The 1972 Federal Aviation Administration Building (FAA) in Hawthorne is protected by an easement held by the Conservancy. Photo by Adrian Scott Fine/L.A. Conservancy.
The phrase “everything old is new again” is fitting for historic preservation work. Through the passage of time, places that once might have been derided and misunderstood come into their own and are “rediscovered.”
It happened with Victorian homes, for example, which were considered past their prime in the 1950s and ‘60s, and many were demolished in this time period. But those that remained came to be appreciated again by the 1970s and ‘80s. A similar storyline has followed Art Deco, Craftsman, and numerous other architectural styles. We generally lose a lot of these kinds of places as we wait for the public’s appreciation for them to catch up.
Often it is a younger generation that sees value in these “newer” buildings that are just emerging as the historic landmarks of the future. Now that the 1970s-era built environment is crossing the fifty-year threshold, enough time has passed to start understanding, recognizing, and protecting these places too.
Our Newest Conservation Easement
With the launch of our new The ‘70s Turn 50 initiative, this is a perfect time to share the news about our latest conservation easement, which happens to be a significant 1970s building.
The Federal Aviation Administration Building (FAA) in Hawthorne is one of the nation’s most significant examples of 1970s Late Modernism. It is now protected through a conservation easement held by the Conservancy. As an easement-holder, we ensure that any proposed changes to the exterior of the building and landscape conform to the Secretary of the Interior’s Standards for Rehabilitation (nationally recognized preservation standards).
When the FAA was completed in 1972, the nation was in the middle of a presidential scandal, the first-ever digital watch made its debut, and NASA’s Space Shuttle Program officially launched. The FAA and similar buildings from this time period represented a stark architectural departure, with a rounded, taut glass-and-aluminum-skinned façade. It looked more like a piece of monumental sculpture than a building intended to house federal office workers. From certain angles, the reflective glass building appears to hover above the ground as if an experimental aircraft. This design is fitting given Los Angeles County’s role in the early aerospace industry.
Despite its eventual construction in the 1970s, the design for the FAA dates to 1966, by architects César Pelli and Anthony J. Lumsden of Daniel Mann Johnson & Mendenhall (DMJM). Considered the first-designed Southern California building to have a mirrored skin, the FAA was not the first built. Pelli and Lumsden collaborated on experimental developments with new types of exterior cladding or “skin.” The idea was to wrap a building’s structural frame in a glass curtain wall façade that appeared as one continuous, uniform surface.
In 1976, Progressive Architecture magazine quoted Lumsden saying the FAA was “the first building in the country, I believe, that tried to do a lightweight sculptural surface, where the building goes over the top…under the bottom, and also around the corner.” The article also describes the FAA as an “anti-gravitational mass, not unlike a dirigible airship.” Its progressive design represented a significant step in the evolution of continuous, flexible membrane facades, leading to numerous examples built throughout the U.S. and world.
Anyone driving past the FAA and its busy intersection at 15000 Aviation Boulevard likely notices how this building stands out from others. It is set back from the corner with a vast open landscape and sited as if a “machine in the garden.” It is thoroughly futuristic, even today, nearly fifty years later. In 2010, Lumsden noted how important and integral the open landscape was to the design of the building. It frames the FAA with flat open lawn areas and undulating earthen berms intended to extend the sculptural effects of the building, and serve a practical purpose of concealing surface parking. The Conservancy’s conservation easement protects both the FAA building and its landscape setting.
The FAA building features a rounded, taut glass-and-aluminum-skinned façade. Photo by Adrian Scott Fine/L.A. Conservancy.
In 2015, at age 43, the FAA was officially listed in the National Register of Historic Places. Its contribution to the field of architecture is more than worthy of this level of recognition. Though still relatively young, the FAA was in need of a significant seismic retrofit and reinvestment. After considering its options, the General Services Administration (GSA), who manages the FAA and a massive portfolio of buildings owned by the federal government, ultimately decided to close and sell the building. Due to its status as a historic building, the planned sale prompted a federal historic review process called Section 106, established as part of the National Historic Preservation Act. This affords any significant historic building passing from federal to private ownership adequate, long-term protection. In this case, the best tool to accomplish this goal is a conservation easement.
The federal government officially closed the building in 2018, relocating its office workers and leaving the building empty. For more than a year, the Conservancy worked closely with the GSA to put in place the necessary provisions before the sale of the FAA could proceed. This included valuable assistance from the National Trust for Historic Preservation and the Advisory Council on Historic Preservation. On May 3, 2019, the GSA issued bids for the purchase of the FAA, with an online auction beginning on June 3 and ending on July 9.
