Bemoan, Bemoan Part 2

(See Bemoan, Bemoan Part 1, 6/27/2009)

Frustration, backpacking through the urban thorn, flag bearing for architectural preservation. So many buildings altered in ways I find deplorable.

Yet I hate these notions: the superior eye, the fecundity of artists--the elites, raised in a monastery of beautiful things, cultivating greater sensitivities.

Typically, I try to recognize competing cultural mandates, and the by-products of resourcelessness.  Still my non-judgemental cover bloweth, mainly to vociferate: 'how could one think X is preferable to Y'?

Can people really not see the difference(s)?  The envelope 

please......and the answer is...YES and NO.  People can see the difference, and the difference is of little value.   Utility is paramount.  

House as utility, as vessel.  How many can it shelter, bathe and feed?    

Bemoan, Bemoan Part 1

The topic to which I'm probably most continuously drawn (no doubt to the consternation of my forgiving readers), are those forces occasioning alterations in the housing stock of inner core neighborhoods.

Cultural signifiers, the makeover phenomenon, and the ego-imprimatur impulse have all been referenced, sociology, economics, cultural transmission, and memetics, as well.

I've largely resisted imprecations, and a fruitless, villainizing impulse.  Still, I'm hard-pressed to understand how anyone, anywhere, for whatever reason, would think to transform, for example, image top to image middle.

Avoid opining about aesthetics, I'm often cautioned, matters of taste are dissevering, unfixed,  and coupled with elitism.   Does taste play a role, is there such thing as "good taste" or is it all "different taste"?

Turtles

Sometimes when houses of wood are stuccoed, features above the roofline escape cement internment.

Are these mostly small dormers overlooked (since they are seldom accosted by changes of fenestration), or might their exclusion be a cost savings move?  Is 'The Dormer' beneath notice or viewed benignly?  

Like the head of a turtle emerging from its cartilaginous shell, the tactile difference is conspicuous, even when masked by common color, like this example wherein the beta gable has been left unmolested, er, shingled.

Whilst I tend to get a bit peppery when confronted by detail diminishing alterations, perhaps I should be grateful for these vestiges, restoration road maps of a sort, Sirens for the aesthete.

Adaptive Abuse/Facade-ectomy (Part 1)

Building Reuse or Adaptive Reuse is the process of adapting buildings to new primary uses whilst retaining historic or significant features. Valued for its economic, social, and environmental advantages, examples include Santa Monica's Bergamot Station (train yard turned art galleries), and downtown's many loft conversions. Previously, I featured a spectacular Shingle Style house in Highland Park, the Ziegler Estate, reborn as La Casita Verde, a day care and pre-school (see Shingle Style 7/26/2008 ).

Adaptive reuse can help preserve buildings, and maintain a valued heritage; however, not all re-purposing exhibits sympathetic handling. Often structures are altered irreversibly and in uncomprehending fashion. Whereas the Ziegler Estate survives mostly intact, two other Shingle Style gems have been unforgivingly converted into restaurants. The Davis house (built in 1897) hosts a generally mediocre eatery, the 2-9 Cafe, near USC (top image); while, La Parilla in Westlake mars a magnificent form.

The most controversial practice in preservation however, is the facade-ectomy.

(To be continued)

May I Introduce Oxford Square

United Neighborhoods Neighborhood Council (UNNC) banners rose recently, along the avenues and boulevards that bound many West Adams neighborhoods. A neighborhood name appears against a field of red-orange above the UNNC icon, a broad, sheltering tree.

Elsewhere the fledgling Oxford Square-rs unveiled bold signs, a neighborhood coat of arms, helping define their house beautiful district North of Victoria Circle and South of Windsor Village. (North of Pico, South of Olympic, West of Crenshaw.)

Place naming and recognition can help foster a sense of community, often the basis for collective action, even social participation. Bravo Oxford Square!

Defining a District

"Have you seen the new signs," asked the Harvard Heights mob challengingly.
I hadn't, and I tried to redirect, "No, but I sure like what Adams-Normandie did."
The H.H.-ers, young and brimming with Obama-made confidence were in no mood, "cut the crap Janeiro--pay your respects."

Jeez, I intoned, don't they realize I spend days shuffling from one historic district to the next, past all manner of markers and Charles Rennie Mackintosh inspired displays?

Historic districts are typically areas of contiguous, concentrated cultural resource. Distinct signage can often help advertise and inform, while reinforcing ownership and an idea of place.

