The hypocrisy hounds smelled blood when word began to spread last year about “Leaves in the Wind,” the 156-acre, five-dwelling development in the Sweetwater Mesa area of the Malibu hills proposed by U2 guitarist The Edge. People salivated over the suggestion that the very band that propped itself up as a paragon of social responsibility would allow one of its own destroy the ecological balance of a cozy, coastal enclave.

As rancor built among neighbors and the California Coastal Commission debated aspects of the project, LA Times columnist Steve Lopez added to the cause-célèbre quotient when he launched a couple screeds impugning the integrity of the plan. The informational website that offered extensive details on the project was “slick,” scoffed Lopez, and the PR firm handling media inquiries were “lobbying/marketing people.” But what of the actual substance of the plans and the people who created them? Project Designer Wallace Cunningham and Landscaper Pamela Burton have built world-class reputations as sustainable building professionals. All necessary permits have been granted; there’s no rule bending or circumventing going on here. Thus far, Edge (David Evans when necessary) has stayed out of the fray, his statement on the Leaves in the Wind website being his only public comment on the matter. But he did take the time to provide some thoughtful responses to questions I e-mailed to him in mid-February.

First off, I wanted to know, did he expect that local opposition would be so passionate, and has it gotten him to reconsider any aspects of the project? “I went into the project determined to set a benchmark for architectural design in the Santa Monica Mountains, and for the project and to be exemplary in every aspect. Therefore, any legitimate criticism has been welcomed,” wrote Edge. “I believed that if I could communicate my intentions that I would win people over…. I believe that most of the local opposition is softening as understanding of our blended, sustainable approach deepens. However, there is a small group of locals who are very vocal and simply want to stop all development of any kind. We are not expecting them to change their no-growth opinion.”

Therein lies the crux of the issue. Build anything new in Malibu—on public or private land—and you’re committing a sacrilege, according to a few. I ask Edge what he thinks about this. “There is a new development of houses in a similar setting to our own that recently received permits just to the east of our land, so construction is not particularly unusual,” he wrote. “An important thing to realize is that because this land has pre-existing entitlements for five, individual, salable homes, it will be built upon at some point by somebody. From looking around at all of the inorganic, unsustainable homes in the area, the question for this land is not whether it is built upon, but what will be built,” he continued.  “We have the opportunity now to do it right.”

Edge and business partner Derek Quinlan bought the Sweetwater Mesa acreage in 2006 for $9 million. Of the 156 acres that make up the five land parcels, the plan calls for each home to sit on roughly a quarter acre, with a total of 1.15 acres being utilized for the development. Originally looking for just a single-family home in the area, Edge said when he saw a brochure for the property, he realized there was vast potential to create a pocket of “sustainable, organically blended homes” that would “collectively complement the landscape” of an area that he has developed strong connections to over the years. (Not exactly a recent invader, Edge has lived in Malibu for the past decade.)

I wanted to know how Edge came to choose Burton and Cunningham as the design team, and he obliged with a thorough explanation. After initial discussions with MIT Boston professors of architecture John Fernandez and Andrew Scott to “tease out the design philosophy,” Burton’s company was chosen because of her extensive work with native plants. Edge was attracted to Cunningham’s “organic architecture based on the design theories of Frank Lloyd Wright.” Edge and his wife, Morleigh, met extensively with Cunningham, visiting other homes he had designed, meeting at the local Starbucks in Malibu, and, finally, walking the site and discussing their shared goal of building on the land while respecting it.

“What I loved about his work,” wrote Edge about Cunningham, “was that each home was totally different and site-specific. They felt in harmony with the landscape. Seeing how Wally has painstakingly studied each square foot of the Sweetwater Mesa landscape…has been very inspiring. He got to know the land so well that he gave each natural rock outcrop a name.”

Cunningham, a gentle man with an easy laugh, understands people are upset, but he believes their anger is misdirected. “When I drive [Pacific Coast Highway] in Malibu, I’m disgusted,” he tells me. “The architecture’s ugly, everything’s paved, and those people who are complaining, did it all. They built ugly houses in gray colors, no rainwater systems, no solar…they have exotic, non-native landscapes, and they’re complaining.” Cunningham’s building plans integrate with the land, using non-objective shapes for the houses. “We didn’t use right angles,” he says. “We use shapes…and colors that [look like] the mountains.” I ask Cunningham what he makes of the protests, and he empathizes for a fleeting moment. “Everybody means well. It’s a beautiful piece of property. I’m sure they all wish they would have put money together and bought it years ago. But they didn’t.” Still, Cunningham believes when all is said and done, and the vision for Leaves in the Wind becomes reality, the opposition will be won over.

I ask Cunningham about the Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy’s claim that the project would bring with it “unavoidable significant adverse visual and ecological impacts,” according to a recent letter. “The Mountain Conservancy, it’s their job to say [they] don’t want anything [built].” Cunningham has already repositioned and redesigned the houses based on recommendations from the California Coastal Commission. “We took a year’s worth of work and threw it in the trash and started from scratch, and I redesigned [the houses] with their wishes in mind.”

