Palm Springs, Modern Architecture, and Herb Greene

Left to right: Moderator with Alan Hess, Lila Cohen, Craig Lee.

Modernism Week, celebrated annually in Palm Springs, is a melange of housing tours, cocktail parties, and lectures. It is one of the biggest tourism opportunities for Palm Springs and a chance to disseminate its unique modern image to the world. For aficionados of Modern architecture, the 2023 offerings did not disappoint. During the event I served as part-time docent at Desert Lanai, a Charles Dubois-designed condo project from 1965.  Andy Farr and five other Desert Lanai residents opened their homes to an international audience seeking a glimpse of mid-century modern architecture not normally available to the public. (Pictures below.) For me, the highlights of the week were the many lectures covering minutiae of modernism with a high level of academic discipline. Topics like “Googie” architecture were treated with depth and respect not usually associated with the subject. Another panel explained in detail the restoration of architect Paul Williams’s home in Los Angeles. And my personal favorite was a panel discussion on Herb Greene, who studied architecture under Bruce Goff at the University of Oklahoma (my alma mater) in the 1950s. 

The Herb Greene panel was important because it broadened the discussion of Modernism in significant ways. It is easy to reduce Mid Century Modern (MCM) architecture and lifestyles to a bundle of cliches: flat roofs, breeze block, martini bars, starburst wall clocks, and Mad Men color schemes. These are cliches worth loving—don’t get me wrong—but there is much more to Modern architecture. An examination of Herb Greene’s work lifts Modernism out of a stylistic rut. In fact, I believe we should stop thinking about Modernism as a style; it is more correctly understood as a philosophy. The pioneers of Modern architecture believed they were creating a new way of living with open floor plans, connections to nature, and optimism for the future. They prized innovation, creativity, and experimentation. Unlike most styles, where you can choose from a pattern book of approved architectural elements to create an acceptable simulacrum of Colonial or Gothic architecture, Modernism demands that we look at deeper connections between client, site, and materials. 

Herb Greene's Prairie House, Norman, OK. (1960)

Prairie House detail.

Herb Greene pictured with Lila Cohen.

The centerpiece of the Herb Greene panel was a film (a work in progress) by Greene’s niece, Lila Cohen, Remembering the Future with Herb Greene. Architect and nascent filmmaker Cohen presents Greene and his work as an ongoing exploration of the meaning of shelter. Greene started that exploration as a young man by traveling to Oklahoma to meet Bruce Goff. He came out of that meeting saying, “I have met my first genius.” I can personally attest to the genuineness of that sentiment, because that was exactly what I said after my first meeting with Goff some years later. 

Bruce Goff with unidentified student at Greene's Prairie House. 

Greene studied under the genius of Goff and went on to create a body of work uniquely his own. Greene’s work can be startling when first encountered. It uses materials in unexpected ways. Interiors can be transparent or cavelike, depending on the desired mood. His architecture is blithely non-orthogonal, demanding critical thinking by the user to be understood, but it rewards the effort with a new sense of what architecture could be. In addressing what could be, it looks to the future. 

Herb Greene's Cunningham residence. (1962)

Lila Cohen’s advisors for the film project include historian Alan Hess, author of over twenty books on architecture, and Craig Lee, curator of the Goff archives at the Art Institute in Chicago. Both gentlemen were on the panel and provided context on Greene’s rightful position in the panoply of modern architects. Hess linked Greene to an American architectural lineage that goes back to the nineteenth century: Sullivan, Wright, Goff, and the mid century generation that includes Lautner, Neutra, Dubois, and Greene. Lee emphasized the importance of the Goff connection. The built works of Goff and Greene do not look anything alike. But in their shared opposition to the conventional architecture of the time, it is obvious that Greene fully absorbed Goff’s assertion that “there should be as many styles of architecture as there are clients.” It would be difficult to find any definition of individualism more fine-grained than that. 
There is an MCM revival going on right now. It seems to be a national phenomenon in residential architecture. And, in commercial architecture, Modernism never went away. This is an ideal time to reassess what we mean by Modernism. Herb Greene and his work point toward an alternative to the pattern book approach. Modern architecture, thought of as a philosophy rather than a style, is an ongoing revolution that invites continuing examination. Lila Cohen’s documentary film is part of that examination. 

