New Orleans Part IV: How the Other Half Lives

We've got a lot to cover so let's dive right on in shall we?


The Plantations

There is a sense of romance when one talks about the "Old South". The finery, the culture, the dresses, the balls it's all very charming. However, we can never forget that all this luxury was built off the back of hypocrisy and slavery. Now, technically, Louisiana was not part of the "Old South" as it was not a state during the Revolutionary War, it was more correctly part of the "Antebellum South" which was prominent during the four score and seven or so years between the Revolutionary War and the Civil War. On our trip up the river, we drove by several fine homes, but for the sake of time, let's look at two. Which are:

Oak Alley Plantation and Laura Plantation.

Let's start with the grander "Oak Alley"

 The trees of Oak Alley were present long before the house was built in 1837 as the trees are expected to be about 300 years old. The stately home was constructed via the funding of Jacques Telesphore Roman for his wife Celina.

Celina's father was Gilbert Joseph Pilie a noted architect and probable designer of the plantation. While Jacques had been unofficially dubbed "The Sugar King" of New Orleans, he died about 10 years after the house construction and despite marital woes, left the plantation in the care of his wife. It is important to note that Celina was as bad at business as she was good at throwing parties. Nearing bankruptcy in 1859, the eldest son, Henri Roman took control of the property, but by then they were too deep in debt to turn it around. Before long the union soldiers came down the bayou and the Romans were forced to sell their fine and financially unsustainable home.

It was left in disrepair until it was bought and restored in the 1920s.

The architecture of it is just phenomenal. It's one of those places that's hard to describe why it works, it just does. Nature does not build in straight lines, but somehow this places feels so natural. As far as the design goes, it's a perfect balance of natural elements and man-made possession of landscape. It's real purdy.

The second plantation we will look at is the Laura Plantation.

Unlike Oak Alley, Laura stayed firmly in the hands of the same family since it's construction in the early 1800s. That is until the last owner, Laura Locoul Gore (the fourth owner in a direct line of succession) gave it up to move to St. Louis. The architecture is clearly much more Creole and Caribbean based than that of Oak Alley. The colors, the decoration and the functionality are much more condensed, much less focused on entertaining. Like Oak Alley, the kitchen is off to the side to take away from the heat, practical and interesting flow-wise.

However, Laura Plantation is clearly a working house, vs. Oak Alley which is very much about showing off. This is most clearly evident by the reception halls. In Oak Alley you feel you have arrived, at Laura, it is as if you have always been.

While there was a sort of tragic element to the fate of the Roman family, I have to say I was removed from that pity for the main antagonist figure of the Laura plantation, Elizabeth Locoul.

Elizabeth was forced into ownership of the plantation when we was young, still very much a teenager. In part due to the culture around her as well as the responsibility thrust upon her at such a young age, she became a desensitized bully especially with the enslaved people on her land. She bought female slaves for breeding purposes, tried to break up families (which at the time was against French law, but not American law) and had at least one of her slaves branded on the forehead for trying to escape. It was these ugly tactics that, while keeping the plantation profitable, convinced her grand daughter, Laura, that she wanted nothing to do with running a plantation. Laura abdicated her duty in 1891 and sold the lot. In her later years, Laura wrote a book about her memories of growing up on a Creole Plantation. It's a pretty good read if you're interested. Find it here

Sadly, the home was damaged by fire in 2004 and repairs have not yet been made to restore it. Despite this, I would recommend taking a tour of it to see how different it is for all the other plantations in the area.

The Garden District 

Moving closer to the city, we can find ourselves in the Garden District. This part of town is for the more suburban set. When you have lots of money, but don't want the remoteness of a plantation, nor the pressures of a house in the Quarter, which is all code for, the Americans wanted it. Many of the homes are what you would consider to be "Victorian" however, unlike the Victorian homes in Boston or Denver, it's just too hot to have the layering affect that mansions of that time were so famous for. Instead, the Garden District houses combine the best of the creole row homes, especially in regards to the porches, with the basics of Victorian architecture. As a result, the houses are large and open. Also, they are frequently adjacent to huge gardens, which gives the district it's name.

The best way to see this neighborhood is by street car. Here are some examples of the kind of houses you're likely to find in this part of town.