Critics also have leveled claims that because a new water line will have to be constructed, other builders inevitably would be drawn to the area to tap into it as well. Edge was ready with an answer. “The extension of the existing water line will have very little potential for other builders to draw from it,” he replied. “The alignment was carefully designed to predominately follow already built and disturbed land. The two or three un-built parcels that conceivably could be served by the water line extension are growth-limited by difficult-to-build terrain, rather than water supply.” Clearly, this rock musician has become geologically enlightened through this whole process.

Stephen Billings, senior project manager at Pamela Burton and Company, elaborated on the process of integrating with the sensitive landscape. “We’re working with a native plant expert to help propagate plants….We want to plant small, for good root structure, have temporary irrigation for a year, then it’s survival of the fittest after that.” Billings mentioned that sophisticated drip irrigation systems that can communicate with weather satellites will be used within 100 feet of the homes to maximize efficient water use on a permanent basis. “We’re trying to reduce ecological impact by creating patches and networks of [native] plant materials,” he added. “We’re looking at how to go into this landscape and create new planting that blends in; we don’t want to create a green scar.”

I ask if there are plans to eventually widen the road or if any adjustments have been made to anticipate increased traffic. “There’s not going to be a lot of parking; they’re not going to be having big parties,” he assured me. Fair enough. But there is one final straw to grab at that even the most ardent dissenter probably had not considered. Surely, Edge’s home will be equipped with some ridiculously extravagant, state-of-the-art, recording facility that will by chance emit high frequencies causing all the furry critters in the area to turn rabid and attack the good people of Malibu in the town below. Then these meddling green builders will finally see the error of their ways. Your move, Edge. “Actually, the house will have no built-in technology. It’s going to be our family home, maybe a place for me to study, but hopefully not a work place.” No further questions, your honor.

Before Morleigh introduced him to the beauty of the Santa Monica Mountains years ago, Edge explained, “I had only ever seen L.A. from the perspective of a visiting touring musician, which was the basically the West Hollywood and Beverly Hills area. When I discovered the raw beauty of the mountains I was totally blown away. I felt I was seeing the real L.A. for the first time. From then on I have always stayed down near the coast.”

Cunningham offers a final rejoinder to those who would like to give Leaves in the Wind the proverbial rake. “We could be looking at more Taco Bells up there. We could be looking at a southern Tuscan villa,” he said. “In this case, we have something that I believe is American architecture. I like American architecture, from Thomas Jefferson to now. And I think American architecture is very different from other architecture in the world. And there is a tradition. I feel connected to John Lautner, to Frank Lloyd Wright, Schindler, Neutra—all of the gang…. Would I set out to destroy a beautiful place? I hope that’s not what people think of
my work.”

In the world of interactive architecture, no idea is too far-fetched to imagine. Lewis Carroll, Rod Serling, and Willy Wonka be damned—the futuristic oddities being brought to fruition in this burgeoning field give reality the upper hand over fantasy. Here you will find sturdy structures with transparent, flexible skin that “breathes” in response to air quality. You can send a text message to a building—yes, a building—and get a text response back. And that patch of colored lights you see hovering over the Hudson River? The colors are actually transmitting information collected from a submerged installation that evaluates water quality.

Revolutionary architects David Benjamin and Soo-in Yang are gaining recognition around the globe with their projects that blend visual appeal with cutting-edge, practical applications. In 2007, the two completed River Glow, the installation referenced above, which makes visible those environmental conditions that are normally invisible and, according to Benjamin, suggests that urban bodies of water can be public space claimed and occupied by the city’s residents.

Benjamin and Yang are currently in Seoul, South Korea, putting the finishing touches on their project, Living Light. The domed structure, measuring 8 m across and 3.7 m tall, is designed in the shape of the city, and individual neighborhoods glow and blink in response both to data about air quality and public interest in the environment in those areas. Construction is scheduled to be completed by the end of June.

In September, Benjamin and Yang will unveil Amphibious Architecture, a project they’ve been working on as part of the “Situated Technologies: Toward the Sentient City” exhibition, organized by the Architectural League of New York. I recently got in touch with Benjamin and he shared his thoughts on the current state of interactive architecture and the menu of ambitious projects in which he and his partner are involved.

h: How did you and Soo-in meet? Do you have similar training and backgrounds?

DB: We met as students at Columbia Graduate School of Architecture, Planning, and Preservation, where we both received our MAs in architecture in 2005. Before Columbia, I graduated from Harvard with a BA in social studies and played in the rock band Push Kings. Soo-in graduated from Yonsei University with a BE in architectural engineering and managed the construction of apartment complexes in Seoul. While we have different backgrounds, we share a lot of the same interests. We both work on almost all aspects of our projects—even if one of us has more experience or expertise.

h: What’s your general philosophy that governs how you approach your work?

DB: Our work involves an experimental, collaborative, open-source, and open-ended approach. We are interested in thinking big and imagining new possibilities for the future. But at the same time, our work is immediate.

h: How much has a specific interest in green building factored into the types of projects you’ve developed?

DB: We don’t really make a conscious effort to be green in our work. We just take it for granted that interesting, meaningful experiments in architecture and the city will address urgent issues like environmental quality and climate change. Before developing River Glow, we had created Living Glass [the “breathing” building that responds to air quality, mentioned earlier]. For River Glow, we were interested in systems that were energy self-sufficient and off the grid. And we realized that public waterways were important urban spaces, but there were no existing public interfaces to them. Carbon dioxide levels in the air, and pH and dissolved oxygen levels in the water, are invisible, but they are crucial to our health and the health of our ecosystems.

h: Describe how River Glow works.

