JetSetModernist

BELL LABS Holmdel NJ                                              Eero Saarinen 1959

In my former life as a corporate tool, I had the unique pleasure of working on a consulting project with Lucent, then headquartered in a remarkable corporate campus at what had previously been known as the Bell Laboratories division of the Bell Telephone Company, then AT&T, and most recently as Alcatel-Lucent. Whatever it was called, it served for forty-four years as a state-of-the-art research laboratory spawning several Nobel Prize winners and countless advances in telecommunications.

Built between 1959 and 1962, it was one of the last projects by the revolutionary architect of his day, Eero Saarinen (1910-1961), an early Gehry, Hadid or Calatrava better known for his remarkable TWA Terminal at New York’s JFK Airport and the Gateway Arch in St. Louis among other timeless masterpieces.

I can tell you from first-hand experience, arriving at the Holmdel campus was an experience I looked forward to on every visit. One entered the 472 acre complex on a country-like road winding through acres of manicured lawns before straightening out, preparing one for the surreal sight ahead. There, on the horizon, like a mirage as you approached, rose a monolith of a building more massive than you could ever imagine. Its perfect symmetry surrounded by impeccably maintained grounds with reflecting pools and fountains reminded me of a modernist Versailles as re-imagined by Mies Van der Rohe. Its black mirrored curtain-wall exterior seemed to go on forever in both directions with little detail to provide a sense of scale. And just when you thought you were imagining it to be larger than it could have been, you entered a space so much larger it took your breath away.

I must say that as awe-struck as I was by the building at every visit, the enormous spaces and endless vistas - whether of the grounds outside or of the endless atriums indoors - did have the odd effect of reducing one to feeling like an insignificant spec - a cog in a corporate machine. In odd contrast to the “form-follows-function” mantra of modernism, employees in this design-first edifice were bound by a rigid set of rules that forbade moving chairs from one room to another for fear they might upset the balance and orderliness of the perfect design. We inhabitants were reduced to cowering to this building’s overwhelming power.

Closed and sold-off by Alcatel-Lucent in 2006, the complex was slated for demolition to make room for luxury estate homes and a golf course until local preservationists - and former owner Alcatel-Lucent - came to the rescue and convinced the local townsfolk that it was worth saving. A series of charrettes in recent years are honing-in on adapting the facility to a university, a recreational complex, or a mixed-use development with loft-style housing, offices and retail. If only they could un-tether it and let it float out to space, it would make a perfect space-station right out of any science fiction movie.

WEST LOS ANGELES COURTHOUSE SQUARE Los Angeles CA    Albert Criz 1960

Anyone unfortunate enough to have to visit the West Los Angeles courthouse, as I recently did to resolve a small matter involving a backlog of unpaid parking tickets, can at least look forward to taking care of their business, no matter how unpleasant, in the groovy environs of the West Los Angeles Courthouse Square, built in 1960 and designed by little-known (if remembered at all) architect Albert Criz.

A quick search of the AIA archives reveals that this unsung genius was born in 1907 in the American architectural mecca of Chicago and hung out his shingle in 1946 at 9806 Wilshire Boulevard in Beverly Hills. His spartan biography does include among his principle works the Atascadero State Hospital in collaboration with star architect Paul R. Williams, and a vague reference to a “city administration building” - perhaps referring to this one. His passing was recorded in 1995.

The buildings have aged well, despite obvious municipal budget austerity. They appear to be in generally original condition with only the patina of age burnishing their toothy grills like a coating of plaque ready to be whisked away with a brisk brushing. Even if you’ve managed to stay a few steps ahead of the law, these buildings are worth a special trip. Their address is listed as 1633 Purdue Avenue but you’ll find these buildings tucked behind the tired McMod public library at 11360 Santa Monica Boulevard. Bring change for the meters, or risk returning under far less pleasant circumstances.

ROBINSONS-MAY Beverly Hills CA                     Luckman & Pereira 1950       

It is often said that every black cloud has a silver lining. And there have been fewer black clouds than the current worldwide economic recession. But if there is a silver lining today, it is the survival of the remarkable Robinsons-May department store in Beverly Hills, California.

During the post-war suburban expansion of Los Angeles westward from downtown in the early 1950s, the Robinson’s department store decided to open an outpost in Beverly Hills. They enlisted the best design talents from the worlds of architecture and movie-set design — lead architects were the prolific team of Charles Luckman and William Pereira (New York City’s Lever House, LAX Theme Building, CBS Television City, LA County Museum of Art, San Franciso’s Transamerica Tower and more) with interiors by Raymond Loewy (Shell, Nabisco and Lucky Strike logos, Studebakers, locomotives, the Greyhound Bus and more) and landscaping by “Gone With The Wind” set designers Florence Yoch and Lucile Council.

Opening in 1952, Robinsons’ 200,000 square feet of marble and glass on 8 acres at the intersection of Wilshire and Santa Monica Boulevards was immediately lauded by the press as a monument to “striking architecture and sophisticated smartness” and it thrived, largely unchanged, for the next 50 years modifying only its name after merging with the May department store chain.

