The Sheats Goldstein house might be the most frequently photographed piece of property in LA (if you haven’t seen it on innumerable blogs like Curbed, or from the video walk through Charles posted awhile ago, you probably remember it from The Big Lebowski)—so obviously, I jumped at the chance to take a tour of the iconic house with architect Duncan Nicholson, who has been restoring and adding to the property since the ’90s. And as much as I tried to restrain my trigger finger, I took a ridiculous amount of photos to add to the home’s documentation—apologies for the seemingly endless scroll above.
Obviously, it’s an amazing house—but I’m most interested in its evolution through the ages. James Goldstein purchased the house in 1972, and then re-hired John Lautner to improve upon the house (and undo some questionable renovations)—the torch was passed to Nicholson, who has been carrying on the work to date.
Duncan started working for Lautner in 1989, and one of his first projects at the firm was to collaborate with James Turrell on his ‘Skyspace’ for the property. The corresponding concrete decks and walkways he designed that connect the house to the Skyspace take you on a near surreal procession through the rain forest-like gardens on the property.
He was also the project architect on the living room installation and designed most of the furniture, some of which was of course immortalized on film when The Dude sat there drinking his laced White Russian.
The plans for the most ambitious phase of the project, including a guest house, tennis court, nightclub and terrace, were shelved for almost 10 years after Lautner passed in 1994. Work on the project resumed in 2003 and has been ongoing ever since. Currently under construction is the nightclub that lives beneath what is arguably the most stunning tennis court in existence. All components of the addition make use of poured-in-place concrete, staying true to Lautner’s original aesthetic, one that somehow manages to make concrete feel warm and organic.
Beautiful photos by Ward Roberts depicting various courts integrated into the urban landscape in near chameleon ways.
When living in Hong Kong I remember being amazed at how much area was offered up for court/pitch activities, given how short they are on space. Many of these are most likely far above street level, and while not necessarily “green areas,” they give back crucial space that was taken by construction.
New Jersey photographer Stacy Swiderski’s series Suburban Nights depicts aluminum-sided houses, above-ground pools, yards, and family cars shrouded in the purple light of dusk and the clear black of midnight. Illumination comes from sodium-yellow streetlamps, or fresh snowfall’s iridescent blue. The most noticeable thing about these photographs—apart from their silky, hyper-real color scheme—is their lack of people. Swiderski’s lonely landscapes carry a familiar melancholy for anyone who grew up in these sorts of places (myself included), and I can’t get enough of the eerie calm and—maybe I’m projecting here—subtle menace of her images.
I remember the first time I laid eyes on a photo of Brasilia. I actually thought it was from a science fiction movie or computer generated 3D model. In fact, it’s still hard to believe these buildings really exist on our planet today.
Yesterday, the legendary architect behind Brasilia and many more modernist works of art, passed away at the age of 104.
Oscar Niemeyer was an architect by trade, but his buildings embodied much more than the engineering or utility behind them; they were, to borrow a phrase I read in a recent obituary, “a poetic vision of the future.”
And nowhere was Oscar’s vision better demonstrated than in Brasilia, a planned utopia conceived in Brazil’s interior that resembles a spaceport more than anything we might recognize as a city. In fact, after flying over Brasilia’s futuristic presidential palace and modular ministries in 1961, Yuri Gagarin, the Russian cosmonaut and first man in space, said “the impression was like arriving on another planet.”
The photos presented here are from two photographers and sources. Marcel Gautherot’s photos of ‘The Construction of Brasilia’ are sourced from an Arch Daily article you should read and see. The others are from Rene Burri, and you can view more of them through Magnum Photo’s website.
Amazing photos from a new book on Balthazar Korab’s architectural photography.
Emigrating to the US from Hungary in 1955, Korab was initially hired by Eero Saarinen as a designer, but his skills as a photographer quickly took center stage stage and he effectively became Saarinen’s in-house photographer, using photography as a tool for design development in addition to documentation of finished works.
While of course featuring many of Saarinen’s iconic buildings, the book also shows Korab’s commissioned photos of works by Corb, Mies, Kahn, Frank Lloyd Wright….
This is one of the simplest modern homes i’ve seen in a while, there isn’t much to the overall outline. It breaks down to the stairs leading up to the bottom floor which looks like it reaches a layer of stones to walk up to the second level and then the outdoor pool sits nicely in the back. My favorite section of the home is the long wooden sides, growing up in the midwest which you get a harsh taste of every season; this detail would not be possible.
The team at Saunders Architecture put together one of the most ideal 3 floor studios imaginable. Only reachable by hiking this black twisted tower is sits in one of the most peaceful looking terrains, I can’t even fathom the idea of living like this, its too good.
Stunning images from various Google data centers around the world. I’m always amazed when I see how intricate and complex all this network routing can get, but the images I’m most drawn to in these galleries are the photos that show the routing of something else: water.
The cooing tech seems just as complex as the rest of it all, and they make great use of color to help identify different water types and their functions. For example, in Hamina Finland, one color designates highly pressurized clean and filtered water for use in the event of a fire, while another designates seawater pulled from the Gulf of Finland, used solely for cooling purposes.