On this bittersweet morning—I just walked by the Grammy Museum where the staff was placing a memoriam outside and preparing for big crowds—the show must go on, and we’ll all do our best to make Michael proud (one look at Neverland Ranch would confirm he was an avid fan of home design). After writing over at Dwell.com about many of the speakers, exhibitions and events for the last six weeks or so, I’ll be liveblogging the Dwell on Design conference at Dwell.com today. If you’re here, come say hi. We can reminisce about our favorite Michael Jackson song.
Last Friday, I finally got called down to the courthouse for my first jury summons in 31 years. I took the bus (of course) downtown, arriving at 7:30am as ordered, ready to shuffle slowly through the metal detector with 100 of my fellow citizens.
The Stanley Mosk Courthouse is not the worst public building in downtown Los Angeles by any means—one of the architects that worked on it was Paul Williams, who designed plenty of my other faves around town—but it’s not the kind of place you can see yourself being trapped for eight hours a day, debating right vs. wrong. It’s sterile and cold and impersonal. But maybe that’s how justice should be served.
After locating my juror room, they made an announcement that anyone not able to stay the full duration of the day needed to go elsewhere to reschedule their service. I had a conflict, so I picked up a pink piece of paper with instructions that directed me to another building around the corner where I’d spend the rest of the morning.
The Hall of Records—besides having a much cooler, law-superhero kind of name—was definitely a far more attractive and interesting building.
Yes, your honor, I’d much rather perform my civic duties in a Neutra building! This 1962 building designed by the famous modernist was actually built as a warm, more natural response to the frigid corporate towers of the time. It even has some sweet energy-efficient features, like those vertical aluminum fins that run the length of the windows, reflecting glare and creating shade. But it turned out that the guarantee of a fair trial does not include the right to good architecture. My service was rescheduled for another day. And when I returned, I’d report once again to the sugar cube down the street.
But not before I’d return to this very same corner roughly eight hours later. In a bizarre coincidence (that’s not too odd when you realize that I pretty much always travel along the same public transit routes) I ended up right back here after going to West Hollywood and then coming back downtown to go to another event. I spent a few minutes recalling the fond moments I’d spent within the Hall of Records.
Later, taking the long way home through Chinatown, I paused to document another significant architectural landmark, ABC Seafood. It’s not so much notable for its design as it is for its location.
Which is right around the corner from an aptly-named competing seafood network.
Way back in February when this blog celebrated its first birthday, several readers joined in the celebration with me and made a wish. It was a wish for gelato. Not the kind you eat, but the kind you wear. Although I am apparently highly skilled at finishing the kind you eat, I was less successful at finishing the kind you wear. So for those readers, that wish took a long time to come true. A very long time. A very, very long time. So long, in fact, that this blog is now almost a half-year older. But eventually, it did come true, and thanks to a temperamental machine that likes to call itself Singer (but should really consider changing its name to Suckier), I have completed those Gelatobaby Patches for my faithful gelat0-lovers. A taste:
Chocolate hazelnut and milk chocolate.
Peach and cherry (made for eating on long bike rides).
Salted caramel and dark chocolate.
Triple scoop of vanilla, rosewater and tangerine.
If you’re interested in purchasing the kind of gelato you can wear, drop me a line and place your order. It will probably not take me four months to make them this time. You may even get them before Christmas.
Your assumptions are correct: I love things that look cool, sound cool, taste cool, and are illegal in some states.
On a scorching May afternoon when I was not only reading about cool things but also trying to keep cool by working in the coolest room in the house, with my face pressed to the cool hardwood floor, I received a link from my friend Sarah Rich, an editor at Dwell: Architecturally-significant ice cream sandwiches with flavors named things like Frank Behry and Neutrapolitan. I leapt from my sweaty pool on the floor and rejoiced! It was a trifecta.
Not only did the ladies who owned this hot pink-and-silver truck slapped with magnetic headshots of architects love ice cream and design as much as I, they had paired it beautifully with wordplay. If we we didn’t end up being best friends, we certainly would make great nemeses.
But things went smoothly from there, as ice cream-related friendships often do. And a few weeks ago, atop the funny lump of a hill that holds the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed Hollyhock House, as the sun barely set over a gloomy Los Angeles, as intrepid drinkers clinked rosés plucked by Silverlake Wine, Gelatobaby met Coolhaus. All archi-puns aside, Natasha Case and Freya Estreller have the foundations down for a good sandwich: built-to-order, on soft cookies, with the option of an edible rice paper wrapper. It was love at first Mintimalism bite. I also somehow walked away from this meeting with a free six-pack of toilet paper. Which was good, because we were running out.
