Quietly Building a Following
In the spirit of Frank Lloyd Wright, architect Ken Kellogg has created his own realm in the world of architecture.
Since he designed his first house in Mission Beach in 1957, Kellogg has produced a body of work that makes him one of San Diego’s few originals. Crafted of stone, wood and other natural materials related to nature in Wrightian fashion, Kellogg’s buildings, most of them houses, all look different, but a singular aura is pervasive.
With their flowing, open floor plans, curving walls and swooping roof lines, the houses seem to spring skyward from roots deep in the earth, naturally grown. His knowledge of energy conservation allows the maximum use of glass, so that the hand-crafted wood and stone interiors of his homes seem to merge with the outdoors.
Now at the peak of his powers, designing with economy and grace in the same way a mature jazz musician wrings maximum impact from a very few notes, Kellogg, 56, has not achieved the kind of acclaim his talents merit.
The Hoshino chapel, a private wedding chapel in Karuizawa, Japan, completed two years ago, is one of his most profound buildings, yet it has received no coverage in United States design journals--his iconoclastic buildings, often branded as “organic,” don’t fit with the trendier, colorful projects that get media attention.
The chapel is a building of incredible power. A series of concrete arches rises above a stone base like the ribs of some prehistoric creature. Ribbons of glass set between these ribs admit natural light to the interior and give the building an exotic, ethereal glow at night.
Leave it to the Japanese to appreciate yet another idiosyncratic American artist, as they embraced Wright (Kellogg’s spiritual mentor) in the past, and as they continue to consume American architecture and jazz.
Issue No. 29 of GA Houses (a prestigious Japanese design publication), released last year, devoted 49 pages to Kellogg, covering several of his homes and the Hoshino chapel.
Interviewed in Mission Beach at his second home--a raw building of glass, rough wood and concrete he remodeled for his father in the 1960s and where he lives when not at his 80-acre retreat on Palomar Mountain--Kellogg had little to say about the chapel. In fact, he wouldn’t say much about any of his work, and, when asked whether it is difficult to talk about his buildings, he replied, simply, “There’s nothing to say.”
Those who follow Kellogg’s work, however, are in awe of his abilities.
La Mesa wood craftsman John Vugrin is one of them. He has worked on several Kellogg houses over the last 12 years, and he spent five months in Japan in 1988 supervising the construction of the Hoshino chapel.
Vugrin has a straightforward explanation for his appreciation of Kellogg’s work. “His use of materials, his understanding of materials. It’s almost like improvisation. He’s got a structure there, but he’ll improvise according to the needs that arise during the construction process. That always makes it kind of fun, if you’re open to it.”
On the chapel project, Kellogg improvised often, Vugrin said. Construction drawings were redone by the Japanese in Japanese, but the building is so complex, some details didn’t come out as planned.
“A foyer was supposed to have a marble floor, but the Japanese hadn’t ordered enough slabs,” Vugrin said. “They were worried, but I faxed the problem to Ken, and he made a drawing of a different design where they could use the granite they had available instead.
“When it came time to put the stone on the building, he told them to get some rocks and mix up some mortar, and he went in there and showed them how he wanted the stones laid.”
Kellogg’s love of natural materials and respect for the landscape dates to his childhood. He grew up in Mission Beach. His father was a doctor, his mother a nurse and artist who introduced her husband, and eventually, her children to the spiritual Theosophical Society in Point Loma.
“In Mission Beach,” Kellogg remembered, “I had free rein from the time I was 6 or 7 years old. I would put my bathing suit on and never see my parents again until that night. I was born free, a free spirit living in the playground of the Southwest.”
Inspired by Frank Lloyd Wright’s “Fallingwater” house in the 1950s, Kellogg eventually met Wright, and went on to study architecture at UC Berkeley and USC before realizing that his visions of design didn’t fit with formal architectural education.
Since his career began in the late 1950s, his most visible buildings are Chart House restaurants in Rancho Mirage and Jacksonville, Fla., completed in 1979 and 1982, respectively.
These days, Kellogg remains a free spirit, preferring jeans and boots to coats and ties. Although demand for his masterpieces is limited, he has other interests that fill his time.
A self-described “activist,” he is perhaps best known to some San Diegans, especially city planners, for his lobbying efforts on behalf of freedom of expression in architecture.
When Kellogg believes in a cause, he sends off barrages of letters to the media and public officials--single-spaced tirades he taps out on a computer at his Palomar retreat. (The missives read smoother if they’ve been edited by his wife, Marilyn.)
Most recently, and with much satisfaction, he sent out copies of a newspaper article in which renowned architect Charles Moore had denounced design review boards, something Kellogg himself has been doing for years.
In February, the city of San Diego approved a Multifamily Design Ordinance intended to improve the quality of new apartment buildings in neighborhoods that also include a significant number of one- and two-story single-family homes.
On the advice of former city planner Paul Curcio, Kellogg became involved in drafting the ordinance from the beginning as one of several architects who offered their opinions.
The single most important victory achieved by Kellogg and the many architects and planners who agreed with him was to make the ordinance less specific about design details in favor of dictating a “building envelope”--basic size limitations within which architects can create their own visions.
City Architect Mike Stepner, a City Hall veteran who has squared off against Kellogg on various planning issues for more than 15 years, said:
“We’ve been at odds occasionally. While we appear to be at odds, the goals are similar, but the means are different. He has a strong philosophy of protecting the individual rights of the architect, but at the same time, he wants the architect and designer to live up to that philosophy and do quality buildings that are assets to the neighborhoods. We, as the government, want the same things, but in some cases, we feel there has to be guidance given, because not every architect is going to do that quality work.”
To some architects, Kellogg has been an important role model. One of them is Wally Cunningham, a younger San Diego architect who also has roots in Wright.
“It’s tremendous to realize that it’s possible to do something (original) in this day and age, because you receive so little support (for original architecture) from the community as a whole, and absolutely no support from the government and city officials,” Cunningham said.
“Ken easily has created more of a personal architecture than anyone who has ever lived in San Diego. I’m not saying it’s going to have more influence, but it is more personal, and it is internationally recognized.”
Kellogg has four projects in the works: a desert house under construction in Joshua Tree, a Colorado house that will start construction this year, Fairbanks Ranch Country Day School, also under construction, and a mixed-use building in Pacific Beach he has designed for old Kellogg family property that would contain his own office and a restaurant he wants to open. He is also supervising construction of a house in Coronado designed by Los Angeles architect John Lautner, another Wrightian.
Kellogg gets the most attention for his dramatic houses, like a 10,000-square-foot, $4.5-million showplace in Riverside County he has dubbed Wing Sweep, for the way its wings hug the rolling rural terrain. But he emphasizes that he has also designed houses that cost less than $100,000.
Those who know Kellogg point to the family properties he owns in Mission Beach and Pacific Beach, along with the Palomar Mountain retreat and speculate that he doesn’t need to work too hard. But this kind of talk doesn’t please him. He works as hard as anyone, he insists, and, like other architects, he is suffering the pinch of the recession.
The move to an office at the beach, however, could be significant for Kellogg--a return to the mainstream of civilization.
He wouldn’t say much about the new building in Pacific Beach or his possible move--he is waiting for bank financing--but acknowledged that he hopes the greater visibility might bring more commissions.
Maybe these will include non-residential work. The city could use a few Kellogg originals to go with the many houses he has designed.
