fluctuation.

And who says buying savings bonds can’t be exciting?

Comprehensive Cancer Center, 8700 Beverly Blvd., Los Angeles. By appointment only: (310) 855-8030.

In 1983, nephrologist Bernard Salick learned that his 6-year-old daughter had cancer. Unable to find a 24-hour treatment center and realizing such a facility would greatly benefit cancer patients like her, Salick laid plans for a Comprehensive Cancer Center that would offer state of the art care every day, every hour.

The center takes up 53,000 square feet of Cedars-Sinai Medical Center’s Beverly Boulevard entrance. Its exterior is clad in pale Indian sandstone. A narrow granite and tile entrance way leads visitors to a solitary elevator, which travels down two floors to a sprawling, light-filled subterranean atrium.

The space is Spartan, powerful, yet surprisingly soothing. Vivid artwork, photographs and children’s displays are discreetly placed about the room. Sound is muted. Square-punched windows and a curved skylit ceiling yield ample visions of sky. Nothing is hidden; all seems ordered and reassuring.

Perhaps the 24-foot tall Play Sculpture best expresses Bernard Salick’s dream. At first, the piece is frightening: a huge “machine” rising from the ground, swinging its great arms asunder. But the metallic monster is unquestionably capable; its strong, powerful flank can do battle against--and destroy--even the most virulent of foes it encounters.

Look up. The machine is already winning its battle. At the top of its form stands a tree. Strong. Flourishing. And still very much alive--like Salick’s daughter, who, nearly 10 years later, is cancer-free.