Andy Farr residence at Desert Lanai. 

Charles DuBois's Desert Lanai. (1965)

New Video Channel: ARCHITECTURE MINUTE

Launched this month is my new YouTube channel, Architecture Minute. Like this blog, the channel explores all facets of architecture, including architectural history, philosophy, and new ideas. Iconic buildings and important architects are also part of the mix. The great thing about a video format is, of course, the expanded ability to present the visual aspect of architectural appreciation. 

There are many vlogs about architecture, including some with similar titles. (There are only so many pithy words you can combine with architecture!) It would be a great help to my efforts if, once you find my videos, you LIKE (the thumb-up icon) and SUBSCRIBE to the channel. If you're like me, it's kind of an annoyance to be asked to commit to yet another electronic "like". But that is the only way my YouTube channel will be searchable through the inscrutable algorithems of Google and YouTube. Please LIKE and SUBSCRIBE. It costs nothing. Sincere thanks!

The first season of Architecture Minute is ten episodes. In truth, with introductions and end titles, each episode is more like two minutes, but "architecture two minutes" is not very catchy. Forgive my temporal license. Architectural concepts explored in the first season are rhythm, focal points, and articulation. Also discussed are three architects responsible for inventing Mid Century Modern architecture: Mies van der Rohe, Corbusier, and Frank Lloyd Wright. Each episode is a simple lesson in architecture. It is my hope that everyone who has an interest in architecture will find something of value. In particular, young people starting out in architecture, or simply curious about it, will find this a great introduction to what architecture is or could be. 

Naturally, I invite your comments and suggestions. And please remember to LIKE and SUBSCRIBE!

Architect Walter Weberhofer

Casa Fernandini by Walter Weberhofer (1957).

I don't know why I have never heard of Walter Weberhofer (1923-2002) at some time during my architectural education. Weberhofer was a prolific modernist architect working in Peru. I recently stumbled across images of his Casa Fernandini (1957) built on the beach at Santa Maria del Mar, Peru. I am embarrassed to admit this design eluded my awareness for so long. It is a dramatic and romantic architectural work of art — worthy of inclusion in any history of Mid Century Modern design. 

Casa Fernandini.

Casa Fernandini.

Weberhofer's manually-drafted elevation for Casa Fernandini.

Floor plan, Casa Fernandini.

Casa Fernandini, with its cantilevered decks and horizontal emphasis, is obviously influenced by Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater (1939) at Bear Run, Pennsylvania. However, it is not just a knock-off of Wright's work. Casa Fernandini hints at the New Brutalism movement about to emerge as well as being extremely vigorous with angular tension and structural panache. The house also reminds me of sets for the film version of  Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead (Warner Brothers, 1949.) The set designs by Edward Carrere were panned at the time by the architectural press as a perversion of modern architectural principles. Admittedly they were cartoonish and hyperbolic, but also viscerally enjoyable. Weberhofer's work is like that. Over the top, but fun. 

Set design for The Fountainhead.

Set design for The Fountainhead.

LaVerne Lantz Architectural Biography Now Available on iBooks

My updated and expanded monograph, LaVerne Lantz -- An Architectural Biography, is now available on iBooks. This is Apple's book ap, also known as Apple Books or Books. If you have an iOS device (iPhone, iPad, Mac) the ap is available for free in the ap store. Find this book by searching Michael Knorr or LaVerne Lantz. 

This monograph was originally inspired by a tour of architecture in southeastern Wisconsin by Frank Lloyd Wright Wisconsin, Inc. The tour, dubbed Wright and Like -- Driving Mr. Wright, was held in June of 2014 and is an annual event. The 2014 tour featured two Frank Lloyd Wright homes as well as projects by other architects who are "like" Wright. Included were five homes by a relatively unknown home designer, LaVerne Lantz. 

