Next L.A. / A Look at issues, people and ideas helping to shape the emerging metropolis : The Boardwalk: A Funky 90 : Plans for a $7-million make-over spark a debate over the future character of the famous beach. It opened 90 years ago today.

In the early 1900s, Venice founder Abbot Kinney saw the potential for a new city of Old World charm amid the area’s coastal dunes and wetlands. With his own finances, the wily entrepreneur took 19 months to build “Venice of America,” a resort community of canals and gondolas, pavilions and cafes. An entertainment complex of mind-boggling rides, operas, electric trams, Hindu fakirs, sword swallowers and carny concessions soon followed.

“Imagine,” said 83-year-old Al Arnold, who has lived in the same Venice house near the oceanfront for 77 years. “When you got to the beach, you found spectacular rides--heart-stoppers--dance halls, a gigantic indoor saltwater plunge, two roller coasters, fun houses. It was a regular circus.”

The stunning creation--which opened 90 years ago today--transformed an idle backwater along the Pacific Ocean into one of the nation’s largest and earliest entertainment playgrounds--a precursor to Disneyland. The circus set the tone for a community that has thrived by embracing all creeds and attitudes, celebrated the sublime and worshiped the ridiculous--both of which can be found on its famed Ocean Front Walk, one of the Southland’s most popular tourist destinations.

Yet the boardwalk, enduring symbol of California beach living that it is, has been deteriorating. The asphalt is cracking, the pagodas are peeling. The walk has gotten a reputation for pickpockets and drug dealers as much as for bikini-clad roller-skaters. And the roller-skaters themselves are in a turf war with the bicyclists over control of the bicycle path that runs along the beachfront.

A lingering economic downtown has heightened tension between oceanfront merchants and the unlicensed vendors and street performers that dot the popular locale. And rival attractions, such as Universal CityWalk and the nearby Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica, have posed intense competition.

Against this backdrop, the community is debating plans for a $7-million make-over of the oceanfront walkway.

Some might see it as a simple public construction project. But to many in Venice, which has struggled in recent years with a fierce gang war and lost a battle to keep its ailing ducks, the fate of the boardwalk symbolizes a chance to shape the future character of the town. Will it go the way of upscale malls, or retain its spunky, funky independence?

Where else, after all, would so many residents scoff at repaving with yuppie brick?

Much of the town’s initial growth took place during its brief 14-year cityhood, before the city of Los Angeles annexed the community in 1925. Since then, most of the expansion in Venice has been almost happenstance.

For nine decades, waves of builders, hustlers, dreamers, vaudevillians, poets and promoters have washed through the place, attracted by the legacy of acceptance created by the town’s circus-like beginnings: the beatniks in the ‘50s, hippies in the ‘60s and ‘70s and New Age devotees today.

But three years ago, Venice was caught by surprise when the Los Angeles rioting reached within the town, resulting in several fire-bombings. Then, in the fall of 1993, rival gangs declared war on one another in the Oakwood section of Venice. In the ensuing nine months, 17 people were killed and 55 wounded, most of them uninvolved bystanders, until a truce was declared. Drug dealing has moved not only onto the boardwalk but into some residential enclaves such as Oakwood.

Politics are usually--and unusually--raucous. In June, 1993, animal lovers tried to blockade the canals when state wildlife officials decided to capture the ducks that made their homes there. The state had decided to kill the ducks, which were infected with a deadly virus. The state won that round.

Debate about the boardwalk’s rebirth has been equally spirited.

One community group, led by some boardwalk merchants, supports a major overhaul loaded with nostalgic charm: brick paving, antique lighting and designated areas for street entertainers.

“There’s a difference between funky and grimy,” said Mark Ryavec, executive director of the Venice Boardwalk Assn., a group representing the area’s merchants. “We want to keep the funky carnival atmosphere but would like to lose the grunge and provide a context for some of the historical structures in the area.”

Another faction representing artists and performers fear that such a make-over might squelch the street’s creative free-wheeling spirit, turning it into an upscale pedestrian mall.

Despite months of fierce community disputes, a consensus plan has finally begun to emerge: Improve the beach area but preserve the creative atmosphere and wacky street entertainment that has made it a must-see for tourists.

Residents are being consulted in a series of community workshops, the first of which took place on Venice Beach last month in the spray paint-splashed picnic area known as the Graffiti Pit. There, consultant RRM Design Group of San Luis Obispo polled residents on numerous issues. The renovation would be financed by park bond funds approved by Los Angeles city voters in 1992.

In true Venice style, some residents wanted “helicopter-free zones” and free hot dogs as part of the boardwalk improvements.

Most of those in attendance were against “gentrification,” an indirect slap at the suggestions to resurface the boardwalk with bricks.

Some wanted an additional path along the beach, to extend all the way to the marina, that would separate the bicyclists and in-line skaters from each other. Maintaining the curves in the existing bike route was favored to keep speeds low.

Many at the hearing urged more public art displays--and strongly opposed restricting street artists and entertainers to designated areas.

“Such rules would inhibit the flexibility of many performers by locking them in a pocket,” said Jerry Rubin, a community activist. “Venice is not a mall.”

Special correspondent Thomas Pleasure contributed to this story.

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Venice Inside Out People Population: 40,040 Households: 19,279 Average household size: 2.07 Median age: 33.6 *

White: 64% Black: 8% Asian: 3% Latino: Asian: 3% Other: 1% *

Money and Work Median household income: $35,418 Median home value: $360,200 Employed workers (16 and older): 25,923 Self-employed: 3,716 Car-poolers: 2,426 Walk to work: 924 Bicycle to work: 523 Subway rides: 6 *

Average Yearly Household Expenditures Sources: Claritas Inc. Household expenses are averages for 1994. All other figures are for 1990. Percentages have been rounded to the nearest whole number.*

THE MORE THINGS CHANGE: You call beach roller-skating and alternative music new? Consider this: Thirty years ago, the Los Angeles City Council passed an “anti-bongo” ordinance, which means beach-loving beatniks in Venice had to find another place to watch the sunset.

And long before that--in 1917, when ‘blades were something that went on the handle of a knife--Venice became the headquarters for the Pacific Roller-Skating Assn.

BEACH SARDINES: Something to keep in mind if you’re heading to the beach today: More than 150,000 people visit Venice Beach on a typical weekend summer day. That works out to more than 7 million a year.

FARMING, VENICE-STYLE: A top attraction in 1918 was an alligator and crocodile farm, housing about 30 reptiles, at the corner of Ocean Front Walk and Windward. A local performer, Princess Cleo, used to perform tricks with the beasts until one turned on her during an act. About a dozen men had to beat the crocodile with iron crow bars for several moments, before the princess was freed. Soon after, and dozens of stitches later, the “farm” was shut down.

VENICE AND SARAH: When renowned international actress Sarah Bernhardt starred in “Camille” at the Venice Pier auditorium in 1906, impresario Abbot Kinney did everything to please her. When Bernhardt expressed a wish to cast for smelt from her dressing room window, Kinney hired local boys to swim out and hook fish on her line. Always fond of Venice, Bernhardt returned for a visit in 1915. One evening after a roller coaster ride, she asked her chauffeur to drive to the end of Washington Boulevard for a look at the sunset. On the way, the car crashed and Bernhardt seriously injured her knee. Gangrene set in and her leg had to be amputated at the hip. Bernhardt later died from complications of the operation in 1923.