DB: The project complements—but does not act as a substitute for—comprehensive lab testing of water. Unlike existing water monitoring, River Glow is inexpensive, modular, and easy to install. It’s a real-time public interface to water quality. A network of modular pods float in public waterways, collect solar energy, measure water quality through low-cost pH sensors, and use low-energy lighting to create a signal visible from the water or on shore. The effect of the project is a cloud of light that changes color according to the condition of the water below. [Red indicates poor quality; green indicates good quality.]

h: Does the Living Light structure have similar aspects to it? How did that project come about?

DB: Living Light is an interface to data about air quality. It’s a permanent outdoor pavilion in the heart of Seoul. Citizens can enter the pavilion or view it from nearby streets and buildings, and they can text message the building and it will text them back. We designed Living Light as an entry in a public art competition run by City Gallery, an agency that is part of the municipal government of Seoul. We have received a lot of interest in the project, and we hope to bring something similar to other cities.

h: Tell me a little bit about Amphibious Architecture.

DB: Amphibious Architecture is a collaboration between the Living Architecture Lab at Columbia [Benjamin and Yang are co-directors of the Lab] and xDesign Environmental Health Clinic at NYU, run by the artist Natalie Jeremijenko. Two networks of floating, interactive tubes will house a range of sensors below water that will monitor the presence of fish, water quality, and hydrodynamic forces. This data will then be displayed above water using an array of LED lights, along with wireless sensor communication and a text-messaging interface so that citizens can communicate with it from the shoreline. It will launch officially on September 10, 2009.

h: The idea of inanimate objects actively engaging people is quite provocative. Do you see this as an area of limitless growth in the field?

DB: Our work with interactive architecture is part of the trend of ubiquitous computing. As sensors and computers become smaller, cheaper, and more networked, literally disappearing into the woodwork of our buildings, they will allow for new kinds of interfaces and communication. We are interested in contributing to the discussion. It’s important for us to make use of these technologies to address social and cultural issues, and not just create flashy things.

And so, interactive architecture calls on a building to do more than just stand there and look pretty. Function and form, to put it politely, are more than just two ships that pass in the night; they’re building a meaningful relationship.

You can learn more about Benjamin and Yang’s work at

www.thelivingnewyork.com

Once upon a time – back in the early 1900’s – a sturdy brick building was erected in the sleepy town of Riverside, CA. [Cue lonely harmonica music as a wind-blown tumbleweed bounces lazily past.] It housed the California Iron Works, and CIW manufactured citrus washing, drying, sorting, and packing equipment. Exciting stuff.
Although not quite the epicenter of Dullsville, the town of Riverside – situated 60 miles east of Los Angeles – never cultivated a reputation for cutting-edge chic. Best known as the birthplace of the California citrus industry, Riverside grew to become the hub of the Inland Empire – a stretch of urban sprawl trailing the City of Angels like dust from a comet.
Flash forward to 2009, and the 106-year-old Ironworks Building (as it is now known) is anything but run-down and stodgy. In fact, it’s been called the most unique office setting in the city. What brought about this transition from eyesore to eye candy?
Credit Los Angeles developer Alan Mruvka, who saw the restoration potential of the two-story structure, which had been sitting dormant since World War II. He paid $350,000 for the 35,000 square-foot property and promptly invested seven times that into the project. “You could actually move some of the exterior bricks by hand,” recalls Mruvka on the condition of the building when he bought it. “There was graffiti on every wall and standing water on the first floor.”
Mruvka met with the City Planning Commission, City Council, and the Cultural Heritage Board to secure approval for his plans to reconfigure the site into creative office space. “The Cultural Heritage Board looks at the visual impact of what you want to do,” he says. “They wanted to make sure we retained the four-panel window mullions, and they insisted on wood window frames. There are also State Standards that say if you do anything new, you have to make it distinct. You can’t fake anything. You either repair it or make it look new. With a historic building, you really don’t know what you have until you completely gut it,” Mruvka says. Every element was stripped away, leaving just the shell of the structure intact. “I kept the shell and the interiors all contemporary and sandblasted the exposed wood.”
The most costly and time-consuming aspect of the restoration was the earthquake retrofitting. The floors were strengthened with thicker layers of plywood. All the brick was reinforced with steel columns. The original grout between each brick was painstakingly chipped away and replaced with a stronger grout that added integrity to the lateral bracing.
Mruvka studied architecture at University of Miami and the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn. The New York native’s interest in converting older buildings to new, hip workspaces is due in part to the city’s abundance of interesting architecture. “New York City is the greatest place in the world for renovation,” he declares emphatically. The influence of his Big Apple roots lives on: Mruvka duplicated the staircase of the Soho Grand Hotel for Ironworks.
When Mruvka first came to Los Angeles, architecture wasn’t the only thing on his mind. A lifelong film buff, Mruvka wanted to start an entertainment channel with a format similar to that of MTV, which catered to youth culture and short attention spans. The channel would feature movie trailers, celebrity news, and behind-the-scenes footage geared toward an increasingly Hollywood-starved public. It took a few years to raise the capital – Mruvka estimates he weathered about 400 rejections – but in 1987, E! Entertainment Television made its debut.
The channel was an immediate success; three months after E! launched, a conglomerate of cable companies came together and offered to buy a stake in the network for $50 million. After running the channel for nearly ten years, Mruvka sold all his interest in the company. Today, E! has an estimated worth of more than $10 billion.
Mruvka went on to produce several TV and film projects. In 2001, he decided to reinvest his energy in real estate and architecture. One day, his assistant mentioned the Ironworks Building as an interesting candidate for renovation. “I was thinking, I don’t know anything about Riverside. I’ve never been to Riverside. I don’t want to go to Riverside,” he recalls.
Now that he’s been to Riverside, Mruvka doesn’t want to leave. In spite of the sorry state of the current business climate, he’s eternally optimistic about the Inland Empire, which collectively boasts a population of about four million people. “It’s the most overlooked real estate in Southern California,” he claims.
Today, if you stroll through downtown Riverside, you won’t hear that lonely harmonica soundtrack echoing from abandoned buildings anymore. But if you keep your ears pealed, you will hear the sound of opportunity knocking.