In late November 2019, ownership of the FAA transferred to the winning bidder, Worthe Real Estate Group, based in Santa Monica. They plan to rehabilitate the FAA building and retain its original use as an office building. The conservation easement was officially placed on the building as a condition of the sale.
The Conservancy is already working closely with Worthe as they begin planning for tenant improvements, restoration of the glass skin of the building, and necessary upgrades. We are very excited to see this building rehabilitated and put back into its original use, demonstrating how old can indeed become new again. This easement also marks the Conservancy’s first postwar historic building, let alone from the 1970s, to join our growing portfolio of conservation easements!
To learn more about the Conservancy’s easement program, visit
laconservancy.org/easements.
The ‘70s Turn 50: Celebrating the Decade that Broke the Mold
The 1976 Bonaventure Hotel is an iconic 1970s building in downtown L.A. Photo by Architectural Resources Group.
The Los Angeles Conservancy celebrates the 1970s’ golden anniversary with The ‘70s Turn 50, an exciting initiative exploring the decade’s lasting imprint on L.A. County’s built environment. This yearlong campaign will raise public awareness and educate Angelenos about 1970s architectural and cultural heritage sites in Los Angeles.
Why Fifty Years?
The fifty-year mark is significant in historic preservation. One of the criteria for designation on the National Register of Historic Places states that properties under the age of fifty should not be considered eligible unless they are of “exceptional importance.” While there is no age limit in Los Angeles for local landmark designation, the fifty-year rule remains a benchmark for examining buildings and structures from a period not yet long-gone. It serves as a rallying cry for preservationists anxious to spotlight places that may be at risk.
In 2010, the Conservancy leveraged the 1960s’ fiftieth birthday to shine a light on the growing number of lost or threatened buildings from that decade. Increasing public awareness and pressure helped spare some threatened ‘60s buildings.
The 1966 Fairmont Century Plaza (formerly, the Century Plaza Hotel), which had faced potential demolition, was successfully saved thanks to massive public support and a sensitive redevelopment plan brokered by the Conservancy and the National Trust for Historic Preservation.
Instilling value for structures not yet in our collective consciousness is half the battle when it comes to preserving them. However, those most in need of attention are in constant flux, moving targets based on the time and changing trends.
Threats to the ‘70s
In the decade since the Conservancy launched its efforts to preserve resources from the 1960s, structures from the 1970s have moved increasingly into the cross-hairs—especially those made with faltering building materials.
Gasoline shortages caused by the 1973 oil embargo quickly curtailed the postwar housing explosion in the United States, a boom that had resulted in the construction of roughly six million housing units in California. Construction shrank as ‘stagflation,’ a term coined in the ‘70s to describe the simultaneous occurrence of slow economic growth and high rates of inflation, gripped the country. The subsequent emphasis on cheap construction materials resulted in buildings that were difficult and expensive to maintain.
1970s buildings also face an increased threat due to a lack of enthusiasm for the aesthetics of the era. The design features and fads iconic to it (shag carpet, faux wood-grain paneling, platform shoes, and macramé) tend to be polarizing ones, and its architecture may be equally difficult for many to embrace.
A Time of Experimentation
Yet in Southern California, the ‘70s marked a time of unprecedented architectural exploration, and the structures left in its wake are some of the finest examples of that creative spirit. Large architectural firms expanded beyond the plain International Style glass box with a variety of building shapes and experimented with glass-skinned exteriors that gave their corporate commissions a simple yet beautiful aesthetic.
The Westin Bonaventure Hotel (John Portman, 1976), the colorful Pacific Design Center (Pelli and Gruen Associates, 1975), and the Federal Aviation Administration Headquarters (César Pelli, Anthony J. Lumsden, DMJM, 1972) exemplify the originality of the decade.
Simultaneously, schools of architecture, such as the newly formed Graduate School of Architecture and Urban Planning at UCLA; the School of Environmental Design at California State Polytechnic University, Pomona; and the radical Southern California Institute of Architecture (SCI-Arc), joined the ranks of the University of Southern California’s established architecture school in producing many of the leading architects of the time. Craig Hodgetts, Robert Mangurian, Thom Mayne, Michael Rotondi, Eric Owen Moss, Eugene Kupper, and Frederick Fisher all taught at these institutions, which provided them the means to experiment despite limited budgets.
Frank Gehry’s 1978 re-design of his Santa Monica residence using cheap and accessible materials was the first project to bring him significant attention. It catapulted the Los Angeles Deconstructivism movement onto the national stage.
The colorful Pacific Design Center’s first building, the Blue Building, rose at the corner of Melrose Avenue and San Vicente Boulevard in West Hollywood in 1975. Photo by Adrian Scott Fine/L.A. Conservancy.
