65
Left: boxy volume
elevation, 1964. Pencil on
tracing paper. Opposite
page, bottom: plan and
volume study, 1964. Pencil
on tracing paperIntroversion was achieved not only with the
overall enclosure of the walls, but also, according
to the office, by the radical avoidance of outside-
facing conventional openings, except in the
kitchen, as explained in 1970: “Except for a deep
slot into the kitchen, there are no windows at eye
level facing the street. A clerestory skylight admits
north light, preferred for design work, into the
studio, while a similar clerestory in the bedroom
faces east. All other windows face screened views
or are located high in the wall. Street noise is
eliminated through the use of sound-proofed doors
and double-thickness walls with an air space.^9 ”
The deliberate use of solid, orthogonal volumes
reveals a change of orientation in Gehry’s work,
as he would later admit: “we did several studies
and, I think, personally, I was very smitten with
Louis Kahn at the time. I would guess that had a
strong influence on me, because up to that time I
was doing everything Japanese style – coming out
of school.”^10 Walsh also affirms that both Danziger
and Gehry were enamoured of concrete, in the
Corbusian tradition, while Gehry would say: “I
was looking at Kahn a lot, but I was also looking
at Corb.”^11 In a more vernacular vein, echoes of
the ubiquitous “dumb boxes” of Los Angeles are
easy to detect.
The initial idea was to use concrete for the
structure, so as to obtain a texture and colour that
did not need painting and would resist wear. Gehry
and Walsh were interested in the look of the
underside of freeways – another Angeleno feature.^12
But no public works contractor accepted to take
on such a small job and, according to Walsh,
“eventually, the buildings turned out to be done
in wood studs and stucco, with the apparent bulk
and look of concrete, in the Corbusian manner.”^13
Gehry has described the process: “Whatever was
in my consciousness, I loved raw rough stucco. No
buildings were being done with that. They call it
‘tunnel mix.’ It was underneath the freeways. Under
the freeways they’d spray it on. So I asked the
plastering contractor to do it, and they said they
couldn’t; they didn’t know how. An artist friend
was building a little studio in Venice. I told him
what I was looking for. He said it sounded great,
and if I wanted to use his garage to experiment
on, he wouldn’t mind. I found out what the
equipment for tunnel mix was. I went to the U-Haul
and rented it, mixed the plaster, and did it myself.
I met a lot of artists
because they came tolook at my building
under constructionI sprayed it on the garage, and it was beautiful!
Then I brought the contractor down, showed him
the equipment, showed him the walls, and that’s
how the Danziger building was made.”^14
Two layers of this long-sought-after stucco were
applied to a wood frame, a layer of air insuring
thermal and acoustic protection. According to
Walsh, “The bulk of the house was such that
construction was double studs, because we wanted
the walls to appear thick.”^15 In some sketches,
vivid coloured surfaces were envisioned, but in
the end natural cement colour prevailed, as a
preventive strategy against the offenses of time.
Gehry indicates: “we studied various colored
cements and found there was a great variety from
almost olive drab to light, whitish blue-gray. We
chose the latter. The idea that he would never have
to paint the building was important.”^16 This aspect
is underlined in the building’s 1970 presentation
for an AIA Award, which declares that “the surface
is reasonably compatible with the dirt and grime
which, predictably, did accumulate.”^17
The studio interior, in which the darkroom forms
a box, is lined with white plastered walls, with theroofing frame and ventilation ducts left visible.
The visual atmosphere created by the variety of
openings is carefully defined, as Gehry recalls: “I
was also concerned here with trying to get natural
light in and the mix of warm light and cool light
for an artist’s studio. I objected to the all north-
light studios, so I mixed the light at the back end
and through the skylight, so it was not obtrusive,
but it was mixed above eye level.”^18 According to
him, in the end Danziger “decided not to hire an
assistant and he bought a pool table and he started
becoming a billiards guy”.^19
Acknowledged locally by Esther McCoy, the
building won Gehry his first article in the national
press, and had a decisive role in connecting him
to local artists, as he recalled in 1999: “While the
building was under construction, I saw this crazy
guy standing on the building site. It was [Ed] Moses.
And then, every time I would go over there, someoneelse would be hanging around. Moses spread the
word that this building was going up, and that it
was different. That was how I met Ken Price, and
Billy Al Bengston came to see it, too. I met a lot of
artists around this time because they came to
look at my building under construction.”^20 Is it
too far-fetched to see an ironic expression of this
curiosity in the grey volume featured in David
Hockney’s contemporary Picture of Melrose Avenue
in an Ornate Gold Frame, despite the sign locating
the scene 12 blocks away?
Subsequently, Gehry would take his distance
from this “attempt to create a marginal, controlled
world within the messiness of the LA urban
environment”. He would say in 2006: “when I did
it, everybody was very impressed, but I realized
that neglecting a potential interface with the city
was a very limiting attitude.”^21 Yet, this autonomous
building signed a fundamental point of inflexion
in the architect’s early trajectory.Jean-Louis Cohen (Paris 1949) is an architect,
architectural historian and teacher. He is currently
Sheldon H. Solow Professor in the History of
Architecture at NYU.65
(^11) Gregory Walsh, in Mildred
Friedman, p. 116; Frank Gehry, in
Gehry Talks – Architecture +
Process, edited by Mildred Friedman,
Rizzoli, New York 1999, p. 46.
(^12) Gregory Walsh, conversation with
Jean-Louis Cohen, 2 July 2015.
(^13) Gregory Walsh, in Mildred
Friedman, p. 116.
(^14) Frank Gehry, in Gehry Talks, p. 46.
(^15) Gregory Walsh, in Mildred
Friedman, p. 116.
(^16) Frank Gehry, in The Architecture
of Frank Gehry, Walker Art Gallery,
Minneapolis 1986, p. 185.
(^17) AIA Honor Awards Program, 1970.
(^18) Frank Gehry, in The Architecture
of Frank Gehry, p. 185.
(^19) Frank Gehry, interview with
Barbara Isenberg, Tape 14.
(^20) Frank Gehry, in Frank O. Gehry /
Kurt W. Forster, Cantz, Ostfildern
1999, p. 60.
(^21) Frank Gehry, in Alejandro
Zaera-Polo, Conversations with
Frank O. Gehry, in Frank Gehry
1987-2003, El Croquis, Madrid 2006,
p 16.