While touring, we were able to stop by the The Columns Hotel which is a bed and breakfast. Staying there was out of our price range, but tea in Albertine room was not.

While we were there, people brought up about five times that the house is where the movie 'Pretty Baby' was filmed. Maybe I'm an uncultured closed minded plebeian but that movie gives me the creeps. The straight up Game of Thrones creeps.

Why? Well, here's the trailer.

Gross.

Secondly, this is the Garden District, Storyville is on the other side of town, just saying. But if you're into sordid histories, Storyville is for you. It's one of those "if you're going to do that sort of thing, could you do it over there" type places. 

While we're here, I know it's technically not part of the Garden District, but it was part of our Trolley Line so let's cover it.

One of my favorites of the City: The Piazza D'Italia.

In 1970s the leaders of the Italian Population of New Orleans sought a monument to honor their contribution to the Crescent City. In 1974 former Dean of the Yale School of Architecture, Charles Moore took the bait and designed the most pop of pop art, the most post-modern thing ever: The Piazza D'Italia. The Piazza had a rough start: as soon as it was completed and getting settled into the city, there was a drop in the interest of domestic oil production which meant that the community that surrounded it withered. It was almost lost as a "Post Modern Ruin" until a renovation in 2003-2004 by the Lowes Hotel Company.

I was surprised not only by how much I liked it, but also how well it was crafted. The jokes are perfectly timed:

-Architect Head Sculpture spits water onto the viewer
-The columns are just for show
-Flying buttress for some reason
-NEON!
-It is literally a map of Italy 

There have always been mixed feelings about post-modernism in architecture. I had a professor in college who refused to even say the name James Wines because it caused too much controversy. On the one side some architects will note that Post-Modernism is a cheap shot, an easy out, a way of mocking the beliefs of others while contributing nothing yourself.

However, if you like Post-modernism, you see it as a witty, charming, tongue-in-cheek way of seeing the world. It doesn't always have to be significant to be meaningful, sometimes it can just be silly and still resonate with the viewer. Po-Mo moments like the Piazza D'Italia, are like the fool in King Lear, it's garish and loud but sometimes the jokes can more accurately describe the situation than the stone faced report. 

I guess the best way to describe the Piazza's appeal is with this metaphor:

is kind of like:

but more sophisticated. So really it's the most like this:

and now to totally switch gears....

The Lower Ninth Ward:

In late August of 2005 a force of unprecedented impact struck the coast of the Southern United States with the heedless determination of a wild beast, destroying everything man and God had wrought there. The impact was undeniable, the blame for the aftermath was shoved and passed from person to person, agency to agency, derision infectious and despair insurmountable. 

Hurricane Katrina is now as woven into the fabric of New Orleans as much as any other siginificant portion of their history. The haunted memories of long since past invasions, deadly plagues and all consuming fires were in one fell swoop eclipsed and washed away by the storm. However, seven years later, we see what makes people fall in love with New Orleans. It is not only the music, the color, the passion; it is the determination within its' people. They survive, and always will.

This is not to say that the problem is solved: "Mission Accomplished", far from it in fact. However, it does afford us an opportunity to look at the Ninth ward then and now.

Prior to 2005, the Ninth ward was famous for it's characteristic abundance of shotgun houses. Originally the area had been plantation land which was then adapted into military housing related to the Jackson Barracks (circa 1830). The neighborhood slowly grew over until it was as much part of New Orleans as the Garden District or the French Quarter. What held the water back in this area (as we mentioned earlier, most of the city is below sea level), was a series of levees along the adjacent canals.

One of these levees had broken during Hurricane Betsy in 1965, the damage from this was monumental. It was in reaction to this storm that President L.B. Johnson stated on his visit to oversee the damage: "I am here because I want to see with my own eyes what the unhappy alliance of wind and water have done to this land and to its good people." This visit prompted the Flood Control Act of 1965 which resulted in the design and maintenance of the levees being handed to the Army Corps of Engineers.