When Jerry Schneiderman surveys the urban landscape of Los Angeles, he sees it contracting. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. There’s never been a shortage of grousing over the time Angelinos spend driving from home to work and back again. Scientific studies have been conducted to measure how many life-years are lost in the concrete cattle crawl—be it on freeways, surface streets, or a combination of both.

“Over the next ten to twenty years, L.A. is going to look more like Tokyo,” predicts Schneiderman, whose company Creative Environments of Hollywood (CEH) specializes in converting existing buildings to fit modern usage demands. The idea of hybrid live/work spaces is not new – it’s just been updated for the times. In other parts of the world, where available space is more finite, survival in an urban environment has depended on such duality.

Schneiderman’s company has taken existing buildings, some nearly a century old, and turned them into hip enclaves tailored for the young, creative professional. “People want the freedom to set the hours they work,” says Schneiderman. But they also prefer an interactive and collaborative setting where they can bounce ideas off one another. We keep the space as flexible as possible. The more we build in, the less they like it. There is no cottage cheese ceiling, no built-in closets. We keep it as open as possible; tenants create their own spaces.”

One such site, Cosmo Lofts, located in the heart of revitalized Hollywood, was a furniture warehouse in a previous life. The new design celebrates the building’s functional past by highlighting the original concrete floors, high ceilings, and fluted columns. Narrow spiral staircases wrap around steel support beams, leading to open lofts. A windowed wall welcomes all the natural light the sky has to offer, and there’s a clear view of the beckoning Hollywood Hills.

The CEH offices are located at Lacy Studio Lofts in Lincoln Heights, one of L.A. County’s oldest districts. Vice-Chairman Howard Sadowsky gives me a guided tour of the compound. The main building, he reveals, previously housed a strip club. As I skillfully sidestep the ghosts of pole dancers past, Sadowsky takes me to the construction arm of the operation, where CEH makes its own steel. This allows the company to reap the added benefit of using a stronger, more durable material at a much lower cost: about the same price as using wood. “A lot of companies outsource, but we decided to do it in-house,” he explains with palpable pride.

The target demographic for these units, Sadowsky says, is young, creative types who are drawn to the city for its stimulating mix of variety and convenience. “They’re buying a community environment, where they can share ideas, business to business,” he says. And don’t expect to find an on-site gym anywhere. “What we do is very much a reflection of what our tenants want.” Classical and neo-classical architecture and buildings with a colorful history trump the tricked-out modern amenities.

Another CEH property, Westmoreland Lofts, is situated about halfway between Hollywood and Downtown. The building’s industrial character pays tribute to its past as a fabric dyeing factory and warehouse. Original factory windows and skylights deliver sweeping city views and generous natural light.

Schneiderman tells me L.A.’s Adaptive Reuse Ordinance has been a major reason CEH has been able to update close to 1 million square feet of real estate. The ordinance does not require adding disabled access features as a contingent to remodeling. Adding an elevator and still preserving the architectural integrity of some buildings, he says, is just not feasible.

The beauty of providing floor plans that are open rather than compartmentalized is that tenants are free to make the space their own. “One tenant built his entire loft with a floor of Plexiglas,” Schneiderman says. To maximize the work aspect of the space, renters will adapt their living quarters to suit their needs. “[Another] built an entire rolling bedroom that was suspended from the ceiling and could roll from one side to the other, complete with dividers.” A third unit has been customized with a bed that can be lowered electronically from the ceiling.