The most "successful" districts are often compact, aided by distinctive geographic features or barriers that interrupt continuity, like a small hill (Melrose Hill, Angelino Heights) or an uncharacteristic grid (Victoria Park, Alvarado Terrace). The Harvard Heights neighborhood boasts some of those attributes, ringed by high traffic streets, and bordered on the East by a cemetery, a large private school campus and the city's most important Greek Orthodox church.

The new signs are playful, yet meaningful, without resorting to tired imagery or cliche font. Bravo!

Separated at Built

Located on Vermont Boulevard, and once moved to accommodate the construction of the neighboring Ralph's supermarket, this Eclectic, Dutch-Romanesque with its sprightly paint job, arched windows and daring trim has long been an eye-catcher along a mostly commercial stretch.

I've written previously about copy cats and slight variations, house plan books and the preservation value of duplicates (see Nightwalking Part 2/1620 Oak 6-26-2007), but seldom is there a match for something so unique.

The book end (albeit with the entry flipped) resides a mile away near Jefferson & Grand. Same passionate symmetry, same fleur-de-lis details (note the bands above and below the second story course), a remarkable survivor similarly encroached by non-residential uses.

Not So Smart Buildings (Part 1)?

Many have railed against the "dumbing-down" of America. In popular versions of the argument, educational reform, narrow casting, and poppycock mysticism are faulted, while the built environment garners little mention. Yet we increasingly occupy, emulate, and sanction buildings with little complexity or singularity, and our renovation culture often obliterates delicacy and nuance. But are those buildings and tendencies "dumb-ing," or rather minimal and pragmatic, a justified expression of time and place? Am I equating simplicity with stupidity, and is this the snotty bias of my inner critic?

For starters, great, form challenging, expressive works are still executed (such as Gehry's Disney Hall). A few of the ultra wealthy commission residences of great ambition, and here and there, low-budget whimsies charm (see the Swiss Cheese apartments). Nor is this an attack on the International Style and the expulsion of detail. But in my opinion, the track house de jour among others is a sorry hand me down from yesteryear's creative clutch.

The defenders of the neo-bland will cite the democratization of building (or some such claprap), the cost impracticality of quality materials and specialized labor, as well as different programming demands (like the attached garage).

Certainly the lens of time better allows us to assess buildings. That historical diaphragm may now enable us to view less prejudicially the 1970's: the skyscrapingest skyscrapers, late brutalist works, the shed aesthetic, dingbats; and, recognize lots of wonderful stuff....and lots of dreck. Lots of dreck that we're likely stuck with, littering our sightlines, thoroughly un enlivening architecture (that sadly often displaced more idiosyncratic structures), like blank canvases at a gallery. And things didn't get better in the 1980's, or '90's.

Maybe I'm still recovering from grad school at CalArts (in Valencia), surrounded by miles of neo Mediterranean eclectics, monuments to mass building efficiencies, and developer profit rather than design thoughtfulness, with elements crudely applied--not as post-modern kitsch, or even deliberately false historicism; but, rather as a degenerate set of mannerisms.

End of Part One

The Thin Grey Line

Seldom are architectural alterations or improvements comprehensively chronicled. Building and safety permits may document some changes, but mostly the house archaeologist is forced to analyze style clues and discontinuities.

Concrete may be the great exception amongst materials. Driveways, pads, and patios, steps, curbs and porches, even foundations sometimes feature elucidating inscriptions. Many are likely the work of untamed youth, but other imprints are clearly for the record, almost formal.

Because projects are often conjunctive, these inscriptions can help pinpoint other ventures. A backyard pad, for example, might coincide with the installation of french doors. A "wet patch," or a section of concrete repair, might accompany plumbing work. A garage needs a driveway.

The Winchester Mystery Hovel

I look at 15 - 30 houses a week on average. Most with buyers, some on caravans or other opens, a few alone. What I'm seeing depends largely on my stable of buyers, their preferred neighborhoods, price ranges, and features.

I don't often take pictures unless I'm "previewing", or for later review. But occasionally, I record oddities, exceptional features, weird shit.

At least twice a year, I encounter a residence with a chain of additions, each linked to a next; often, cottages distended to fill deep lots, sometimes consuming formerly detached garages.

A few of these rambling wrecks appear to have been built of surplus building materials. As rooflines are butted or foundations joined, ceiling heights change, and some spaces appear sunken as raised foundations drop to slabs. Exterior doors lead to closed spaces, windows act as pass-thrus.