The current version of this "architectural biography" has been expanded with additional text as well as more photographs and drawings. 

The mid-twentieth century saw an effusion of modern architecture. Mid-Century Modern design was in the air across America when LaVerne Lantz started to become aware of architecture. After completing a few fledgeling projects, his commissions came to him by word-of-mouth referrals. He never compromised his design philosophy; as a result, every Lantz design is a clear testament to his well-developed sense of what a house should and ought to be. Every Lantz home is a confident expression of internally consistent design principles and coherent themes. Despite the high quality and integrity of LaVerne Lantz's body of work, it is largely undocumented. This monograph serves to remedy that omission in architectural history. Any fan of Frank Lloyd Wright and aficionados of Mid-Century Modern design will appreciate LaVerne Lantz's original take on the principles of organic architecture. 

Trump, Speer, and the Queen of Hearts

In February 2020, Architectural Record reported that the Trump White House was considering an executive order entitled “Making Federal Buildings Beautiful Again.” While few would disagree with such an innocuous-sounding goal, Trump’s fiat is intended to put a noose around creativity until it sings Trump to the high heavens. Not so innocuous when you see the hubris behind the decree. 

The draft for the executive order mandates that “the classical architectural style shall be the preferred and default style” for new federal buildings. Unnoticed by the general public in this time of corona virus, the EO may seem trivial on its face. Most people don’t understand why architects would be agitated by the proposal. Generally, the public does not care about this issue. Who can blame them when there are so many immediately obvious threats hanging over our health, our democracy, the world economy.  Too many important things to occupy our worried minds. But “Making Federal Buildings Beautiful Again” is loaded with so many political and philosophical cluster bombs it stands — whether actually enacted or not — as a glaring emblem for all that is wrong with Trump World. There is so much malevolence in this one EO it is difficult to unpack all of its dangers. But we will try.

In 1931 a German architect named Albert Speer joined the Nazi party. In short order he became Hitler’s confidant and chief architect. Possessing great natural talent and a flare for the dramatic, Speer orchestrated extravagant architectural backdrops for Hitler’s Nazi domination fantasies. Some of Speer’s creations were so grandiose they were unbuilt or unbuildable. Like the proposed Volkshalle intended to seat 150,000 people under a vast Neoclassical dome 820 feet in diameter and nearly as tall as the Empire State Building.  Here der Führer could address his adoring fans with rousing speeches composed of lies, impossible promises, and impassioned pleas to make Germany great again. (Need we even ask if this sounds familiar?) Another unbuilt design was Deutsches Stadion which would have accommodated 400,000 people for Nazi rallies in an outdoor venue.  

Other Speer buildings did actually get built. One of his most brilliant designs was little more than a stage set: what came to be known as the Cathedral of Light. For his annual mass rally in 1933, Hitler wanted a huge new stadium. But time ran out before the stadium could be completed. Speer punted by creating a virtual space. He commandeered 152 massive searchlights from the Lufwaffe. Arranged around the stadium at 39 foot intervals, their powerful 5-foot-diameter lenses were aimed straight up to make a colonnade of light. It could be seen from five miles distant. The monumental effect stirred German pride in service to the Third Reich.  

Speer was adept at eliciting powerful emotions from his brick-and-mortar designs as well. The German Pavilion at the 1937 World Fair in Paris and Hitler’s Chancellery headquarters in Berlin were both designed to intimidate. A Nazi architectural style emerged, incited by Hitler’s megalomania and executed by Speer with relish. 

Nazi architecture had two characteristics. First, everything was up-scaled to impress. Columns were taller than they needed to be, rooms were vast, processional hallways long and grand. Second, the style was invariably a pared-down version of Classical architecture. Intending to borrow the authority of timeless Greek and Roman forms, this bare-bones classicism was also influenced by then-current Art Deco modernism. But the real intent was to shock and awe. Hitler wanted an architecture that would legitimize his power and Speer was happy to oblige. Nazi architecture had a dystopian edge from the very beginning. Somber, cruel, dreadful. Dreadful in the real sense of the word: one is full of dread just gazing at pictures of the evil empire’s architectural fever dreams. Hitler understood that the glorification of his ego through public works could manipulate people as effectively as his finely-crafted speeches. It was all theater. (Again, does this sound familiar?)