“Living at the office” used to describe people who sacrificed their personal lives in a futile attempt to catch up to an insurmountable work load. Today, it implies the savvy metropolitan chic of those who work smart and integrate high productivity into their daily lives. “The economy—and our way of life—is changing,” Schneiderman assures me. “Eliminating long commutes and minimizing our dependence on the volatile fuel market is essential if we want to compete with the rest of the world.” 

words by Jen Kay

With the recent ring of fire surrounding Southern California, it just may be the end of the world as we know it. Now is the time to call on Mad Max and his survival crew to provide safety and comfort for those left behind. Sci-Fi inspired Hildebrand Construction seems equally equipped for doomsday, surviving the fire storm – and building earthquake, flame, and hurricane resistant monolithic domes. Their unique design aesthetic and ingenious structural creations jet us into the space age, and all we need now are hovercrafts to complete our futuristic fantasies.
Until recently monolithic domes were built for utilitarian purposes, and as such the design choices were limited; however, the structural strength of a reinforced concrete shell allows for some spectacular design concepts. For starters, up to 40% of the dome can be glass (or other materials) without compromising its integrity. Imagine living in a post-modern snow globe! The diversity of the design is actually afforded these structures by the inherent strength of the dome shape.
The domes can be built into a hill or mountain, on or in terrain where conventional housing might be more difficult to implement. The ideal locale for these structures is within natural and secluded landscapes to take advantage of the monolithic dome’s strongest aesthetic and functional feature – the panoramic views. Current custom plans include free hanging mezzanine floors, see-through vacuum elevators, and self-heating pools built into the dome top, which most certainly will have all the cool kids nudging at their parent’s credit card. “I want a dome home with a
Jacuzzi on top! Now Daddy!”

Company founder Dan Hildebrand comments on his inspiration: “Art Deco styling has inspired my work and some of the early concrete work in the 40’s and 50’s. Concrete is this fantastic material that allows you to turn fluid forms into permanent fixtures and structures – and the cathedral sized caves of Indonesia certainly gave me a few ideas.”
As part of his world dome-i-nation plan, Hildebrand (an alumni of the Monolithic Dome Institute, est. 1998 by the field’s leading monolithic engineers) has launched a non-profit, DomesForHomes.org whose mission is to build smaller versions of the domes, called “EcoShells”, in developing countries. Using a special balloon-like airform mold and reinforced concrete, the shell of a two story family house can be built in a single day. For warmer climates, the added feature of self-insulation is a notable advantage (dome interior temperatures can be up to 20 degrees lower than outside).
After the Java earthquake (May, 2006) in the Indian Ocean 15 miles south of the Indonesian city of Yogyakarta, Hildebrand received funding from WANGO and working with the non-profit arm of the Monolitchic Dome Institute headed out to Indonesia to build a community of dome homes for under $5,000 each. In just six months they completed 71 Eco-Shell family houses, six communal washrooms, an education center, a place of worship, and a clinic. Indonesian craftspeople were hired and trained to use the construction equipment, which was left behind so that construction could continue after the crew had trekked onto their next mission.
What would be Hildebrand’s dream dome backdrop? “A section of the Hollywood Dell has a plot with a view of the city that is crying out for a Dome,” says Hildebrand. “I already have plans for a dome with a glass pool in the roof, a huge media room/recording studio, and a whole floor dedicated to entertaining.”
The construction of a Hildebrand-built community dome is the latest project under the hammer in New Orleans – where most residences are positioned below sea level. That fact alone hosts a whole new set of challenges for the dome crew. Domes For Homes will continue philanthropic efforts in India, Fiji, Australia, Haiti and Java, while Hildebrand Construction introduces the US and UK consumer markets to homes fit for The Jetsons – making Round the new Black. Don’t be square.

Young Israel Synagogue

Efficient use of space has long been one of the tenets of architecture. But a fundamental shift is taking place — that from preference to necessity. Nowhere is this more true than in New York City, where housing, commercial, and public space needs continue to escalate while the city’s physical dimensions remain unchanged. 

+Housing: 2008 AIA New York Designs for Living Exhibition demonstrates that aesthetics need not be sacrificed in the name of practicality. The installation, which features eight projects, is on display at the Center for Architecture in Greenwich Village until January 19, 2009. 

Exhibit curator Alexandra Lange recently offered h her perspective on the value that hybrid buildings bring to a major metropolitan area. 

h: What was the impetus for +Housing? 

Alexandra Lange: Keeping New York City livable requires that we maintain the essential public life of the city: economic diversity through affordable housing and job creation, cultural diversity through spaces to display but also to create the arts, energy through parks and recreation programs. The result is a series of hybrid types, school + Housing, theater + Housing, museum + Housing, even in the case of St. Vincent’s, hospital + Housing—hence the name of the show. 

Greenbelt

AL: Two projects featured in the exhibit, GreenBelt and the Renaissance Ballroom, reuse and will reuse existing structures. The former kept a few walls of their site’s original plumbing warehouse as part of the entrance and performance space on the first floor; the latter will preserve the historic facades of Harlem’s Renaissance ballroom and casino, while inserting new community and cultural spaces, as well as a residential tower,
behind them. 

h: Is green building a by-product of solving the space issue or is it an integral part of the solution? 

AL: More and more new development in NYC is green, and there are several projects in this show which are or will be LEED certified, including GreenBelt and Archstone Clinton. 

h: There are eight projects represented in the exhibit. Can you touch on the general similarities and distinctions among them? 

