DIY Breeze Block Wall For The Front Entry

PART I

I don't mess around. Over the winter, I had quite a bit of time inside to plan out my spring and summer projects, and now that the warm weather is here, I can't stop. It's like a switch gets thrown and I'm in DIY Bipolar mode. I go until my body breaks and I have to stop for a few days to heal. But I don't want to. Stop. This winter I planned out a couple major projects, now mostly complete: Grade the backyard and finish the retaining wall; put in a walkway (this one is not started yet); build the cedar fence on the one side of the house, and make the front entry more appropriate to the house. We had two ideas that we were pursuing for the front entry. One was partially enclosing it with breeze blocks, the other was using lintels to create a cool modern screen. Unfortunately, the particular lintels that we would need are a dimension that is quite uncommon, and ordering block is prohibitively expensive. We found breeze blocks in town, and in stock at Hebron Masonry Supply for just over 2 bucks a piece. At the right is a render of the original idea. The dimensions of my model are not exact to the house, but close enough to get the idea of the plan. The door (by the way) will not be that yellow! And yes, the plan is for a wood garage door at some point down the road.

DIY A Mid Century Modern Cedar Fence

Spring has finally come to the north, and I've been taking advantage of the warm weather to get things moving along. Our new AC condensor is going in, replacing a true mid century unit which has unfortunately stopped working. This thing is totally cool - open bottom, wood grain vinyl access panel. It worked great - for about the first month we were in this house, then it just gave up. It has to be the original unit that was installed when the house was built, so 60+ years of service is pretty impressive. What does this have to do with a fence you ask? Well, read on.

Picking Through the Morgue: Racquet Club Drive, Palm Springs - One of the Ultimate Mid Century Style Guides

 

Any art student, industrial or interior designer worth their weight in salt will tell you that a morgue is an extremely useful tool. It's a place to store your ideas, fabric scraps, inspirational photos, magazine clippings, etc. Kind of like an old-school Pinterest. And I hate Pinterest. I have a folder on my hard drive that has in it all manner of interesting things. If I see something I like, it goes into my morgue so I can find it again later if I like something about the image, color scheme, house, building, hardscape, or landscape. Then, when I'm modelling in Sketchup, I can quickly brows my morgue file for that thing that I forgot.

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.

Andersen Beauty-Line Windows - A Mid-Century Icon.

Andersen Beauty-Line windows are a true mid-century architectural icon. These windows were/are ubiquitous in all sorts of mid-century building. Andersen produced these windows between 1957 and 1979, and they still have quite a few parts available for them, including hardware and some complete lower sash units. Our ranch was build in 1959, and features three banks of Beauty-Lines - a triple across the front of the living room, a double on the other living room wall, and a double at the back of the dining room - you can see the front elevation in an older post here. The upper sash of the Beauty-Line windows was fixed. The lower sash could be opened, and you could choose between a couple of different options as to how it opened. You could opt for an awning, where the hinge is at the top of the sash and the bottom of the window swings outward via a crank - the screen was on the inside in this version. We have the 'hopper' type lower sash, where the hinge mechanism at the bottom and the sash swings inward from the top. In this version, the insect screen is on the outside.

An Adrian Pearsall Sofa? In Minot? $40? (And, Eventually, How to Reupholster a Sofa)

I found this couch on the Minot Varagesale website last night. Every so often (like once a week), I scour the online classifieds (Craigslist, Bisman, and recently - Varagesale.com) for a set of keywords that don't usually change all that much from week to week: mid century, modern, vintage, vintage couch, vintage patio, homecrest, and a few others. I haven't found a ton of stuff up here, but I have found a few things. But it takes just a few minutes, and it's almost as fun as hitting the thrift stores (which I do every Tuesday). So poking around in Varagesale.com, I came across this sofa under one of my keyword searches. I thought to myself, "Hey, that back... those arms... that looks familiar."

An Intimate Biography of Paul McCobb and My Take on the Planner Group

I used to be spoiled.


I used to live in a location where I had four amazing Craigslist divisions - Los Angeles, the Inland Empire, San Diego, and Palm Springs, all about an hour away. If I waited long enough, I could find nearly anything and at a pretty damn good price. Case in point - the McCobb Planner Group dresser and drawer set pictured to the right. I got those two pieces along with the long 60" coffee table for $400. I couldn't give the guy the cash fast enough. My good friend and lab mate Matt helped load it into his car as pretty much none of it would fit in my Mini.

I've found countless pieces on California CL. I found my amazing couch - a seven foot long amazingly good-looking and perfectly proportioned two cushion job with three birch tapered legs across the front and a tufted back. $25 bucks. It's amazingly comfortable. When I picked it up in a rented Uhaul van, it was a pretty cool woven tan wool fabric. Unfortunately, one side had been mauled by a dog and was held together with packing tape. No bother - I was planning a re-upholstery job anyhow. I found a pair of Bose 901's series I's (now gone sadly), with original chrome tulip bases for $200 bucks in nearly perfect condition.

