A Natural Impulse Ends Sadly Tainted

Chula Vista’s award-winning Nature Interpretive Center has the best intentions, but touches of post-modern glitz taint its solid, basic design.

San Diego architects Winn & Cutri beat out local and national competition to design the project on Gunpowder Point, west of Interstate 5. Other finalists included BSHA, Wheeler/Wimer Architects, C. W. Kim, and Friedson/Robbins & Associates.

The partners have developed a reputation for small, carefully detailed projects that generally don’t give in to superficial trends. Their Culbertson winery in Rancho California combines simple, solid materials in a clean, yet inventive, fashion.

But in Chula Vista, their approach was more complicated, perhaps too much so. The bayfront site made them think of wooden boathouses, and they took their cues from one at Yale. They also had in mind the classical Beaux Arts forms that partner Tony Cutri remembered from the Bronx Zoo, especially large chunks of rusticated stone. These are imitated by the nature center’s stucco panels.

If the pitched roofs and wood siding seem reminiscent of architect Charles Moore’s seminal Sea Ranch homes along the coast of Northern California, that’s because Cutri admires them. In fact, he spent his honeymoon in one.

The siting was a daring move by the architects and apparently helped them win the job.

“Most of the schemes had the center close to the Sweetwater River, 400 yards to the north,” Cutri said. “We wanted it close to the access road, to decrease the distance you drive cars across the marsh.”

Right now, public access is only by shuttle, but paved roads might be added. The center would remain a more serene, enjoyable place if autos were permanently prohibited. The trip in by shuttle is enjoyable. The bus winds along a dirt road past ramshackle greenhouse buildings and between shipyards on both sides of the broad marsh. After rounding a curve, the nature center appears, a forceful man-made object in this natural setting.

A plant that manufactured explosive materials previously was on the site; remnants of old buildings remain. Part of Winn & Cutri’s concept was that the new building rose amid ruins. Fractured edges of a stone wall, for example, carry out the “ruins” idea.

To a point, the architects’ instincts are right. Classical forms, such as large columns (of stucco, not stone), a barrel vaulted roof and slanted buttresses reminiscent of pyramids are gracefully combined. The trussed and beamed roof of the main building is the major element of boathouse revival. Its thick wood pieces seem perfect for the raw natural setting, as does the gray wood siding used on the exterior.

Intentionally, the architects made the building stand out from the landscape.

This is where the problems begin. Even the center’s workers say the mauve and gray colors, used on exterior bands of stucco and on checkerboard tile layouts inside and out, remind them of the Horton Plaza mall in downtown San Diego. From a distance, the colors are relatively attractive, but close up, the effect is more strip center than nature center. The copper roofs are tasteful, but the gimmicky copper (or fake copper) balls on top of the stucco columns are unnecessary. From a distance, the freestanding columns at the back of the main building help balance the composition. But close up, they are superfluous.

Circulation is also a problem. The strong linearity of the main building makes you want to walk straight through the space, toward the light that pours down from tall banks of windows at either end. But the central marsh exhibit blocks your path, spilling over the edges of the main space. Getting through the display is confusing. You have to duck in and out and retrace your steps several times to see the whole exhibit. Indeed, the architects’ original drawings did not anticipate such a large installation.

The display itself, designed by wildlife specialists Rhodes & Dahl, who also did the Monterey Bay Aquarium, is not to be missed. The effect is as if you’ve waded into the marsh and are walking from the bay toward the freeway, examining every layer of life. You can pop your head up into a cubbyhole where a mouse lives, pull a lever to make a bird’s nest rise with the tide, or yank another handle so that a weasel rears up on his hind legs.

A bat ray petting tank was the architects’ idea; kids love it. There’s also a bird-watching platform behind the main building.

A wonderful observation tower at the front of the building provides a view to the north across Coronado to Point Loma, and to the south, to Mexico.

The building’s finishing touch is a $30,000 sand casting on one exterior wall by Ocean Beach artist Charles Faust. This is a piece of ornamentation perfectly suited to the setting, and illustrates what an ample art budget properly applied can achieve.