But the evolution of retailing and the demise of the big department store is well chronicled, and Robinson’s-May finally shuttered its doors in 2006. In the overheated real estate market of the times, the site had sold previously to New Pacific Realty for $33.5 million who flipped it three years later for a cool $500 million to the London-based real estate development firm of Candy & Candy with financing from the Kaupthing HF Bank of Iceland (who was heavily invested in U.S. default swaps).

The Candy brothers, with the aid of visionary architect Richard Meier (L.A.’s Getty Research Institute, countless museums and Malibu beach mansions), somehow came to the conclusion that what Beverly Hills really needed two blocks away from the overdeveloped Wilshire Corridor, where luxury condos sold at steep discounts even in the best of times, was yet another cluster of high-rise towers in yet another over-sized mixed-use development shoe-horned into one of the world’s most congested parcels where traffic moves at a snail’s pace through one of the world’s busiest intersections, if it moves at all.

The site was barricaded with murals depicting a modern-day Garden of Eden (or Tower of Babel, depending on your point of view) and demolition equipment was hauled to the site. But then, as if by divine miracle, the crash of 2008 hit, the real estate market collapsed (taking the Icelandic economy and Kaupthing with it), and work stopped before it ever began. In 2010, Candy & Candy defaulted on their loans and lost the property in a foreclosure auction for $148 million to a Hong Kong private equity firm with ties to the Beverly Hills Hotel. They announced plans to proceed with the Meier plan, but 18 months later, nary a brick has been disturbed. 

It is hoped that the new owners will come to their senses and with vision, taste, and good sense, will redevelop the property in a way that preserves the existing structure. I can envision a tower - or even two - on the adjacent parking lot or even piercing and rising from the low-slung building turning it into a pedestal base. But to lose this groovy modernist gem in the center of town would be a tragedy.

Is Classicism the New Modernism?                                             1980s-2000s

This is a blog about modernism because, well, I like modernism. But that’s not to the exclusion of other architectural styles. To be a fan of any one style, you have to have some knowledge of other styles and their history in order to appreciate their context.

Ultimately, I’m a fan of whatever is appropriate for the site - be it traditional, modern or something else. The Louvre is perfect for Paris. The Taj Mahal is magnificent in India. And nothing could beat the Forbidden City in Beijing. But would you build Versailles in Topeka? How about Beverly Hills? 

Modernism certainly isn’t for everyone. It is an acquired taste that, well, requires a rather refined, more sophisticated design sensibility — as any reader of this blog would undoubtedly (and humbly!) agree.

But in the early 20th century, modernism was an emerging, radical new style that was embraced by a few and roundly rejected by the many. As modernism spread from Europe to the west coast of America, it was adapted, modified, and evolved into a sub-style all its own dubbed “California Modernism”.

We now may be witnessing the birth of a new style - one that, like modernism, originated overseas and was transmogrified by its practitioners half a world away. Like modernism, it is not without controversy. And like modernism, its detractors far outnumber its fans. But passionate fans exist and it would not be proliferating and thriving without vibrant demand.

Like any new trend, it raises an interesting question — who defines ‘good taste’? Some would argue that it is established by the test of time - but that argument is not without its flaws as many would agree that not everything old is necessarily good. Others would argue that taste is set by the masses - by what people want - by what the market demands. If this is the case, then what we’re seeing today is an entirely new style that may someday be another benchmark of ‘good taste’.

As with every new design and architectural style, there is a bit of geopolitics involved in its inception. Modernism emerged from the ashes of two world wars and was carried forward by economic conditions and materials shortages unique to its time. Likewise, the downfall of the Shah in the 1970s sparked a mass exodus of wealthy Iranians to the United States. One community in particular where they settled was Beverly Hills. And this moneyed class bought or built new homes upon which they exercised their personal style - a style no less authentic or legitimate than any other.

Iran has a long and proud history with a distinctive architecture that is a blend of home-grown ancient Persia with a mix of eighteenth-century France, a period of history that captured the imagination of a developing Iran. This resulted in columns influenced by Persopoles together with ornate decorations and iron-work reminiscent of Versailles. The end result is an architectural style unique to Iran that also influenced architecture in neighboring Iraq and, to some extent, throughout the middle east.

But when this Iranian diaspora blended their style with that of the United States and, more specifically, Beverly Hills, they invented something not seen anywhere else in the world - Iran included. For lack of a better term, it has been dubbed the “Persian Palace” - a term at first considered derogatory but which has now been embraced by the Iranian community of Beverly Hills and even promoted by a Los Angeles Times Sunday magazine cover story.

Just as the modernist movement was influenced by Southern California to result in what is now known worldwide as “California Modernism”, “Persian Palaces” are beginning to become celebrated by some for their unique style. Their place in history will be determined twenty, thirty, fifty years from now. By then, perhaps the Los Angeles Conservancy will be rallying to their defense against the wrecking ball. Or maybe not.