AL: This phenomenon is occurring all over the city, and at what we show to be a variety of scales, from GreenBelt (shown above)—sort of the mascot for the exhibition, with a handful of condominiums and a first-floor performance and rehearsal space—to Anable Basin (below left), which may include not only waterborne arts spaces but artist studios over galleries, riverfront parks, and greater integration of new and old on the Long Island City waterfront. In between GreenBelt and Anable Basin in size are Archstone Clinton and the Young Israel Synagogue (photo opposite page). Like GreenBelt, both allow a historic neighborhood use to remain—theaters in the first case, a synagogue in the second—while increasing density and potentially amenities for their respective areas. Archstone Clinton, like GreenBelt, is a sustainable project, another aspect of urban livability for the future. 

h: Are there demonstrable economic advantages to multi-purpose building/renovation? What are some other advantages, other than the obvious (more practical usage of space)? 

AL: In some cases, like Beekman Tower, the developer got additional floors up top in exchange for building a public school. Partnering with a religious or community institution can also trigger zoning changes that increase a project’s buildable area. Less cynically, some developers feel an arts institution adds prestige to their building. In the case of GreenBelt, the investors were willing to take less profit to include a performance space on the first floor, allowing artists to remain in a neighborhood that had been a haven but is becoming increasingly high-rent. 

h: Has the dismal state of the economy affected the intended impact of
your exhibit? 

AL: The economic situation certainly changed from April, when I started planning, to October, when the show opened. Yes, these are all boom projects, when it seemed as if the desire for market-rate condominiums was endless. But now that the bubble has burst, I believe there is still room and need for this kind of strategic partnership. It is still a model
that can work. 

Anable Basin

John Sedlar is on a mission. The renowned chef has long been an advocate of Latin cuisine. Soon, he will have two outlets–one gastronomic and one cultural–with which to champion that cause. 

Rivera, his new fine dining eatery, is scheduled to open in late November. Sedlar says his chief objective is to break stereotypes that people have about Latin dishes: Namely, that they’re simple and unimaginative. 

The second element of Sedlar’s culinary endeavor is Museum Tamal, an interactive museum that will showcase the rich history, innovations, and ingredients of Mexican, Central American, Spanish, and
Southwestern U.S. fare. 

It’s been an uphill battle, he says, but the public is beginning to warm up to the styles of the Latin kitchen, which favors roasting and charring foods with natural, bright colors and seasonings. “For a long time, Latin American cuisine was perceived as second-class,” Sedlar says. “There was a general resistance. Even if a dish had lobster, people thought, ‘if it’s Mexican, it must be $6.95.’ Now, it’s starting to take its place alongside other emerging cuisine such as Chinese.” 

Sedlar says the search is still underway for a permanent home for Museum Tamal, but he knows it will be somewhere in downtown L.A., close to the South Park area, which he calls the “ground zero” of the area’s indigenous culture. “We’ve started to assemble exhibits. There’s a collection of exhibitions on ingredients, techniques of the cooking processes, flavor profiles, and food origins,” he explains. “In the convents, the nuns cooked extensively with various kind of flowers, including marigolds, rose petals, pansies…. The floral flavors were infused into the sauces and the petals were also used as garnishes.” 

To create the look and feel he envisioned for his restaurant, Sedlar turned to architect Eddie Sotto. The two had previously worked together on the Encounter Restaurant at LAX. Sotto wanted to create a modern Mayan feel and accentuate the long, rectangular shape of the space, which occupies the ground floor of the Met Lofts on Flower Street.

The restaurant is divided into three rooms, each with its own character. The more formal Spanish room emphasizes the vibrant culture right down to the lamps, which are fashioned as conquistador helmets. The Samba Room, done up in oranges, mustard yellows and leather, also includes a cocktail bar. The ceiling, ascending like layers on the inside of a pyramid, is Mayan inspired, says Sotto. Finally, the Playa Bar is a nod toward how people are eating today, with tapas, sushi, and artistically presented toppings like cilantro, chiles (jalapeño, guajillo, serrano), charred pasilla,
and candied and roasted garlic.

A visual centerpiece of Rivera integrates bottles of tequila (custom-bottled for the restaurant) that can be removed for customers. Blocks of stone house the bottles, which form an exterior of glass “ribbons” complemented by walnut carved in repeating patterns. The tasting chairs adhere to a similar design. Even the cap on each tequila bottle is solid walnut etched with the same pattern. The bronze exterior introduces the theme before patrons even enter the restaurant. “We wanted a different color scheme for the flooring,” says Sotto. “We used a Brazilian bamboo marbled with
stripes of bright green.” 

The menu will feature selections that incorporate “molecular gastronomy” which utilizes light, savory foams that vary in consistency from shaving cream to cappuccino foam, according to Sedlar. “There’s a big interest in lightening food,” he says. “Even the French are reducing their creams and butter.” 

 Sedlar says Rivera will be the premier Latin restaurant on the West Coast. In spring 2009, the restaurant will give a preview showing of three to five exhibits that will be permanent installations at Museum Tamal. Stay tuned: with financial backing expected to be in the $25–35 million range, the museum, when completed, will give downtown L.A. the cultural clout to match the rich history and flavors of Latin cuisine. For more information, go to: www.museumtamal.org 

When the Nokia Theater and Plaza opened across from the Staples Center in October of last year, it was an alluring addition to the neighborhood: A 7,100-seat premier entertainment venue flanked by 40,000 square feet of open-air plaza with humungous LED display screens. And there’s more to come. Much more.