When Katrina hit, several levees broke, and despite the mandatory evacuation of the area, the storm resulted in the death of over 1600 people and billions of dollars worth of damage. I am unfit to properly categorize what this meant to the city as a whole as the aftermath is both measurable and immeasurable. You can put a price on a house, but what about a life? For further information I would recommend Chris Rose's 1 Dead in Attic

The immediate response was to give those displaced temporary shelter, which turned out to create even more problems, as some of the poorly constructed trailers were laced with toxic chemicals, creating severe health risks. 

In the years following the disaster and its aftermath, a series of sustainability friendly non-profits started drawing its attention to New Orleans, in particular the Lower Ninth Ward, where the damage had been greatest. Including but not exclusive to, LowerNine, Habitat for Humanity, and most famously, Make it Right. Most people are acquainted with Make it Right as one of their spokespersons is an almost universally recognizable figure. That's right.

 

Bob Vila.

Come on. We all know it's Brad Pitt:

It's an example of using your celebrity for good and as glibly as it portrays the sometimes shallow reasons for supporting charity, let's use it as a means to an end. I mean, at the end of the day, who are you going to give money to:

--This guy.

Or

---- This guy.

The correct answer is both of these dudes. Because they both support worthy causes. 

However, while Jimmy Carter's outfit is typically more homogeneous, Make it Right has the advantage of celebrity and with that in mind arranged for some of the best architects in the world to design their homes. (Click on the names to see what they are most famous for).

Shigeru Ban

Hitoshi Abe

Bild

 Frank Gehry

Yes, each one is a fascinating take on what a shotgun house lot can allow for. Clearly crafted by masters of the trade, creole influences, contemporary technology, functionality and just the right amount of ego. I am excited to see how they age as well.

When we first got to New Orleans I was especially interested in seeing the Make it Right houses as I had read so much about them. However, I was lost as to how to find them, as no addresses were listed on any website. This reminded me of the paradox of architectural interest, especially when it comes to residential works: on one side, you are curious about the object as an aesthetic piece, on the other, these are people's homes and you should respect their privacy. There in lies the darker side of celebrity endorsement, people are interested in helping, but they also want to see the result and take their share of pride.

While I did find the streets that the Make it Right houses were located on, I will not post it here. The important thing is that, should you want to see them, you should drive the whole area to see the place and also probably donate to the cause of rebuilding it.

The other interesting side of this development is the aging that has taken place thus far. On one end of the spectrum are the Make it Right houses that embrace nature, on the other, is the consuming methods of Nature itself. With the sharp decrease in population (about 1/2 from 2000 to 2010 according to the census) many places have been abandoned, leading them to be reclaimed by selfish nature of plants and man. For more information on this phenomenon, see point and counterpoint.


Conclusion:

New Orleans, city of music, dark sides, light sides and everything in between. She is a romantic survivor, she is Carmen, you will love her, she will leave you broken hearted but you can never blame her for it. She is not to be trusted and always to be adored.

There and Back Again: A Hobbit's Tale. By Miley Cyrus

After a long winter in a somewhat dreary east coast town, (no hate Baltimore, just fact), I was ready for a mini-vacation. So I hitched up the old frequent flyer miles and visited a friend in Los Angeles. To quote a woman who is truly the voice of our age, and will, I'm sure, be an inspiration to all in her wake.

"I hopped off the plane at LAX
With a dream and my cardigan
Welcome to the land of fame excess (Whoa), am I gonna fit in?

Jumped in the cab here I am for the first time
Look to my right and I see the Hollywood sign
This is all so crazy, everybody seems so famous"

But seriously.

What is it about California, LA in particular, that represents such a fantasy, such an optimism, such suspicion?

The specifics of the culture were identifiable in literature by such figures as Jack London, Amy Tan, Mark Twain, John Steinbeck, and Aldous Huxley. Of course, if we want to be topical, we can also look at its' influence on fictional figures, like Don Draper, who see it as a gleaming example of hope and nostalgia wrapped in a neat package.

In many ways, California is microcosm of how the United States presents itself, which make sense, as much of our media (or propaganda if you want to use a loaded word) is produced.

