May 24, 1992

ALLURING ENTRANCES PITCH 'COMMUNITY"

NAFTALI BENDAVID AND PAMELA FERDINAND Herald Staff
Writers

Waterfalls tumble over artificial boulders. A hand-crafted wooden footbridge, imported from Massachusetts, arcs over a brook. Exotic plants explode in passionate color. A pink gatehouse sports a cupola and red granite trim from Italy.

The entranceway to Coral Springs' newest and plushest development, The Isles, evokes Shangri-La. It cost $1 million. And the houses aren't even built yet.

But people are coming, to The Isles and South Florida's other suburban communities. And in an effort to instantly re- create the warmth and identity of old city neighborhoods left behind, developers are building increasingly elaborate, and expensive, entranceways.

"They're a requirement now," said Miami landscape architect Raymond Jungles. "Everyone's trying to do a bigger wall, a bigger waterfall. They're glorified tombstones, some of these things."

More often than not, developers will erect an entire
entrance complex -- complete with gateway, guardhouse, waterfalls, royal palms, shrubs, blossoms, soft lights and more -- at a cost of $250,000 to $400,000, before the first house is built.

"It's your first impression of a subdivision, and you want it to look good," said Linda Frank, who lives in the Coral Springs Pine Ridge development. "It really bothers me when it's not kept up."

Some question whether they're worth all the money.

"A lot of them are mostly glitz," said Rolando Llanes, architecture professor at the University of Miami. "The developers are spending much more money on those entry features than on anything else. The ducks and ponds you only see in the entry feature, not inside."

When Americans first moved to cities, they formed neighborhoods with distinct textures. Urban streets were flavored by ethnicity or distinctive architecture, a corner bar or a steepled church.

Then came the suburban explosion. An impressive entrance was one way to lend character to the bland new communities that sprang up on urban fringes.

"Things like entrance features are ways of trying to put some personal touches on your community, trying to build the old community where people walked and talked on front porches," said Paul George, a South Florida historian.

At suburban communities such as Inverrary in Lauderhill, the entrance is a major landmark. When 17-year resident Selig Marko, 76, gives friends directions to his condo, he directs them through the most elaborate gateway.

"I make sure they enter at Oakland Park Boulevard, so they can be as impressed with the waterfall as I am," Marko said.

Driving into the complex, he often sees beautiful models and glowing newlyweds posing for photographers, as water splashes over vines and carved rocks in the background.

Some entrances have almost become tourist attractions. Passersby will stop and gawk at The Isles' entryway, whose $1 million cost includes a long wall. Fund-raisers from the American Cancer Society recently asked to bring a walk-a-thon through Tamarac's Woodmont subdivision.

"All these entities have different floral arrangements, all have different things to see," said Tamarac Council Member Norman Abramowitz. "It's just the general ambience of the things."

Gateways also help residents feel they're part of a privileged club, one that keeps undesirables out.

Bordered on the west by a lake and shooting geyser, the road leading into Jacaranda at Central Park begins with a burst of Phoenix reclinata, ficus, black olive, jacaranda trees and dark green liriope. On the east, water pours gently over a wall of rocks into a sparkling pool below.

By early evening, the hypnotic rhythm of rushing water and the footsteps of strolling couples are the only sounds in this Plantation community of low-slung beige houses with brown tiles and circular byways.

That's the way Dean Zimmerman, a 33-year-old audio engineer, likes it.

"The entrance really is important because when you come back here, you're away from the outside hustle and bustle of a city day," Zimmerman said.

More than instilling a sense of community or security, the
entrance defines an area where Zimmerman feels secure in the knowledge that his neighbors are people like him.

"I think it has to do with the income bracket," he said. "They have the same type of income, the same kind of values. People tend to react the same way and want to take care of their property in the same manner."

Guardhouses help to give an illusion of exclusivity and security, even when there's no guard stationed inside.

Along suburban roadways, entranceways are often elaborate billboards, a quick way for a developer to tell potential home buyers whizzing by that a subdivision is elegant, lush and comfortable.

Coral Ridge Properties, developer of The Isles, even devotes part of its glossy promotion brochure to the entranceway: "The graceful entrance drive passes flowing aquatic accents, tropical greenery and culminates at an elegant gatehouse."

In the past, the marketing was more crude. Sometimes, after using a fancy entranceway to sell homes, a developer would demolish it. The entrance would often be replaced by a convenience store or filling station.

Entranceway marketing still works, because of people such as Orlando King, 28, and Antoinette Forbes, 25, New Jerseyites looking for a home in South Florida.

If it weren't for elaborate entrances, King and Forbes might never find one. Driving around West Broward, they go inside only the communities that look good outside.

"I was very impressed," King said, commenting on the pink- and-white sculpted concrete entrance to the Residences of Sawgrass Mills. "It kind of whets your appetite for what's inside."

From their tour, King remembers the softly splashing fountains and lush landscaping of a community called Fountain Springs in Plantation. But he can't even remember the names of developments fronted by uninviting entrances.

"Those were the ones we didn't even want to take the time to go in and see," King said.

Some say entry mania has gone too far. "One of the problems with America is that everyone is grabbing and shouting for attention," said Jungles, the architect. "In the commercial corridors it's Burger King, Wendy's, McDonald's. It's the same thing in residential areas now."

Kings Point, a giant Lennar Corp. development expected to eventually house one in four Tamarac residents, recently overhauled the 3-D welcome mats at its entrance, adding 15-foot- high terraced walls, complete with waterfalls, greenery and flowers.

"I heard some people say they liked it better before," said Kings Point resident Abe Garr. " 'This looks more like a mausoleum,' that's what I heard."

Herald staff writer Spencer Hsu contributed to this report.