Later this year, the complex will welcome an array of restaurants and clubs, as well as the Grammy Museum and the ESPN West Coast Broadcast Headquarters. In 2009, work begins the hotel/residence phase. It’s enough to make New York’s Times Square seem quaint by comparison.

The ambitious project, known as L.A. LIVE, will extend more than a full six city blocks: That’s 27 acres, or 5.6 million square feet, if you prefer. The price tag? Close to $2.5 billion when all’s said and done.

“We started creating a master plan for this right around time the Staples Center broke ground in 1998,” says Ted Tanner, senior VP of real estate for Anschutz Entertainment Group (AEG), which is managing the project. AEG also own the Staples Center. “There’s no direct model for what we’re doing here,” he continues. “It’s quite remarkable….We basically put the Rockefeller Center, Madison Square Garden, and Times Square in a tight, urban location.”
Club Nokia, a 2,300-person capacity venue, will open in December, as will The Conga Room and about a dozen restaurants, including ESPN Zone, Katsuya, The Farm of Beverly Hills, Fleming’s, Rosa Mexicano, and a new Wolfgang Puck eatery.

The Grammy Museum will also celebrate its opening with a gala event. The facility will feature interactive and distinctive artist/music exhibits – both permanent and traveling, a 200-seat performance theater, and a rooftop event space. “It will be the permanent home to the Grammys,” says Tanner. “It contributes to the rich cultural landscape and reaches out to young kids, emphasizing art and [the] science [used] to create music.”

In late 2009, Phase 3 begins. Plans call for a JW Marriott & Ritz-Carlton Hotel, which together will house 1,001 guest rooms and 224 luxury condos. The two buildings will be adjoining, but will operate as separate entities. “The hotel is 54 stories,” he says. “It’s an iconic building with great views; there are no other high-rises to interrupt full ocean or city sightlines.” Work is expected to be completed by 2011. “[The Ritz] will be the first luxury hotel-sponsored condo project ever in L.A. and will set the benchmark for downtown urban high-end living,” says Tanner. “We’ve already sold 130 units.”

Tanner points out that the architecture of L.A. LIVE bears similarity to the Nokia Theater and Staples Center in terms of aesthetics and materials used. “We went with contemporary metal and glass wall treatments, but used warmer stone materials in areas of pedestrian traffic. We used similar set-backs to allow for 8-to-15 ft. walk space and double rows of street trees. All restaurants were obligated to put tables outside to create a livelier pedestrian area.”

Tanner mentioned that from the very beginning, the city saw the project as a way to drive business back to the Convention Center, located adjacent to Staples Center. “We’ve had great cooperation from the mayor, the development commission, and the planning commission. The city has been very helpful.”

Yes, as usual, L.A. has been getting some cosmetic “work” done. But this is deeper than a facelift, more extensive than lipo, and infinitely more impressive than a pert, new set of 38DDs.

Chicago has Wrigley Field. Boston has Fenway Park. Historic Yankee Stadium is closing after this season, but New York still has Madison Square Garden. 

The architecture of sports facilities – arenas, stadiums, fields, or parks – can add flavor to a city’s identity. When the Staples Center opened in 1999, it revitalized an area of the city that was just another nondescript piece of land surrounded by ribbons of concrete. Five professional sports teams took up residence there. The venue attracted a steady flow of top-shelf entertainers. Architect Dan Meis teamed with real estate mogul Ed Roski to create a world-class venue that could accommodate basketball, hockey, and arena football. In the world of sports facility design, Meis is well-known: Time Magazine has called him one of the most important innovators in the field and Sports Business Journal has twice listed him in its “40 under 40” most influential people in the world of sports. The table is set for Meis to add to that legacy for years to come.

So it’s fitting that, after years of stops and starts, it took a professional reunion of Roski and Meis to add legitimacy to all the talk of building a stadium that would attract an NFL franchise back to the country’s second-largest city after a 13-year absence. “The design is done,” Meis says. “We’re completing a detailed set of drawings in order to finalize the pricing set.” The $800 million stadium, which will sit on land Roski already owns at the intersection of the 60 and 57 freeways (about 20 minutes east of downtown L.A.), will be funded almost completely without the use of public monies. I ask him if the area’s reputation as a magnet for traffic snarls is a liability. “It takes me 40 minutes to get there from the Palisades on a weekday morning,” he claims. “People will be going there on Sunday mornings when there’s not as much traffic.”

The future of event facilities, Meis tells me, is about getting back to the simplicity of integrating with the landscape. “What’s going to be special about this structure is it will be built into the hillside, on dirt rather than on steel – more akin to earlier stadiums. It captures the advantages of Los Angeles. It’ll be an outdoor concourse, 30 to 35 feet across. There’s a garden that will go around the entire building, and people will be able to walk out on a plaza.” Meis and Roski envision the site as not just a game-day destination; they plan to incorporate shops and other attractions, similar to The Grove or Third Street Promenade.