(Please note, the image to the left is not a camera reverse of image one as evidenced by the window position, this despite the checkered floor, another arch and sliding door.)

Attic conversions and even basement digouts occur too, but far less often, likely because their engineering is more daunting and expensive.

Neo Craftsman

I've been a tad leery of new housing built in the Craftsman style. New-builds should say something about their time, I argued, not just ape the time honored. However a great many styles, Tudor, Italianate, Chateauesqe, are revival styles, and their periodic re-engagements, re-popularizations, or continuities are germane and revealing.

What do I expect?! Architectural paradigm shifts are uncommon, relying on the shared destination of technology, economics, and socio-politics, a hugely influential practitioner (like a Louis Sullivan or an H.H. Richardson), and an international cultural/political event (like the World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago or World War II). (Attention true modernists, a perfect storm is centered in Dubai and Beijing.)

Maybe it's a good thing the Craftsman/Shingle/Prairie lexicon persists, and enjoys periodic spasms of popularity. Perhaps this archetype is destined for that timeless, perennial category which includes Spanish/Mediterranean, and Colonial. Maybe it also helps make the style less alien, more palatable to the uninitiated, those most likely to misguidedly alter and abuse fine period examples.

Can't Judge A Book

Really?

Typically this sign adorns uncomely, or plain looking residences. A compensating mechanism?

Furthermore, it's seldom that I ever see a great interior attached to a bland exterior. It happens though, often exteriors are the last to receive attention. Homeowners work through systems, bathrooms, kitchens, etc, the stuff they need to live, before finally focusing on the facade. But even those postponed facades usually hold promise.

That's why neighborhoods undergoing re-appreciation will often continue to improve visually, even without turnover. Restoration projects, after decades of deferred maintenance, can take years to complete.

Me, I'm a detail guy, and I like a complex facade. Usually, rich exterior elements portend strong interior elements. Similarly, when a facade rich in detail is being compromised, or being made more simple, you can bet the same is happening inside.

Economic Miracles Part 1

Whereas most building styles moved East to West, mined from Europe and elsewhere, California was ground zero for the short lived Mission Style, and Los Angeles the mother lode.

Preservation is about many things, continuity, identity, tradition, and it should particularly apply to rare indigenous forms.

The Mission Style is marked by its parapets (and thick coping), towers, and full-length, arcaded porches, elements borrowed from California's real and imagined Spanish Colonial past.

In Alvarado Terrace, this example is still identifiable. That's the best that can be said, the distinctive massing has not been totally obliterated. Nearly anything can be restored, though restoration minded home buyers generally seek the most intact properties, not necessarily in avoidance of great challenges, but in rejoice of existing--sometimes irreplaceable--elements, and the opportunity for a high degree of "integrity". Correspondingly, the most heavily altered properties are those least likely to be restored.

Over time this gulf widens, the most intact and/or restored properties command the highest prices, and attract buyers with the most resources and the greatest sensitivities. Heavily altered properties suffer from additional neglect, or poor workmanship and the use of inappropriate and cheap materials. The value of these properties are retarded, registering less appreciation--or in a softer market as present, the greatest losses.

Hate Crimes, Loving Responses (Part 2)

The response to Hate Crimes (like some of my previous stucco diatribes) has been intensely supportive. Desperado critic and Arts & Crafts au fait Jane Powell offered her endorsement, and has penned a more extensive, similarly flavored piece for publication. Stucco Liberation Front leader Lisa Auerbach added choice comments. Hernandez Hernandez intriguingly blamed the auto industry, and its consumerist conditioning. Michelle Emard delivered flyers (pictured) utilized by the Anaheim Colony Historic District.

Many communities distribute similar hand-outs, and most tout the importance of education.
With perhaps a touch of cynicism, I argue for regulation, HPOZ's, design review boards, etc. Typically though, some lunk-head objects to the oversight, 'I don't want the Man telling me what I can and cannot do with my home,' goes the riff.
"Move to the outback then," begins my vinegar-y response, "because the Man already exercises control, with occupancy and use restrictions, zoning, permitting processes and building codes."

'Are we to saved from ourselves?' sneer the property rights zealots.
"We're mostly prisoners of our times," I might respond, undeterred by accusations of patriarchy, "sufferers of historical astigmatism, guilty of egregious environmental disregard (of both the built and natural). Who doesn't regret the destruction of Penn Station, the herding of low income African Americans into bunkerized, neo-brutalist towers, hill-topping, and the loss of architect masterworks like the Larkin Building, or Sullivan's Zion Temple?"
'So is it planners you're championing, or planners you're decrying?' question the critics.