Albert Speer's "Cathedral of Light".

Politics and architecture intersected in Nazi Germany. Architecture was manipulated to produce results amicable to the regime. The same impulse is the motivation behind the executive order being considered by the White House. The White House clearly perceives Classical architecture as a symbol of power and authority. We know this because Trump has already used the most vulgar forms of traditional architecture to display his wealth and establish his authority. (Try Googling images of his Trump Tower lair with its gilt excesses.) This shouldn’t be a surprise; every two-bit potentate has employed the same strategy. But Trump is an amateur. Speer celebrated Nazi corruption with fearless panache; the White House proposal is just a feeble grasping at perceived bygone glory.  

To avoid confusion, let’s be precise on exactly what type of  transgression we are criticizing. Architects are not incensed that Trump thinks the only “good” style is Classical. There are many practitioners who still specialize in Neoclassical architecture and approach it with sincere reverence. I have myself dabbled in the field and enjoy the occasional Doric column as much as the next guy. But even diehard proponents of classical architecture are dismayed by Trump’s EO. One, Michael Lykoudis, dean of architecture at Notre Dame, claims it “reduces an entire architectural philosophy to caricature.”  What is wrong here is the imperial willfulness of the Trump regime. Nobody cares if Trump’s personal tastes skew to the antique; it is his desire to impose his tastes on everybody — architects, government agencies, postal patron that rankles -- and his assumption that imperial architecture will convince everyone of his imperial-ness. 

When Alice was in Wonderland she encountered the Queen of Hearts. The Queen, being a queen, only wanted things one way: her way. Her preferred color for roses was red, not white. So her minions painted the roses red. A game of croquet in the Queen’s realm was never what it seemed. At the queen’s orders, flamingos acted as croquet mallets while terrified hedgehogs avoided being the targets. For all who defied the Queen’s wishes it was “off with their heads!” 

Trump wields his executive orders like the Queen’s scepter, forcing all of us through the looking glass into Trump World. When I mention this particular executive order it is met with disbelief.  Surely, that’s not true. Or, maybe you misunderstood. But for over three years we all have witnessed his attempts to create a bizarre world built on autocratic fantasy. This is true, no matter how ridiculous it sounds. In the realm of the Queen of Hearts, all orders, no matter how irrational, must be obeyed. Otherwise it is “off with their heads!” 

Trump’s proposed EO almost seems whimsical, but he has already put in place the mechanisms to enforce it. Architecture in Washington passes before the U.S. Commission on Fine Arts (CFA). One might think their review would provide a certain amount of protection against such arbitrary rules. But Trump has already appointed a new member to the CFA, Justin Shubow.  Mr. Shubow is not even an architect, but he is president of the National Civic Art Society (NCAS), an organization devoted to the promotion of Classical architecture. The NCAS web site proclaims that “contemporary architecture is… a failure.”  Mr. Shubow’s organization believes architecture should “return to its pre-Modernist roots.” Trump reinforced Mr. Shubow’s appointment by adding two additional NCAS members to the CFA. 

I usually avoid any discussions that conflate architecture with politics. They are not related in any way, but there are times in history when it is made to seem so. Art movements come and go, are reviled or proclaimed, promoted or suppressed. But one can be certain that anytime the state gets involved in such distinctions, it is a sure sign of bigger shenanigans going on.  Now, as in Nazi Germany, politics and architecture once again intersect. Not in exactly the same way, but with the same amount of hubris and megalomania. With overwhelming dismay from architects, this proposed order may never see the light of day. But it should be (yet another) warning sign that something is amiss in Washington. Trump does not have at his command the talent of an Albert Speer, but he is crashing around the hallowed halls of government like a drunken Queen of Hearts. How much damage can our institutions endure under such relentless attack? 