Meis, who considers himself to be somewhat of a sports fan, didn’t set out with the dream of putting his creative stamp on sports venues. For him, it was more about the energy of the environment. Growing up in Colorado, he remembers trips to Mile High Stadium to see the Broncos play. Being in the midst of tens of thousands of people experiencing the same event made an indelible impression on him. He has gone on to design SafeCo Field in Seattle, Paul Brown Stadium in Cincinnati, and he’s currently working on another sports complex in Tokyo. Meis will go to Beijing for the Summer Olympics to specifically see the recently constructed National Stadium. “It’s really an amazing cultural object,” Meis says. “It’s like a horizontal Eiffel Tower.”

Meis recently merged his company, Meis Architects, with Aedas – the world’s fourth largest architecture firm. He is enthused about the prospect of leveraging his L.A. experience into designing buildings around the globe that are geared toward live events. “I’m attracted to what makes people’s hearts pound. Creating buildings that enhance the experience is not a lot different than what Walt Disney did.”

Meis predicts that Los Angeles Stadium could be completed by 2010, but the 2011 season is a more realistic target for the debut of a new NFL franchise in Los Angeles. “No matter how perfect the stadium is, you need a team.” Then he adds, “No one would blindly go to the expense without having some interest. Ed has been consistent in being willing to do whatever possible to bring the NFL back to Los Angeles.”

Football in Los Angeles? Hey, it could happen.

words by Jason Dean, photo by Robert Todd Williamson

They’ve gotten used to the curious stares when people walk by their house. If the gate is left open, kids come in and play in the yard. Two months out of the year, their property is a construction zone. Oliver Hess and Jenna Didier welcome such intrusions. Part workshop, part gallery, part playground, their home is an architecture and landscape research collective; which means they build really cool stuff, showcase designers, and engage the community. 

Didier, who moved to Silver Lake in 2002 because she liked the artistic flavor of the neighborhood, formed Materials & Applications (M&A) as a means of exploring architecture and design outside the realm of typical commercial, residential, and gallery-based projects. 

I paid a visit to 1619 Silver Lake Blvd., where I was met by Hess, who is co-director of M&A, which in true communal spirit, is 100% volunteer-driven. “When people figure out what we’re doing, they want to help,” he says. 

He invites me inside to escape the sweltering heat, and the subject inevitably turns to water. Didier’s fountain design company, Fountainhead, has undertaken a rainwater collection project and is using the fountain near the entrance as a “water lab” for conservation studies. 

“We’re not so much ‘green’ as we are ecologically efficient,” explains Hess. 

Every six months, M&A constructs a new piece that takes center stage in the courtyard. The projects they are looking for, Hess says, should serve some social good and offer commentary on how we use our space. M&A gets anywhere from 30 to 50 submissions each year to consider for exhibition. 

The current attraction, “Phalanstery Module”, was submitted for a competition on zero gravity. The installation will be on display until September. Conceived by architect Jimenez Lai, the piece is a large hollow cylinder encircled by two wheels on gears on which it rotates at a clip of six degrees per minute, or one complete revolution per hour. Inside, pedestals, shelves, and some hi-tech translucent paneling provide structure to a shifting environment that requires the occupant to change positions periodically to adapt to the inevitability of gravity. The interior can accommodate six people fairly comfortably. Sitting inside has a hypnotic effect, but any daydreaming is short-lived. 

The piece that brought M&A to widespread attention was the “Maximilian’s Schell” installation. On display from June 2005 to January 2006, the piece was a massive gold canopy made of separate, tinted mylar tiles that converged into a central black hole. One main consideration for projects they decide to do, Hess says, is durability. Designs are built to be on display, exposed to the elements, for six months. “We also try to design things that have an afterlife,” he says. 

More than 30 people had a hand in physically creating Phalanstery Module. Nicholas Blake, Hess’s first boss when he worked in the world of animation special effects, serves as lead fabricator and helps guide the engineering process. “We invite people in the community to share, help, and learn,” offers Hess. M&A hosts a lecture series and is involved in outreach programs. “The best part about doing this is hearing kids outside playing. We try to create hopeful spaces,” he continues. “We want people to feel welcome.” 

Originally from Minnesota, Didier studied architectural theory and moved to San Francisco, where she designed robot art. She wanted to get into set fabrication, but instead found herself designing rides in theme parks. Having established Fountainhead before moving to L.A., Didier formed M&A in 2002, joined soon after by Hess, who helped put into motion the vision she had for the company. In 2006, she, Hess, and artist Marcos Lutyens formed infranatural, the business from which they promote their own design proposals. 

Currently, they have an ambitious “kinetic bridge structures” project for downtown L.A. that is set for approval pending completion of impact reports and other municipal formalities. “The rules go on forever,” says Hess. “Everything from how horses would integrate to no reflective material. But there were no creative restrictions.” We then hop in the car to visit Didier, who is at the site of a new conservation effort by the Silver Lake Green Committee. We pass by the depleted Silver Lake Reservoir, and Hess assures me that L.A.’s water situation is beyond dire. We pull into a small parking lot behind a nail salon at Rowena and Hyperion. Didier describes an ecologically efficient scenario of how the space will be reconfigured. Fruit trees and herbs will be planted. A water collection system will be used to catch rainwater. “Building parking lots contribute to a lot of water waste,” she says. “[The project] is a demonstration of something that’s simple to do and it has multiple benefits.”