Spoiled.

I still am, of course, still spoiled by my awesome wife. No, I mean really, really awesome. She's one of those people who can store factoids away for a long time and recall them effortlessly when required. She has a mental inventory of everything I have ever said I wanted, said that I though was cool, or that she had seen me drooling over. She finds these things, and she buys them, and she squirrels them away somewhere - for years sometimes. And then she'll spring one on you.

So one day maybe four years ago - somewhere around this time of the year, my wife asked me if I could be home by 2:30 in the afternoon to take a delivery. I had to juggle some things, but I told her that I could. So I came home from the office around 2pm that day, sat down on my awesome (and as-yet un-reupholstered couch to wait for a delivery. They were late, but not too bad from what I recall - I think they showed up around 3:20pm or so. A couple of guys from Ply-con came to the door and handed me an invoice on a clipboard to sign. I scrawled my signature on the paperwork and they handed a copy to me. From Chicago I think I read. Hmm. They asked me where I wanted 'it', and I told them just to bring 'it' into the living room - I figured that would be where she wanted 'it'. One guy handed me a couple of long, narrowish, solid maple boards in a natural pale sort of honey finish and walked back to the truck. A minute later, the other guy comes back with two thin pieces of masonite maybe with some kind of woven covering and some round aluminum looking... wait a tick. Then they were at the door - and through the door with a blanket-wrapped credenza-shaped mass. As they unwrapped it, I felt like a kid on Christmas morning - stomach trembling and all. And there it was, in our living room. A McCobb Planner Group credenza in the original natural maple finish, and in pretty exceptional condition. My wife walked in about five minutes later - she had tried to be there to see my face when they walked in, but because of traffic on that damned 215, she missed it by five minutes!

So, Who Was Paul McCobb Anyhow? 

Paul Winthrop McCobb was an only child, born June 5th 1917 in Boston Massachusetts to Raymond Winthrop McCobb and Winifred Leontine Caulfield¹. His father, who was born in 1892, seems to have been from Maine and his mother was born in 1897 in Massachusetts. The record of Paul's birth lists the occupation of his father as a salesman². The 1920 census records indicate that the family lived at 38 Walnut Street in Medford, Massachusetts when Paul was 2 years old³, but precious little else seems to be known about Paul's childhood and youth. 1930 census data indicates that the family had moved to 182 Morrison Ave in the town of Somerville, Massachusetts⁴. It also indicates that Paul now also had siblings - a younger brother James, and two sisters - Leontine, and Phyllis. 1940 census data indicates that by the time Paul was in his 20's he was still living at home with his parents, and was still in Sommerville, but now the family was living in a house at 45 Mason Street⁵. That's where the sensus data dries up for clan McCobb. Census data is only currently available until 1940 unless you are the person you're submitting a request about and you fill out a slew of forms. But it's neat to be able to go to your favorite map application with some kind of street view and see some of the places the young Paul and the McCobb family called home.

According to his obituary in the New York Times, by around 1937 or so, Paul McCobb was hired by Jordan Marsh department store as an 'interior designer'⁶; in reality, he was hired as a painter - a job that he got because his father was a buyer there by this time⁷.  One has to wonder if this might have been a seminal influence on his aesthetic sense, or whether he was assigned to pose mannequins in store window displays. Very few images of the Marsh department stores from the 1930s seem to exist, but it would be neat to see some of Marsh's displays from around this time frame. I can imagine Paul arranging late 30's art deco furniture for department store display windows late at night, forming his notions of what good design might be by looking at the evolving furniture of the day and the spatial relationships among and between pieces in the small display areas. You have to remember that there were some quite 'modern' pieces already in production by the late 1930's. Alvar Aalta's Paimio lounge chair (designed 1931) and Marcel Breuer's Wassily chair (designed 1927) are two good examples of very early modern design. I doubt that Marsh department stores would have carried either of these, but as a student of art with a clear interest in design already, Paul would  have likely had a keen interest in what cutting-edge contemporary furniture designers were up to.