God save us from the Queen. 

The Architecture of Power 2: The White House

If the Capitol building is a symbol of a powerful nation (see previous blog entry), the White House is the symbol of a powerful individual, the President of the United States.

White House stationery.

The White House is interesting as much for what it is not as for what it is. The White House, as signified by name, is not a palace. It is not a castle. It is not even called a mansion. It is a house. (Although it should be noted that early appelations referred to it as the President's Mansion or the President's Palace.) As seats of power go, it is comparatively humble, meant to reflect the idea that our President is a man of the people. He is not a king or sultan or dictator. We do not have, therefore, something like Buckingham Palace with its brutally imposing facade and massive size.  Where palaces of potentates are deliberately intimidating and seemingly impenetrable, the White House is gentle by comparison. The grounds are bucolic and welcoming; most powerful administrative functions are downplayed. It presents a domestic visage. The Oval Office, the epicenter of power, is tucked to the side of the main quarters. Other important functions are shifted to to the executive office building. (An exceedingly ugly and ornate Victorian structure a block away). The core of the White House looks like a white house, not the nexus of national and international activity it certainly is.  Sure, it is a mansion, but a mansion not much different than your local run-of-the-millionaire might inhabit. The leader of the free world lives here, but that fact is cleverly downplayed.

The north facade looks like a two story building. Note how the east and
west wings and third floor are barely visible. 

Earliest known photo of the White House. (South Lawn.)

This self-effacing White House is a deliberate illusion.  The under-played west wing is one device that keeps the main house looking like a "simple" mansion. The third floor above the main house is downplayed as an incidental attic, set back from the outer walls and mostly hidden behind a Palladian balustrade. In reality, it houses full size rooms put to various support purposes.  Major functions are hidden from public view, including extensive basement bunkers and tunnels, and certainly a lot of things to which only the secret service is privy.

The White House structure is much more complex than first meets the eye.  At a glance it appears to be a two-story home.  In reality, the ground plane has been manipulated so the ground floor is hidden from view on the north (front) elevation.  The "first" and "second" floors are raised a full story above natural grade. The apparent attic is essentially a fourth story.  Two levels of basement below the ground floor make this a six story enterprise - half of it hidden or disguised.  Contiguous with the main building, the west and east wings are attached by the ground level and basement, visually diminishing their true importance and extent. It is all very clever.

White House interior during the Truman renovation.

The basic form of the current White House can be attributed to the Truman renovation constructed from 1949 to 1952.  When Truman took office, the White House, without exaggeration, was a wreck. Things were so rotted and shaky that Truman claimed there was imminent danger of his bath tub crashing through the second floor while the Daughters of the American Revolution were having tea in the room below. He would be forced to greet them "wearing nothing more than reading glasses." Indeed, in 1948 a leg of Margaret Truman's piano actually crashed through a second floor sitting room through the ceiling of the dining room below.

The White house had been altered many times to accomodate the tastes and preferences of different administrations. Most notably, perhaps, was the restoration after a major fire during the War of 1812.  But the Truman renovation created the basic shape of the White House we know today. This rebuilding preserved the outside walls of the White House, but not much else.  This extent of rebuilding is quite obvious in period photographs.

Schematic overview of the White House complex. 

Detail plan of the west wing. (Reversed and up side down from the preceding drawing.) 

Like the Capitol building, the White House is an icon of political power. As such, it is almost impossible to judge as architecture. What can we say about the design? It succesfully uses architectural  deceptions to hide its true size. It is an textbook example of neo-classical residential architecture, completely in tune with the architectural fashion the late sixteenth century. The original design was created by architect James Hoban, selected by George Washington in a competition.  (Thomas Jefferson had anonymously submitted a competing design.) In the end, is it good architecture? Maybe. Probably. But that is overshadowed by everything else it represents.

Basic plans of the first and second floors. 