Movers and Shakers
On the social and cultural front, the ‘70s were a crucible for movements. The Los Angeles Conservancy, Whittier Conservancy, Pasadena Heritage, and many other preservation and heritage groups were founded in the 1970s in response to the demolition and threatened destruction of historic sites across the County.
Similarly, the environmental movement, which gained national attention with landmark legislation, such as the National Environmental Protection Act, the Clean Water Act, and the Endangered Species Act, solidified in Los Angeles through the efforts of new organizations like TreePeople and the California Conservation Corps.
Begun in the ‘60s, the battle for civil rights continued, now in tandem with and alongside anti-Vietnam War marches and protests. The Chicano Moratorium took place in 1970, imprinting East Los Angeles with the memories of its message, marchers, and casualties. In the following years, both the women’s and LGBTQ+ liberation movements would make their presence known across Southern California, as well. Despite Tom Wolf’s descriptor of the 1970s as the “Me” decade, Los Angeles retained strong elements of civic engagement and activism.
Celebrating the ‘70s
The Conservancy will explore all of this and much more through The ‘70s Turn 50 initiative. Throughout 2020, we will tell the stories and explore the legacies of the 1970s in a variety of ways, including:
Holding a yearlong tour and discussion series at significant ‘70s buildings across the County.
Hosting special tours of buildings and sites of architectural and cultural importance.
Nominating structures from the decade for landmark designations.
Launching a social media campaign and a new ‘70s-centered microsite.
Most importantly, we will build a coalition of fellow organizations eager to join us in this enterprise. We hope that Conservancy members and citizens of Los Angeles County will create a force for valuing and preserving the rich heritage and unique culture of the 1970s.
Visit our microsite at laconservancy.org/70sTurn50 to learn more about this initiative, our programming partners, and upcoming events celebrating the 1970s. We will add more content and announce additional events throughout 2020.
Longtime Conservancy member Daniel Paul is an expert in L.A. Late-Modern architecture (1970-1990). Director of Development Liz Leshin asked Daniel to tell us about his area of expertise and why he joined the Conservancy.
Liz Leshin: Are you an L.A. native?
Daniel Paul: The metropolis yes, the City, no; I'm from Anaheim.
LL: You joined the Conservancy in 1996. What made you join in the first place? What were the main issues of concern then?
DP: I immediately joined the Los Angeles Conservancy Modern Committee, which really felt progressive back then. We had a slew of preservation issues at-hand, primarily centered around different strains of Mid-Century Modernism, including a variety of vernacular resources that many others were not really noticing. It was exciting, like a home of sorts, to meet and be among so many others with similar loves.
LL: Why do you think it's important to remain a member of the Conservancy?
DP: Because the Conservancy is virtually one-of-a-kind in terms of its scale and what it is willing to go after. Additionally, the Conservancy seems to have sort of a feel for, and ear of, local politics, making the organization helpful toward the cause.
LL: You are an expert in L.A. Late-Modern architecture (1970-1990). In a few words, can you express why this type of architecture is so compelling to you, and why L.A. was such a center for modernist architects?
DP: I became interested in this work beginning in 2001, when I was an Art History graduate student at California State University Northridge. I was curious to understand the aesthetic intentions and origin story of Late-Modern architecture, a design system perceived as anonymous if not hated. I had no idea when I began my work that it was created in Los Angeles.
I find the work compelling because it frequently possesses moments of beauty that are unexpected for its type, as large scale business architecture. Regarding why L.A. was such a center for Modernist architects, the deeper one looks I think every major city has its Modernist architects of note. But perhaps, at least for the US, a couple of elements set Los Angeles apart. Here, there was a certain openness to experiment, and openness to what architect Cesar Pelli called “future looking.” There was also a kind of horizontality in general back then: open space with no cultural hierarchies. This made for an anonymity that was not all bad, allowing architects to easily explore new concepts, and Modernism's zeitgeist was very much tied to the new.
Conservancy member Daniel Paul.
LL: Please describe the difference between early Modernism and Late Modernism, and why Late Modernism arose as a reaction to early modernism. What do you think are some of the best examples of Late Modernist 1970s buildings in Los Angeles?
DP: If by “early Modernism” you mean any Modernism before Late- and Post-, there are numerous iterations of it. I can say that both Late Modernism and Postmodernism began around 1965 as different reactions to a Modernism perceived as increasingly orthodox, dull, and insensitive. Speaking in the most general terms, Postmodernism–though the movement was not named as such until the mid-1970s–reacted against Modernism by introducing elements such as contextualism, humor, ornament, Classicism, complexity, and meaning.
Late Modernism, on the other hand, reacts against Orthodox Modernism by taking the language of Modernism and exaggerating it to show what became an increasingly orthodox Modernism would no longer be blindly followed. So for example, the dematerialization and thinness of the Modernist curtain wall is exaggerated to become the all-over smooth glass skin. Los Angeles Late-Modernism added a healthy dose of regional high-tech and art influences. Both reactions employ irony in their own way, though in Late Modernism the irony is subtle and in early Postmodernism, the irony is overt.