The assessment is as such: California, like America, has the following traits:

- Optimistic
- Clever
- Brave
- Heartfelt
- Curious
- Adventuresome
- Idealistic
- Charming

It also has the faults of being:

- Shallow
- Self-hating
- Youth-Obsessed
- Narcissistic
- Overly Competitive
- Arrogant
- Egotistical
- Ridiculous

The architecture of Los Angeles, much like the literature, reflects this fascinating paradox. Let's look at some examples, shall we?

Part I: You can always go home, it just can't be yours.

While I was in LA, three people became the center of my residential focus. That is, The Eames and John Lautner.

Charles and Ray were a couple the likes of which are enviable. Charles began his career in steel and was entranced by Scandinavian modernity, Ray was a sophisticated artist and designer who could more than keep up with her husband. Where Charles could envision the space, Ray could make it come alive.

In their work, there is the pursuit of a better kind of life through what the west has to offer, that is, open space. Case Study House #8 is a great example.

Though it took longer for the materials to arrive then it did to assemble everything (several years vs. two days), The Eames were forever figuring out how their home would be arranged. This process is extremely different from Frank Lloyd Wright or Le Corbusier, who had very strict ideas as to how their spaces were going to be lived in.

Charles and Ray were continually deciding what would be in the grand living room. This room serves as garden, library and tea room all at once. The search for reinvention and change physically manifests itself while loving the landscape. Originally the plan was to have the house stand over the meadow that it is now adjacent to. The Eames moved this back in order to better preserve what they loved about the space, the openness.

Dominating the landscape makes sense in say, Fallingwater, where the effect is dramatic, or (though I have yet to see it in person) the Farnsworth house, where the look is one of delicate removal, but in something as (dare I say it) fun as the Eames house, it would look a little pompous.

For videos of this house, see the previous post

On the other hand is John Lautner, who can do a lot more name dropping with his LA homes, as they have appeared in tons of movies.







(Ok that last one is different. but next time you watch it, check out Jackie Treehorn's pad)

John Lautner, believed in nature, much like the Eames. However, while the Eames were steeped in a mixture of DeStijl and Bauhaus traditions, Lautner was a zealous disciple of Frank Lloyd Wright. In addition to this, he was a promoter of the Gaia Movement's dogma of "Organic Architecture". The commandments of which are:

"Let the design:

be inspired by nature and be sustainable, healthy, conserving, and diverse.
unfold, like an organism, from the seed within.
exist in the "continuous present" and "begin again and again".
follow the flows and be flexible and adaptable.
satisfy social, physical, and spiritual needs.
"grow out of the site" and be unique.
celebrate the spirit of youth, play and surprise.
express the rhythm of music and the power of dance."

Specific, yet open to interpretation.

Lautner both loves and controls the nature of his homes. The palm trees are dynamic, but do not overshadow the sharp edges of the concrete. There is also the glass, always with the glass.

Lautner's architecture became popular a little bit later than the Eames and visually you can tell. The Eames seem to be a 1950s-early 60s dream, while Lautner has more grander, something that seems unmistakably late 60s-70s.

So, where the Eames Case Study houses seem like the humble experiments of a kindly couple out in the woods.


Lautner's designs are how can we put this? Sexier. They just ooze money, sophistication and a sultry kind of power.


To sum it up: you want to marry the Eames Designs, but have an affair with the Lautner Designs.

These three designers were a product of their respective times yet simultaneously a reaction to the core cultures of LA, which are in short: a dependence of cars, modernity and convenience. These three things more than anything else lead to what? Say it with me folks. Pollution. So they straddle the needs of their modern life with a reverence for nature. Like a more moral kind of Petit Trianon.

There are a number of other great homes in LA, designed by the likes of Greene & Greene, Schindler, Neutra, Wright, but for the sake of time. We'll move on.

An example of a few more can be found here

Part II: Uptown v. Downtown: The Public Buildings Strike Back

There are a lot of great museums in LA. In particular I like the MOCA and LACMA

However, there are two rival buildings which have high visual concepts.

Firstly to divert from our path, I love the architectural debates going on right now. They're complicated. Studying older architectural history, there is a chronological order to how things go, a natural progression. German Cathedrals are different from Italian ones, and for very specific reasons. They also take decades, if not centuries to build, so most of the time there is less personal vision.

Currently, there are so many requirements and agendas happening at the same time that it creates greater challenges for architects, and I believe more often than not, fascinating results.