"I'm championing preservation, simple preservation".

Hate Crimes Part I

Most vernacular housing built in Los Angeles between 1870 - 1920, was clad with wood. After World War I however, house styles began to change (again) and stucco became the dominant exterior treatment. Stucco is a mixture of cement, sand, water, and lime; and, is applied to almost any rigid surface by trowel. It's a versatile compound with great expressive qualities and tremendous durability.

So what's my beef? More of the usual, I've grown increasingly unwilling to absolve those who suffocate beautifully modulated clapboard and shingle in a stucco straitjacket. I don't care about lower maintenance claims; or, that a stucco facade is associated with high status in Timbuktu.
The latter is touchy stuff, but who's got patience for ethnocentrism? I neither insist on a seventh-inning stretch at the bull fight, nor refuse to remove my galoshes when entering a traditional Japanese interior.

Yeah, the defenders cry, but you're an educated mutt who understands theories of cultural relativism. "What about the loss of unique culture forms," I rebut somewhat anfractuously, "doesn't that deserve a little play?" Anyhow before I devolve into an irresolvable hash-slinger about enculturation and perception, back to the gripe.

This architecturally dulling process is generally accomplished by firstly attaching some form of wire lath to the wood siding. Often moldings are discarded too, or consumed by the application.
Preservation may not be about aesthetics, but dang it's hard to believe some would prefer "the flat."

The sociologists chime in again: judgements are based on experience, and experience is interpreted by each individual in terms of his own enculturation.

Can I get an expert witness?!

More Bar Removal

Hunter Ochs rang, "I read the blog entry about bar removal (Gone in 20 Minutes), and it sounded fun--particularly the part about the taqueria."

"It isn't fun," I countered, "it's a freshet of hot sparks, flakes of metal, and paint--hard, dirty work....I'll call Josh, we'll be right over."

I'm asked repeatedly about the presence of security bars in West Adams. Mostly, they're a vestige of an earlier, more fearful time, beginning with the 'defensible spaces' discourse of the 1970's. Form follows fear. These bars were installed at least two owners ago, prior to 1990.

A few concerned homeowners go beyond window bars, utilizing alienated poochies, razor wire, alarm systems, even protection from a higher power. Statues of the Virgin Mary, housed in plexiglass trophy cases or in a spotlit niche.

Still, security bars are as often removed today in southern Mid-City as installed. Frequently the catalyst for bar removal is the simple need to paint. After the purge, some residents initially feel a bit exposed, even vulnerable, though usually such feelings are short-lived. Most later indicate a greater sense of engagement and connectedness with the exterior.

Many homeowners remove their security grilles an exposure at a time--an audition of sorts, beginning in the front, and ending in the rear.

The holes left by the bolts can be filled with wood dowels, chiseled, filled, and sanded flush.

Manufacturers seek to make these impregnations more decorative, like wrought iron rather than mild steel, with ridiculous curly ques, spears, finials, and twists.

Rather like trying to make a silk purse of a sow's ear.

Gone in 20 Minutes

Josh Berman continues full throttle on his restoration rampage. First he removed the asbestos siding from his Craftsman Bungalow (see Before and Just After, 3/4/08), next he began to strip moldings and casings (of paint). Saturday, he recruited me to help remove his front (so-called) security door. I issued my terms of engagement, "I'll need a grinder, extension cord, two cut-off wheels, and a take out order from the taqueria on Jefferson."

These metal doors are generally installed with one-way screws, impossible to back out even with bit and gun. My technique is to grind the screw heads off and then using a very large carpenter pull (see image left), twist them out. Ultimately we were able to tip the entire door construct (rigid frame and all) forward and off.


The recojedores, hip to the scrap resale opportunity, loitered just beyond the work scene, buzzard-like, puzzled--though not the least bit distracted, nor made introspective--by our bourgeoisie obsession with things pretty.

Once the grinder emerges, it's hard to holster. With missionary zeal, we sought to eradicate other blight. Neighbor Kathleen beckoned, "you can cut off my window bars, I'm tired of the penitentiary look."
"Ok," Josh commanded, "we'll need an extension cord, two cut-off wheels, and a take out order from the taqueria on Jefferson."