The home of the president of the United States is an awesome presence in Washington D.C.  Perhaps we should be grateful it's impact has been somewhat tempered by design lest any self-centered, duplicitous, megalomaniac president assume more power and authority than is actually allowed the office. One can hope.

This aerial view reveals the attic addition as well as part of the ground level.
There are two additional basement levels. 

Capturing Architecture in Art

Every once in a while someone comes along with a fresh, invigorating approach to art and architecture. Chris Musselman is carving out an artistic niche with a unique rendering style that will be of interest to architects, builders, and marketing professionals.

I became aware of Chris through a series of renderings published in Modern in Denver magazine. His illustrations focused on the Denver neighborhood of Arapahoe Acres. This 1950s-era community is on the National Register of Historic Places. It is a beautiful example of mid-century modern architecture. I decided to track Chris down to commission a rendering of my own home. His phone contact  contained an out-of-state area code and his tracks ran through Chicago and Santa Fe.  But it turns out he now lives and works in my town, Denver, Colorado.

Chris applies a spare graphic approach to architectural renderings, with lots of atmospherics and a lively sense of color. His technique is highly stylized but approachable. Here is a link to his website: www.christianmusselman.com. And here is the rendering he produced for my house.

Architectural rendering by Chris Mussellman. 

Thanks, Chris!

Architecture Podcast

Our friends at Mountain View Windows and Doors run a regularly schedule podcast about architecture, design, building, and business. The Art of Construction podcast continues to grow and develop and has become the #1 podcast on iTunes for contractors and architects.  With their increased success they have decided to give it is own home/website: the art of construction.net. 

With this is mind, the link to their interview with Michael Knorr has also changed: http://www.theartofconstruction.net/episode-38-with-michael-knorr.

Podcast hosts Kevin Keefe and Devon Tilly.

The Architecture of Power 1: The Capitol Building

The Capitol of the United States.

Buildings are often symbols for something beyond the structures themselves.  Kevin Lynch famously made this argument in Learning from Las Vegas (Robert Venturi, Denise Scott Brown, Steven Izenour; MIT Press 1977).  Lynch's book praised gigantic neon signs as an appropriate architecture for a fast-moving car culture that has no time for diminutive details. In Las Vegas the buildings themselves become signs, using architecture to attract gawkers and gamblers.

Buildings may blatantly telegraph their function. Hot dog stands in the shape of hot dogs. Ice cream shops as oversized canisters of cream. Motels as concrete teepees. These examples are kitsch; they hardly qualify as architecture. Buildings with more august functions usually employ subtle cues to communicate their function. This is when design transcends structure. It is particularly fascinating to contemplate the architecture of power. Can architecture be used to support the very idea of political power? There is no better place to look for an answer than the capital of the free world, Washington, D.C.

Little Man ice cream stand in Denver.

Roadside hot dog in Colorado.

Washington abounds with buildings designed to communicate power, authority, strength. The Capitol building itself is a leading example. An vague image of the Capitol is potent enough to signal power around the world. Whether as a photograph or an abstract logo, the Capitol is universally recognized as a symbol of power. The Capitol is so familiar that even a lean graphic suggesting the capitol dome provides instant recognition and authority. Letter heads, campaign stickers, or government edicts frequently employ the abstraction. It is used as a logo for political talk shows and to market patriotic merchandise of all sorts. Images of the capitol are ubiquitous.

Iconic images of the U.S. Capitol. 

The first Capitol dome, designed by Charles Bulfinch, a Boston architect, was finished in 1824. After Capitol expansions it was considered too small (and a fire hazard). A new dome was constructed to a design by Thomas U. Walter in the 1850s. Eleven Capitol architects have contributed changes and additions over the years. The building has morphed over time; it is impossible to credit authorship to any individual. The accretion of additions has also resulted in the dome looking somewhat like a decoration plopped atop a sheet cake, connected less than elegantly to the elements beneath. Such criticism may seem churlish to some. The symbolism of the Capitol bears almost as much emotional weight as the nation's flag. To criticize it seems unpatriotic. Which brings up the central problem in writing a serious architectural critique of the Capitol: the building is so familiar that it is more of an icon and less of a building. Still, it is architecture and can be viewed as such.