The computer allows architects to put a ton of personality into their work, which means that when you're buying a design, you're buying an architect. The viewpoint included. So it is with that we look at the following two designs.

The Getty Center and the Walt Disney Concert Hall.



The Getty Center was designed by Richard Meier, a rationalist architect who is part of that boy band known as "The New York Five". The Getty, like much of Meier's work has this sense of formality to it. When you get there, you have arrived. The best example of this is when I was reading the map and misread the title page.

It listed the "Arrival Court" however I saw it as "Arriving at Court" and I think it accurately summed up the feeling.

The museum design invokes the Parthenon, both in its layout of the individual structures and the procession and walk through process that it orchestrates. Meier is saying "you don't HAVE to, but you should do it this way". The museum is much like the collection, a few break out stars, a lot of pretty good and nothing uninteresting.

What you get the most of in this design, besides the view, is the texture. Soft to hard, delicate to rough, steel to stone, it's a mastery of what the material can do. I've given Meier a hard time in the past, mostly for his work at the Ara Pacis.

However, that work represented the "Californication" of Europe. We're in LA now baby, and here it just makes sense.

Also, it should be noted I arrived on the one day, it seems ever, it was raining at the Getty. They were kind enough to give you an umbrella as you get off the tram, which was thoughtful, but did present a huge design flaw.

Next we have the Walt Disney Concert Hall which, like the Getty, is dramatic and charming. But it is there the similarities end.



Where Meier is considered one of the elites, seemingly bred for a sleek kind of architecture by the all-powerful Philip Johnson, Gehry is someone with whom you just fall in love. He's the underdog, the one you want to believe in, if we want to be cliche about it... the Hollywood story.

By his own testimony:

“I was a truck driver in L.A., going to City College, and I tried radio announcing, which I wasn't very good at. I tried chemical engineering, which I wasn't very good at and didn't like, and then I remembered. You know, somehow I just started racking my brain about, "What do I like?" Where was I? What made me excited? And I remembered art, that I loved going to museums and I loved looking at paintings, loved listening to music. Those things came from my mother, who took me to concerts and museums. I remembered Grandma and the blocks, and just on a hunch, I tried some architecture classes.”

Now that may seem romantic, but when you look at the WDCH, you get it. Where the Getty is an implied progression from space to space, the Concert Hall is an exploration of the nooks and crannies that the curves create.

However, it is not without it's critics. Let's get real for a moment, It's a mess of a building with angles and curves everywhere that don't make any sense. THEY JUST DON'T.


Or do they?


They make sense if you think like a painter or a sculpture. It's not just about the space or the program, it's about the mere shock of it all. Like walking in on an enormous painting.

It's got that "Wow" Factor. That nothingness that is tangible and unobtainable, like charm without the smarm, with goodness without condescension, so hard to achieve yet instantly recognizable.

At the Getty, you are a pilgrim to worship the art. At the WDCH you're a spelunker there to discover it. Some would argue that is the nature of the art you are there to see, visual vs. acoustic, but that may be taking it too literally.

Part III: The Greening

We can't end this post without talking about the green elephant in the room, which is of course, Sustainability. California, more than anywhere else in the US is obsessed with the environmental aspects of it's construction. For good reason.

The basic infrastructure of LA is counter intuitive to everything the green movement stands for. (Just watch the end of 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit'.) You need a car. You just do. The shining kind of optimism that makes the area so appealing is the exact same thing that makes it unsustainable. So, with all the sincerity of a born again convict, LA is interested in health and the environment.

Maybe it's because I'm a cynical Easterner with a heart of coal who is impatient, rude, and demanding but I can't understand a city without a public transit system that works well (and I lived in Philadelphia).

What you need is a rail system, a good one. What you have are highways and a tourist line. Will installing it be a pain in the butt? Yes. You need it. Think of it as "having some work done."

It should be noted they're working on the Metro solution, but the TBDs leave one a little nervous.

Coming soon to a Metropolitan area near you

Finally, because we talked so much about the future past, enjoy one of my favorites:



Also, a special thanks to my hosts. They were lovely and charming.
You can catch their webseries here:

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