We were in SoCal visiting family over the winter break a few months ago - so yes, this post is overdue. My wife's family lives in DHS, a small town situated just to the north of Palm Springs at the base of the San Bernardinos where the 62 snakes its way up toward Joshua Tree. So we were close to some lovely mid century houses to go gawk at. That was one of our list of to do's while we were there: 1) gawk at mid century houses on Racquet Club, 2) hit Long Beach Flea Market and antique stores, 3) hit PS antique stores (which are overpriced now, but nicely stocked with more credenzas than you can shake a stick at), and 4) hit the local thrift stores.
Palm Springs is one of the meccas of the Mid Century Modern ethic. From the visitor's center in an awesome 1950's service station (shown to the right as it was back in the day, Mt. San Jacinto behind), where you can fill up on gaudy T-shirts, PS mugs, bumper stickers, and fridge magnets. The Palm Springs Modernism Week, which happens once a year in mid February, is a weeks-long celebration of mid 20th century architecture, celebrity, automobiles, clothing, and, of course - furniture; in short, pretty much everything vintage. The first time I went to modernism week was either 2011 or 2012, and it was fantastic. The show - the showcase of largely furniture, glass, and jewelry cost something like $20 bucks to get in to, came with a nice glossy program, and had some amazing pieces - including a Bill Curry hexagonal shelving unit for Design Line. There is a company in England now that reproduces almost exact copies of that, but they won't ship to the US. Bastards.
But Racquet Club Drive, if you're ever in PS and you have an interest in mid century architecture is a necessity. Just find a place to park, and go for a walk - that is, if you're there between October and June. If you're there in July, August, or September, keep the AC on, and just drive the streets slow. There are a bunch of little dead end side streets around and off of Racquet Club to explore as well, so just keep going. Most of these places have now been remodeled and flipped, and most are in the upper 6 figures if you're in the market, but there are still some around for the person who would rather do the work themself. It's fun to pick up the local real estate rags and see what is on the market. Maybe set up a couple of viewings to get a peek at the interiors of some of these places. We went to a few open houses when we were down here a few years ago. A lot of these places are smaller and more modest than you think from looking at them from the outside and have almost a typical 1950's or 60's ranch floorplan - albeit more open, with the kitchen generally opening onto the main living area.
Most of these places are meticulously landscaped, with WAAAYYYY too much green grass for the southern California desert climate. The Coachella Valley has 124 golf courses and has been in severe drought for a decade. The drought was so bad, that entire farms in the central valley were shut off from water - families had to watch their decades-old, mature almond and citrus orchards die from a lack of water during the drought, but the PS golf courses - no they are far too important to the local economy or something. One thing that you can probably tell rubs me the wrong way is all of the beautiful greenery in PS. It's lovely to look at, but the desert should not be green - at least to the extent that PS is green. But I digress.
Many of the houses in PS are going xeric - which is to be applauded. Xeriscape is the new buzzword. In fact, local governments are giving homeowners small one-time payments to remove their water-thirsty lawns and put in more appropriate desert-specific plantings, ornamentals, ground covers, and hardscape. As you can see in the photos below, this can be done very effectively, and can generate very substantial savings on your water bill if you live in southern California - trust me, I used to live there. The simplicity - and make no qualms about it - modernism is all about simplicity an d lack of clutter; almost zen in some ways... the simplicity of stark, tidy, pavements of cobbles broken by non-linearly-placed monolithic, poured concrete paving surfaces and punctuated with a series of similar (or even identical) plantings is amazingly powerful. And simple.
As you brows through these facades, ask yourself if these would work as well as they do if the plantings were more complex - if there were more species, or if the plantings were not so symmetrical. And the color palettes are simple - both in terms of the landscape and the architecture. Nearly monochromatic in many instances, with color used sparsely to highlight a door, or a mailbox, or a breezeway. In the desert, white is a necessity - hence the majority of these houses being painted white. The albedo - the reflectance off of white is greater than for any other color, and this is an effective way to help reflect some of the sun's rays away and to help lower summer cooling bills.
The combination of the long, low-slung single stories, the low-angle pitched roofs - the simple monochromatic horizontality works so amazingly well juxtaposed to the grass-like vertical palms. Add in just the right splash of color on a door and it is just right. Orange, green, and teal blue - all bright and saturated, seem to be the colors of choice. But materials are also highlighted - corrugated galvanized metal, stucco, cedar, and even stone facing - all work equally well to break up the long, low vertical lines and to keep the eye interested.
And the vibrant blue of the atmosphere in the desert frames the whole image just right. I miss that light!
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