Marriage

 

Paul McCobb was married twice during his lifetime. Paul and his first wife, Olga Soika, eventually divorced, but not before they had a son together, Paul W. McCobb Jr (born in NY on 3-7-4^7,8. Little is currently known about where Paul and Olga may have first met, or where they were married, but 1940 census records can give us some clues. Olga lived in Boston at that time, in a house at 12 Minot Street⁹. Yes, you did read that correctly - Paul McCobb's first wife lived on Minot Street in Boston. I'm currently writing this bio in Minot, ND. Sometimes, coincidences are quite surprising. In 1940, Olga was 19 years old, so she would have been born in 1921. Her mother, Mary Soika (Plechistek), who was listed as the head of household, was 53 years old, and was widowed - her occupation was listed as 'dishwasher'. She was taking care of both Olga, and her older sister Sophie. 1930 census data indicates that the father, Conrad, was still alive at that time, and that Olga had another sister as well, Helen Soika. In 1930, Helen was 12, so she could have married and thus not been in the same household in 1940. All three women had worked at least 40 hours the week prior to census data collection⁹. Olga's occupation was listed as a 'stock girl' in a 'specialty store'. Paul's listed occupation on the 1940 census? 'Window decorator' in a 'retail department store'⁵. Now, it's not clear if McCobb was still employed at Jordan Marsh in 1940, or if Olga Soika worked at Jordan Marsh, but it is a reasonable assumption that they both may have worked in the same department store, and that that was where they met. However, other stories suggest that Olga was a model, and that Paul met her at a photo shoot⁷. There are no details known about where the first marriage took place. But, Paul enlisted in the army in 1942 soon after the start of WWII, and it seems that he and his sweetheart may have, as very many Americans did at the time, tie the knot before Paul either was drafted, enlisted, or shipped off to basic training. McCobb's enlistment record (US Army serial number 1130492) indicates that he enlisted on 5-12-42, and that his marital status was 'married'¹⁰. We also know, that because of health issues, the original term of his enlistment (5 years) was reduced, and that he was out of the military soon afterward⁷. Nothing is currently known about why Paul's first marriage was dissolved, but the divorce was finalized on October 20, 19537. Olga retained custody of Paul Jr., but details of Olga Soika's later years seem to be all but unknown; she died on June 5th, 19557.

Paul and Mollie McCobb in an image from a catalog page.

Paul's second marriage to Mary Frances Rogers (she preferred to be called Mollie) lasted the remainder of McCobb's lifetime. Paul and Mary met when McCobb hired her as a colorist for his Paul McCobb Design Associates (PMDA)⁷ after the formation of that company some time after 1945⁶. It is more likely that Mary was hired some time after 1950 when PMDA grew once the Directional Showroom was established⁷. Best estimates place the pair probably meeting some time around 1952 when McCobb also hired Chon Gregory⁷. Later, Chon and Mollie together isolated Paul from most direct dealings with people at PMDA because he had a temper, and could upset the staff⁷. It does seem that the first marriage may have already been ended when he met his second wife, but the timing is curious. This second marriage also produced a child, Melissa McCobb. Melissa is an artist currently working in Connecticut. Mollie and Paul were often portrayed in front of various pieces of furniture that Paul had designed for catalogs and press pieces.

Death

Paul Winthrop McCobb died on the night of Monday, March 12th, 1969. He was only 51 years old. His obituary in the New York Times said only that Paul died, "...after a long illness," but does not go into further detail⁶. His funeral services were held Thursday the 15th of March at 10am at St. Ignatious Loyola, Park and 84th in New York⁶. Paul suffered from hypertension, a condition that he battled throughout his lifetime⁷; indeed, this was the cause of his medical discharge from the Army Corps of Engineers after only one year of service in 1943⁷. The first effective therapeutic drugs for hypertension were reserpine, hydrallizine, and quaternary ammonium ganglion-blocking drugs, and were developed and were first available for clinical use during the 1950's^11,12. However, the side effects of these early drugs were often much worse than the symptoms themselves¹¹. Whether McCobb was ever prescribed these early antihypertensives is not known - however, he does not appear to have had a drug therapy to combat this condition. What is known is that due to his lifelong untreated condition, his kidneys suffered severe damage, and eventually failed⁷. During the mid 1960's a visiting nurse had to bring a portable dialysis machine to their New York apartment three times a week⁷. As McCobb's condition grew worse, he was spending more and more time on dialysis, and by 1969 he was on dialysis full-time⁷. Paul's death in early 1969 must have been due to complications associated with kidney failure.  

What makes Paul McCobb's Pieces so Sought After?

Well, I guess the only question I'm qualified to address here is why do I dig Paul's Planner pieces so much? They're plain, simple wooden boxes with straightforward joinery. In many pieces, the rather thick cleats on the bottom of the carcass that the legs screw into are clearly visible from the front, and many of the the sliding doors are covered with an artificial, vinyl, grass cloth-like material that looks about as real as George Hamilton's tan. It's about as boxy as you can get. It likely has a similar aerodynamic coefficient of drag as a brick wall of the same approximate proportions. But it's got some serious mojo. The carcasses are solid wood. The shelves are solid wood. The legs are solid wood (or square tubular metal). And the artificial grass cloth door coverings are just as fabulous as George Hamilton's spray tan. McCobb's work is not Jetsonian like some of Saarinen's designs. Nor did it rely on exotic species to dress it up like much of the Scandinavian furniture of the time. It was maple or walnut, or lacquered. It was well-built and modular. The sizes of the cased pieces were all similar so that they are compatible. If you wanted a stack of drawers for some additional storage capacity on top of your dresser, no problem - just add them on and find an arrangement that looks good to you. They would fit perfectly, and the finish would match.