A cake.

How does it stack up as architecture?  To my eye, the proportions are less than graceful. It looks like what it is: an accretion of add-ons and improvements over time by different people for different purposes. The cohesion of the separate elements is tenuous. I once voiced this criticism to a Washington, D.C. resident. He was horrified. What an affront to the city and it's most iconic building! Well, there you have it: the Capitol is an icon... it can hardly be criticized as architecture. As a symbol of power, it is unparalleled in the world. Perhaps it succeeds as architecture in spite of the architecture, because the building successfully communicates its role as the ultimate seat of power.  But a hot dog stand does the same thing in its realm; nobody would seriously call it architecture. This is a discussion that goes in circles without resolution. The Capitol is a prime example of the architecture of power, but it may or may not be good architecture. I believe it is nearly impossible to objectively see the Capitol, hidden behind its veil of political preconceptions and symbolism.

Finally, the interior of the Capitol building is, put plainly, a let down. Without question, other domed spaces are more impressive than the hall under the Capitol dome. Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, St. Peter's in Rome, the Duomo in Florence - all stand superior. Then we have the Senate and House chambers. When I visited, neither house was in session; it was easy to stroll through and get a sense of the architecture. Many state capitols are better designed than this national assembly. The Senate and House chambers are stuffy rooms, mechanically de-odorized as if there is some stench that needs to be masked. The windowless spaces, festooned with heavy velvet swags, felt like a funeral home. It was depressing to think that some of the most important decisions in the world are made in this environment. On a scale of one to ten, the Capitol interiors rate three.

Please don't think I am unpatriotic.

Aerial view of U.S. Capitol.

Knorr Architecture Published in Luxe

We are pleased to announce that another architecture and design magazine has picked up our work. Luxe (Colorado edition) features one of our recently completed mountain projects.  The 16 page article has great photos  by James Ray Spahn and a lengthy article explaining the project by Tate Gunnerson. We worked with two New York interior designers Elizabeth Brosnan Hourihan and Claus Rademacher to realize the owners' goals for a throroughly modern home. The builder was Mark Manley of Golden, Colorado.

Luxe magazine July/August 2016

The project is an extensive remodeling and addition to a home we originally designed for a different client years ago.  The original incarnation of this mountain home was published in The Rocky Mountain News.  It also won a Best Custom Home award from the Denver Home
Builders Association.

The Rocky Mountain News 

Architects, Artists, and the Internet

A while back I wrote about paintings by architect Bruce Goff ("Bruce Goff: Architect and Painter"). The images of Goff's paintings were given to me by John Bowles years ago. A fellow architecture student, I've long been out of touch with John Bowles. He was an amazingly talented person and, for  a time, apprenticed to Bruce Goff in Kansas City. (Thus the Goff connection.) Like so many friends from the past, we did not keep in touch.

Now, a story about the power of the Internet.

John Bowles contacted me recently by email.

This is John Bowles, one of your architecture classmates... Well, this evening my family was gathered around the dining table talking about architecture... and my son did a quick search of my name and Bruce Goff's. Your blog came right up and we all were amazed to see Bruce's drawings. They are real beauties. You said on the page that I gave you slides of them - hmmm, maybe I did. Sounds familiar. But we all had to laugh to see the third one... that was one of mine.  In fact, it hangs in my house right now. Can't you see how rough it looks besides Bruce's? Might want to pull it from that listing on BG.  Anyway, it was a real accent to our after-dinner discussion. Thank you for adding surprise and delight to our evening. 

It is a pleasure to show this painting again and give credit to its rightful artist, John Bowles:

Painting by John Bowles.