Regarding favorites, that is actually a rather challenging question, since so much of Los Angeles was built out by 1965. But within the city limits, some of my favorites are the Bonaventure Hotel, the former CNA Park Place Tower on 6th and Commonwealth (now the Los Angeles Superior Court Tower), Anthony Lumsden's twin sewage treatment plants: Donald C. Tillman Water Reclamation Plant (designed 1974; completed 1984) and Hyperion Water Reclamation Plant (designed 1985; completed 1997), along with some smaller resources too that are special in their own way: Auto Chek smog inspection facilities, and some of the 70s-era Bank of America branches, which I'm certain Cesar Pelli had an invisible hand in while he was at Gruen. Additionally, I have a weird place in my heart for the Warner Center: it looks like Oz from certain angles and used to be on the cover of the Yellow Pages!
The former CNA Park Place Tower (now the Los Angeles Superior Court Tower). Photo by Jeremy Sternberg/Flickr.
LL: Where did your interest in historic preservation come from?
DP: When I was 21 and studying art history at California State University Fullerton, I became deeply interested in art by the self-taught, particularly as they created environments upon their property, often over a period of decades or more, not from a conscious place of being an "artist." That such immersive creativity could be intrinsic and seemingly necessary to everyday life was deeply moving to me.
This led me to Grandma Prisbrey’s Bottle Village, by chance just a few days after the 1994 Northridge earthquake that caused it substantial damage. Not knowing what historic preservation was in the beginning, that is where I got started in preservation regardless, and I stayed at Bottle Village for 15 years. In the process, I fought for FEMA money, got Bottle Village listed on the National Register of Historic Places, and completed the USC historic preservation short course in 1996. But I must say that being on the Modern Committee in the late 1990s played no small part in my future career.
Grandma Prisbrey’s Bottle Village in 2008. Photo via Wikipedia.
LL: Why is it important to preserve Modernist architecture?
DP: In Los Angeles that is equivalent to asking why is it important to preserve architecture at all. So much of our built fabric here is some version of Modernism. At this point, I don't find it such a stretch to see that although Modernism is not decorative in any traditional manner, it can still be beautiful to people. So to preserve Modernism is to be open to non-traditional perspectives of beauty. There is, of course, everything that Modernism stood for, and that is a mixed bag. Nonetheless, I don’t blame the aesthetic itself.
LL: As you know, in 2020, the Conservancy is exploring the 1970s turning 50. One of your specialties is glass skin buildings, which started to be built in the 1970s. What is the allure of glass skin buildings?
DP: That they were never intended to be high art objects, but they nonetheless possess moments of great beauty.
LL: What is the challenge in preserving them?
DP: Their scale, the value of their land, preserving the very few and subtle character-defining features that they possess, and changing tastes. Taste goes in cycles. There was a time when Victorian architecture, Mid-Century Modernism, Art Deco, or any other variety of design systems fell out of favor, and works were then altered or demolished. Once these movements return to vogue, they never fully fall out of favor again. The challenge is identifying Late-Modernism's notable examples, then leaving them alone long enough to where they intrinsically over time look good again – and are therefore marketable – on their own accord. Late-Modern aesthetics are on the cusp of this, but right now innumerous mirror glass buildings are for lease.
LL: What do you say to people who describe them as “ugly” or “soulless”?
DP: First, I would remind them that when the Modern Committee began in 1984 as the Fifties Task Force, the 1950s were only 25 years old. That would be the equivalent to staring an early ‘90s task force now, and yet the ‘70s work is twenty years older than even that.
Regarding the buildings, I say enjoy their bold, sculptural presence from afar, and enjoy their surfaces close-in. Try and see the building as it is, separate from the corporations or business practices that the design system has come to represent. Understand that the original aesthetic intentions were not that. And just because they are large-scale projects, know their design work was often done on minuscule time and budget allocations, by architects trying to do something very interesting with very little. Their features are subtle, a fact which is easy to miss on account of the buildings’ often large scale.
LL: How will preserving buildings from the 1970s inform future generations?
DP: In 2014 I gave an all-day driving tour of mirror glass office park architecture in Orange County, and by and large most of those on that tour were under 30. This look already speaks to a certain young group, perhaps as their nostalgia for a past future.
LL: What do you think are the biggest issues or challenges facing preservation in Los Angeles moving forward?
DP: Preservationists need to be discerning about what they fight for, but at the same time, neither the need for housing of various types, nor whatever whims developers have should run rampant over preservation. Courage, communication, and vision are in order.