It just all works together wonderfully well - with the tapered, slightly angled legs and those round aluminum finger pulls. The simplicity of form - call it frugality of design or of materials or whatever you want. That no-nonsense sparseness of Planner cased pieces in combination with the quality of materials and workmanship are the perfect synergy in my opinion. It just works. In terms of American-born American furniture designers of the early part of the modernist movement, I personally think Paul McCobb is the most important and influential. Ghasp! What - not Florence Knoll? Eero Saarinen? Well, Saarinen was born in Finland, so he's out of the running on that ground. Knoll was born in 1917 - the same year as McCobb but a month or so earlier in Michigan. She was arguably more successful, but in terms of the pieces she personally designed versus those designed by others and associated with her company's name, I prefer McCobb pieces.

The other thing to remember here is that Paul McCobb was a human being, just like the rest of us. That's an important fact not to lose sight of.  He made mistakes, committed errors in judgement. He messed up just like we all do. Some of what you read of Paul's personal timeline may have been a little uncomfortable, especially if you read between the lines, and carefully scrutinized some of the dates. This was meant to be an intimate portrait. Much of this information was not available before, at least not in one place. As I find new source material, I will undoubtedly add to this portrait. If you have any information that contradicts anything contained herein, please let me know and give me access to your primary source material and I will correct the oversight. A great many thanks to Jonathan Goldstein for providing a lot of the information contained within the biography, and for suggestions that helped improve the accuracy of this piece. You can read Jonathan's blog on Paul McCobb and the timeline of McCobb's lighting, furniture, textiles and other designs and products here. Truly an amazing resource for any admirer of McCobb's work. Jonathan - I can't wait to see that book!


References

1. https://familysearch.org/tree/person/LCT4-WLT/details

2. Massachusetts, Suffolk County birth records. Births, 1917, v. 1, file no. 1-10000

3. United States Census. 1920. Sheet 5B, NARA microfilm publication T625 (Washington D.C.: National Archives and Records Administration, n.d.); FHL microfilm 1,820,714.

4. United States Census. 1930. Citing NARA microfilm publication T626 (Washington D.C.: National Archives and Records Administration, 2002). 

5. United States Census. 1940. Citing sheet 4B, family 111, Sixteenth Census of the United States, 1940, NARA digital publication T627. Records of the Bureau of the Census, 1790 - 2007, RG 29. Washington, D.C.: National Archives and Records Administration, 2012, roll 1705. 

6. New York Times. 1969. Paul McCobb, Modern Designer, Dies. March 12, 1969. 

7. Goldstein, Jonathan. 2016. Pers. Com. Author of the blog "Planner, Perimeter, Predictor, Paul McCobb." Jonathan is a researcher working on a comprehensive biography of Paul McCobb and has been in touch with Paul McCobb's closest living relatives.

8. Vermont, Marriage Records, 1909-2008. Paul W Mccobb and Susan Alberi, Marriage, 27 May 1972, Montpelier, Washington, Vermont, United States. 

9. Olga Soika in household of Mary Soika, Ward 3, Boston, Boston City, Suffolk, Massachusetts, United States; citing enumeration district (ED) 15-132, sheet 62B, family 295, Sixteenth Census of the United States, 1940, NARA digital publication T627. Records of the Bureau of the Census, 1790 - 2007, RG 29. Washington, D.C.

10. Electronic Army Serial Number Merged File, ca. 1938 - 1946 (Enlistment Records) in the Series: World War II Army Enlistment Records, created 6/1/2002 - 9/30/2002, documenting the period ca. 1938 - 1946.

11. Dollery, C.T. 1965. Physiological and pharmacological interactions of antihypertensive drugs. Proceedings of the Royal Society of Medicine 58:983-987.

12. Reid, J.L. 1996. New therapeutic agents for hypertension. British journal of clinical pharmacology 42:37-41.

Let's Play... Name. That. COUCH!

I picked up this couch on Craigslist in the Inland Empire about 5 or 6 years ago for maybe $25 bucks. I saw the ad, wrote them an email, told them I'd take it, asked them to take the ad down, figured out a time, and drove to Uhaul to rent a van. I lived in Riverside at the time, and I made the decision to chance the afternoon traffic coming back from LA to nip out and grab the couch around 3pm. So down the 215 I went. At the big flyover interchange in Riverside, I got onto the 60 and headed toward the west. Out past the Ontario airport, driving toward the Pacific.