I'm sure John will forgive my mistake. In fact, there are probably many paintings floating around by former Oklahoma University students that could be mistaken for an original Goff.  Bruce Goff, chairman of the school in the 1950s, used painting as a teaching tool.  A typicial assignment for freshmen architectural students would be to throw powdered tempera paint on huge sheets of wet construction paper. The resulting images were usually swirly abstracts that were totally unpredictable.  The paper would be allowed to dry overnight; the second phase of the assignment would be to "control" the swirly abstract painting by adding intentional paint, colored pencil, or other media. The point of this was analogous to an architect presented with a difficult site. The site is a "given" out of your control. Architecture is a way to control, augment, and even enhance the site.

This teaching tool was, as far as I know, invented by Bruce Goff. Later, it was famously continued by the legendary professor Dean Bryant Vollendorf. When I was teaching at Oklahoma University I adopted and adapted the same method for my students.  They produced many beautiful paintings.

John Bowles did not continue with architecture, but he carries on the teaching tradition with his family...

...as the creative works of my children... will attest. (Soon I will conduct painting exercises for our kids - just like the ones that produced the pictures in your blog. And my youngest daughter and her husband are headed out to Arizona this coming weekend for their second annual trek to Arcosanti. They are so inspired by Soleri's ideas. They were absolutely shocked to hear I had already been there 48 years before!)

Best wishes to John and his family and thank you for continuing an artistic/architectural/educational tradition.

Podcast for Architects and Builders

I was interviewed recently for a new podcast aimed at architects and builders sponsored by Mountain View Windows and Doors.  The podcast series is called The Art of Construction. It is intended to help architects and contractors "grow their businesses by exploring the world of construction." The podcast interviews are led by Devon Tilly and Kevin Keefe. They urge architects and builders to "consider this podcast to be your own business advisory board: sharing real life examples, navigating through the opportunities and land mines of the construction business with advice that you can implement in your business to continue making it better and more profitable."

You can listen to my interview (#38) as well as other interviews on iTunes or Sticher or directly from the Mountain View web site.  To get started click here:  SHOW 38: AVOID MISTAKES BY CREATING A PROCESS FOR LISTENING TO YOUR CUSTOMERS.

One project mentioned on the podcast. 

The Crazy Architecture in Dubai

When I was a kid I read as much science fiction as I could get my hands on by authors such as Robert Heinlein, Arthur C. Clark, Andre Norton, etc.  At the same time, real life magazines like Popular Science, which I consumed like candy, promised a future filled with flying cars, personal robots,  and fantastic architecture.

Magazines like Popular Science were big on modern
architecture and the inventions that went with it.

The covers of pulp science fiction often featured
architectural extravaganzas in futuristic mode.

I also devoured sic-fi movies like The Day the Earth Stood Still and Forbidden Planet (the best movie ever made).  It didn't help that my fourth grade teacher, Mr. Karp, predicted all sorts of inventions that would come about by the time I grew up. Specifically, he said it was all but certain a transporter machine the size of a telephone booth would whisk human beings from one place to another in the same manner a conversation traveled through phone wires.  I am still waiting for this invention to materialize.

Sci-fi movies then and now featured futuristic design. A set from Forbidden Planet, above. 

In other respects, it seems that the science fiction of yesterday is the reality of today.  I marvel that we actually seem to be living in the world of tomorrow. Hand-held computers, personal robots (I have a Rumba that cleans my floors every day), and other stuff of the future is here now.  Even our architecture resembles the cover of a science fiction novel from 1955. Not everywhere, but in many places.  Especially in Dubai with the Burj Kalifa tower, the Burj Al Arab Jumeirah hotel, and the Palm Islands. Now an upcoming project in Dubai continues the science fiction esthetic: Aladdin City. It's a little bit crazy and a lot of fun. The total cost of the project has not been announced. It will have air-conditioned bridges with a moving floor to connect the structures.  The highest of three towers is thirty-four stories.

The three towers of Aladdin City, Dubai. 

Aerial view of Aladdin City. 

A YouTube video about the project can be found here: Aladdin City.  The project will include offices and a hotel. So, you'll have a place to stay if you want to travel to the future.