As Fights Grow Uglier, a Policy Is Vital

The J. Paul Getty Trust’s launching of Preserve L.A., an initiative to support conservation of important examples of L.A. County’s architectural heritage, is welcome not only because the region needs the help, but also as a reflection of the Getty’s growing concern for its extended neighborhood.

However, in Los Angeles there are noir consequences to every good intention. The cause of preservation is complicated by ambiguous standards, community politics and conflicts between and among developers and preservationists. In some cases, NIMBY-minded protectionists suddenly discover aesthetic merit where they never noticed it before.

If the Getty is interested in the long view, as its collections suggest, then it should promote the idea of an overview commission as part of the initiative. This panel would advise elected officials on preservation policy. Key to this panel’s success would be a balanced composition and reputation for even-handedness, a reputation that would depend on a sophisticated knowledge of the issues; access to impartial and respected consultants; and on civic and political leadership. A key function of the commission would be to find acceptable compromises without public confrontations.

Consulting with authorities from the private and public sectors, the Getty should also establish specific preservation priorities, beginning with an inventory of buildings and places of architectural or historic merit, based on clearly stated criteria. There are models for such criteria in other cities.

Some preservation issues are straightforward, though their resolution may be complex. The Central Library is a clear example. But many others are far more complicated. Is it important to preserve buildings, which look like hot dogs, doughnuts or derby hats, because they reflect a moment in popular culture? Is it as important to protect a masterwork of residential architecture as it is to preserve a place of historic importance with no artistic merit? Some preservation ordinances require that 50 years must pass before judgments can be made. The Getty has an opportunity to help Los Angeles sort through these and other issues.

State landmark status is accorded structures that have unusual artistic merit or important historic significance, or sometimes both. When this finding has been made, the structure is protected while the preservation community and government look for an adaptive reuse that satisfies the owner financially, raise the funds to buy the building or try to coerce the owner with a variety of political or media tactics. When the process ends, the owner, who is often a developer, may proceed, though litigation may prolong combat.

This kind of confrontation will increase in Los Angeles, as pressure for development returns to urban areas, where many important buildings remain. Strange coalitions may be formed. For example, environmentalists who favor densification may find themselves aligned with real-estate interests against neighborhoods that use preservation to protect their backyards. At the same time, preservationists may argue with other preservationists about the merit and worth of a building.

While determining long-range plans, some quick decisions will have to be made. Landmarks that lie in the path of development should be given special attention, along with those in need of urgent physical repair, like some of Frank Lloyd Wright’s concrete textile-block houses. It is also necessary to take into account the financial issues associated with preservation, which is usually far less profitable than new construction. Responsible developers who thrive on predictability are more likely to be cooperative when preservation matters are identified in advance. Before making this kind of effort, the political and civic leadership of the city should be consulted, for implementing a fair preservation policy will doubtless require administrative reform and an alert civic conscience.

The conflict over the construction of a new cathedral to replace St. Vibiana, in downtown Los Angeles, demonstrated all the problems that can arise in the absence of an effective preservation policy. If City Hall had intervened early, tensions could have been eased, thus possibly avoiding the escalating distrust between the preservation community and the archdiocese. Many who had fought on the same side in previous preservation battles ended up on opposing sides here. Some insisted the building had to be saved. Others saw St. Vibiana as historic but not significant architecture and talked about salvaging a kind of trace architectural memory.

As the atmosphere deteriorated, it became impossible even to consider related issues of great importance. For example, a new cathedral on the old site, surrounded by open properties, might have been beneficial to development in downtown Los Angeles and to the preservation of the old business center nearby, with its important collection of respected buildings, including the National Bank of Commerce on Hill Street, between 4th and 5th streets.

We can expect similar controversy over the future of the Ambassador Hotel and Van De Kamp’s Bakery at San Fernando and Fletcher, near Los Feliz.

Los Angeles made its most important contributions to architecture in the last century. In this most private of U.S. cities, most of these celebrated buildings are residential, though the ideas and attitudes they explore have had broad implications for other building types. Chicago is the only other city with a comparable modern architectural heritage.

In redefining the modern house, the mission of architecture was also redefined, and this established a local design culture that has matured to influence buildings of all kinds around the world. The explorations that Frank O. Gehry made in his residential work--making the unexpected out of ordinary materials and construction practice--owe something to the oxygen let into the system by the Eames house, which was built of parts ordered from an industrial catalog. The remarkable development of Los Angeles architecture has had its culmination in Gehry’s museum in Bilbao, Spain, but the way was prepared by Irving Gill, Wright, Rudolph Schindler, Richard Neutra, the Case Study houses and many other local examples. Gill’s Dodge house, a masterpiece, was destroyed in 1970. Several Wright, and perhaps Schindler, buildings are at risk, and who knows what else?

But the preservation of residential architecture presents special problems. Even when donated to universities as a residence or conference center, public visitation, and especially maintenance, can be a continuing problem.

Public structures that participate actively in community life offer a different set of problems that involve multiple players and extended negotiations. While the Placita and Olvera Street area is a state historic park, its potential has hardly been realized because of various political and commercial conflicts. Numerous important structures of historical and architectural interest, including the Pico House and the Merced Theater, remain underutilized or vacant. Vacant parcels, like missing teeth, further detract from what could become a center of Latino culture and a place of pride and activity for all Los Angeles. The buildings are not threatened, but the indifference to what could happen--for example, new buildings and adaptive re-use of the old--is a failure of civic energy. It is a failure arising from the same void the Getty has identified.

We live in a weightless time, and our young city is without a substantial sediment of architectural history. Because this has been our advantage in some ways does not mean we should value less that which is precious--perhaps the more precious because we tend to move so fast and leave too little of value behind. Certain anchors in memory are necessary to humane urban growth. Better to value and use the past rather than build a future based on phony imitations. Better to care more about what we presently build, especially with public funds. How else to build the landmarks of the future for others to preserve?