But this frozen fairy tale does not end there, my friends. Thanks to my fellow friend-of-cold Sarah Rich, and the folks at Dwell, this encounter quiescently ripened into a full-fledged quest to discover the next master of architecture, ice cream and wit. If you, like me, felt the puns welling up from deep within your inner vat of design knowledge, then you, too, can churn out Coolhaus’ next architecturally-significant flavor over at Dwell’sSweetest Contest Ever.
For the contest winner, there are just desserts. Coolhaus will be serving the best-named sandwich at Dwell on Design’s A Night at the Movies on June 27, the same night you’ll get to see a film by Eric Bricker—who I interviewed for Dwell, and who actually went to my same high school, go Longhorns!—about the most important architectural photographer on the planet, Julius Shulman. Of course, I’m not eligible to win, but I’d like to hope that someone out there has already submitted the most appropriate one: Orange Julius Shulman. Orange sherbet between two fluffy vanilla cookies, served on a contact sheet.
Until then, I encourage you to spread the word about the wonders of Coolhaus as well as this rather delicious parlour game. If you need any licks of inspiration, they’re only a Tweet away.
Trying out something new here on the old G-baby which I hope you’ll like. Actually I’m trying out a few new things, hence the eye-searing pink (if you look at it really hard and then look away, you see green spots!). But one of the new features I want to start doing regularly is sharing what I see while I’m crisscrossing the city on buses, bikes, trains, cabs, cars sometimes driven by other people, and my own two Ecco Biom-ed feet. I snap a lot of photos in transit (and I already use Twitter to talk about it), so this can be a way for me to share all the triumphs and trials of public transportation, plus I hope it will help me to get some posts up a little more regularly. First up, are some bizarre heart-shaped clouds as seen from the Getty, because the sky and I both love LA. The Getty is very easy to take the bus to, and then, of course, admission is absolutely free because otherwise the only (recently-raised) fee charged is for your car.
Another day I snapped a shot of the balconies of the Century Plaza hotel in Century City which looked so lovely as the morning gloom started to lift.
There’s a huge preservation battle going on that could save this building or replace it with several office towers. I never truly appreciated it, or anything in Century City, really, until I had the opportunity to walk to it from Santa Monica Blvd. on my way to the LA Architectural Awards. The soaring 60’s towers and plazas make for a pretty triumphant street, plus you have to love the pedestrian walkway that leads you over the Avenue of the Stars and directly to…a mall. But it’s a nice mall.
The Century Plaza is the gem in this lineup and not just because it’s a worthy foil to the CAA “Death Star” building staring it down across the street. Designed in 1966 by Minoru Yamasaki, who did the World Trade Center in NY, it’s a sweeping, curvaceous, bodacious glamourpuss of a place. My pal Christopher Hawthorne has more on why he thinks it should be saved, too: as an “LA statement.”
And finally in this Street Walker debut, a curiously-named apartment for rent near my house in Silver Lake. Architecture freaks will know why to laugh, but if you don’t, there’s more on why this is funny by my friend Marissa over at Curbed LA. See you on the streets!
About to give a talk on gelato as a catalyst for change at Big City Forum. Serving up five Paciugo flavors pre-talk! http://yfrog.com/157kxj
DnA: Design and Architecture
Tune in to DnA: Design & Architecture, the KCRW show hosted by Frances Anderton on the third Tuesday of every month, where I'm an associate producer. For local design events, check out the DnA calendar.
GOOD Design
An initiative funded in part by Knight Pulse, and co-curated with GOOD creative director Casey Caplowe, GOOD Design asks designers to propose solutions to urban problems, like we did at this Los Angeles event.
de LaB
Design East of La Brea is a monthly party I co-host with Haily Zaki and Marissa Gluck. Almost always east of La Brea. Learn more about past de Labs and sign up for our monthly newsletter.
Spring Show with Gelatobaby
The web-based experience Spring Show with Gelatobaby is a new way to cover live events. This collaboration with Citizen Scholar and Williams & House debuted at the Academy of Art in May.
Last Friday, I finally got called down to the courthouse for my first jury summons in 31 years. I took the bus (of course) downtown, arriving at 7:30am as ordered, ready to shuffle slowly through the metal detector with 100 of my fellow citizens.
