In 2010, architect Savin Couelle took me to see and document a few houses he’d completed in the 1970s on Cavallo, a private island located about a mile off the coast of Bonifacio, Corsica. Recently I found film from the trip in a forgotten box stashed away.
I took these photographs from a small speed boat that was operating at full throttle, with my old Canon EOS3 and some inadequate lens that I can’t recall and, moreover, while simultaneously doing my best to focus on my host, Couelle, who was in my ear animatedly describing each scene as it blurred before us. I just had to get a few quick photographs, though, as Cavallo isn’t exactly within my normal reach. It was an unforgettable boat ride.
Overall, there’s so much that’s right about how they’ve built on the island. Big money, a Cavallo requirement, doesn’t always do it this way, the concept of “sensitively small.”
Odds are you’ll never get to Cavallo. And with that in mind, I wanted to post a portion of the pictures here on the blog. (By the way, you can see the great Couelle’s houses on Cavallo in my book Handmade Houses.)
Ninety-one-year-old photographer and painter Larry Moyer, the iconoclast’s iconoclast, is one of the best parts of my chapter on the 1960s–70s Sausalito houseboat counterculture in my forthcoming book California Green. This pic, taken from the deck of the S.S. Vallejo, the former residence of Jean Varda and Alan Watts, is an outtake from one of my many unforgettable Larry sessions over the last few years.
And here’s a clip from Saul Rouda and Roy Nolan’s 1974 film THE LAST FREE RIDE, which stars Moyer (see 3:22), among other Sausalito waterfront hedonists. Best of all, the clip includes rare footage of the late Chris Roberts‘s architectural-salvage masterpiece, the houseboat called The Madonna (see 0:17).
“An Island in Time, Point Reyes,” the Sierra Club documentary (there’s also the counterpart book), was shot on 16mm film, on land and from the air, by wildlife photographer and filmmaker Laurel Reynolds. Made as part of a late-1950s grassroots effort to protect the Drake’s Bay area from the threatened construction of “rubber-stamped houses, row after row,” the film, despite the unprecedented access granted to Reynolds and her camera crew by local ranch owners, almost didn’t see a release. As the story goes, the Sierra Club’s David Brower had asserted the right of final cut, and the filmmaker wasn’t happy with his choices—so much so that she pulled the plug and defiantly sat on the material. Years later, the two eventually reconciled and they did release the film. But by then, the development threat had been lifted and the very cause upon which the documentary had been conceived was gone; in 1962, Point Reyes had been officially designated as a National Seashore.
Still Reynolds’ An Island in Time proved to be such an intimate portrait of this largely inaccessible portion of unspoiled California coast that it was destined to become a classic of the genre, one that’s fortunately now in the public domain through the University of California’s The Bancroft Library. The narration aside, it holds up as a sublime piece of work.
Here’s the entire 28-minute film.
footnote: pp. 41–43 of: http://digitalassets.lib.berkeley.edu/roho/ucb/text/sc_women3.pdf
I’ve been in the trenches working on this new book for so long, I know even some of my many participants, not to mention friends and family, are wondering what’s up. Am I still alive? Is the book still happening?
The update from the fighting front is, I’m making good progress and closing in on completion of the writing. If you were expecting to get a call from me before my completion but have not, please don’t be alarmed. You’ll hear from me soon.
Part of the delay has simply been the enormous scope of the material. Over the course of two years, I photographed nearly 100 buildings from San Diego to Humboldt for it and interviewed as many people (those parts of it are done). This is a big book. If you read the little blurb above, I think you’ll get a feeling for where this is headed. It’s a story that hasn’t been told.
That cover design featuring the house on the coast, by the way, is only a temp thing I put together so I’d have a visual to represent my editorial concept, something to show as I went around conducting field research and doing the interviews and the photography. (That particular house is one of the book’s featured houses.) Rizzoli, my publisher, has not begun the process of designing the book, as, well, I’m still writing it! Even the title is not completely set. But this is indeed real, and on that note, I’ll get back to it. Thanks for your interest in this book. —Richard
RIP stonemason Ralph Byrne (1934–2015)
Richard Stratman (1933–2014), a California painter, architect, and handmade house builder of unusual prowess, was an integral part of a small group of Esalen staff who drove the green-building agenda at the Institute during the early Carter Administration years. Also along the Big Sur coast in the late 1970s, Stratman built thrilling cliffside and ridgetop houses designed by architects Mickey Muennig and George Brook-Kothlow (in adobe and in bridgetimber respectively). The guy did a lot of work that moved people.
I tracked him down and began interviewing him in 2012. Late last year, following a long illness, Stratman died.
To date, Stratman’s been a largely unsung hero of the scene. That status is finally corrected in my forthcoming book California Green: Houses of the Environmental Movement, from Handmade to High Technology, which, dare I say, is nearing completion and will be published internationally by Rizzoli next year.
You can read Stratman’s obituary in the Carmel Pine Cone (see p. 12) here.
A side note for the CabinPorn ilk: These images are Copyright Protected. Please be respectful; Do not repost publicly or republish without authorization. Thanks. —Richard Olsen
That uplifting blast of vivid color that stained-glass windows brings to interiors, a symbol of quality so inseparable from the handwork-heavy image of the high-end Craftsman-era bungalows and Spanish Colonial Revival houses and certainly the 1960-70s handmade house, is sorely missing in the new residential construction where I live in Los Angeles. And I seldom see it in the magazines. Stained glass doesn’t have to be strictly an Arts & Crafts deal. In fact, it was a part of the educational program at the high temple of Modernism, the Bauhaus in Germany. (Have you seen what Josef Albers did with stained-glass windows?) So what happened? Where did it go? Why don’t we see more of it in new construction? I have my theories on this but I’d be interested to hear your thoughts. Leave a comment below.
In the meantime, Chicago-based stained-glass artist Larry Zgoda, whom I happily discovered through my research on the all-too-little-known Edgar Miller, carries on with this work, continually elevating the artform for an ever-discerning clientele. Next week, he’s having a big show that’s not to be missed. Here’s some of Zgoda’s art and a link to more info.
Making an exception to my rule of posting only house stuff on the blog. This is my neighbor here in Laurel Canyon. Enjoy…