Java.March.2017

RESTORATION FANFARE
O’Donnell recalls that when he started practicing
architecture, there was a renewed sense that Palm
Springs had an important stake in the annals of
architectural history. Preservationists led this effort
by rebuilding and reestablishing the importance
of iconic buildings, learning from their successes
and failures. The “Kauffman effect,” referring to
the well-known Kauffman renovation of a Richard
Neutra house in Palm Springs, helped illustrate that a
sensitive approach, adhering to the original character
and intent of the building, was feasible.
For the unbuilt Beadle, however, current building
code restrictions, in combination with modern living
sensibilities, proved challenging to adhere to without
tweaking the plans. Sympathetic to certain societal
proclivities with respect to how people presently
dwell, O’Donnell accommodated as needed. For
example, the kitchen was on the original plans as a
minute appendage of a much larger space and placed
off to the corner. O’Donnell instead included it as a
prominent part of the loftier open-concept main living
space. During the mid-century, kitchens were not
so liberally accommodated. O’Donnell relates, “If Al
Beadle were alive today, he wouldn’t have placed the
kitchen where he did in the ’50s and ’60s.”
The site itself was purposefully chosen, balancing
the ideal mix of light and wind, maximizing views
and balancing geometry with the natural landscape.
This heady symbiotic relationship between the
elements situated the house on a familiar axis, with
expansive windows at a southern and northern
orientation and minimal glazing on the east and west
sides, which would receive the bulk of the intense
summer heat. Composed of a delicate balance of
expansive glass façades, exposed structural steel
and concrete, this material palette was indeed
de rigueur of what one would come to expect of a
Beadle. In contrast, the velvety corten steel panels
depart from this, fashioning a unique twist that
simultaneously updates the look and speaks to the
desert surroundings by mirroring and abstracting its
reddened pigment.
Typical of Beadle residences, the landscape is tied
closely to the geometric detailing of the building itself.
Often this would include any accessory “objects,”
forming an extension of the main house—most
commonly, pools. Aware of this, O’Donnell was not
enthusiastic about the prospect of visually detaching
the pool from the house, but he and Sawyer were
profoundly aware that the site, and where they had
placed the structure, wouldn’t allow for a direct,
inclusive relationship. Here, landscape dictated the
placement of this element, breaking away from Al’s
customary orthogonal processes; situated at an acute
angle from the house, creating a less than ideal
relationship between the two major elements.
The greatest trial yet came when harmonizing the
design that put a premium on supple proportions
and a strong connection to the outdoors via floor-toceiling
glass, while providing a system that would
meet stringent structural requirements, as demanded
by the home’s proximity to the San Andreas Fault,
some four miles due north. A more robust structure to
address any concerns was provided, while retaining
the form’s horizontal linearity.
Resistance to raising the ceiling, conversely, proved
more difficult. From O’Donnell’s perspective, the
house is not merely a composite of floors, walls and
a ceiling, but rather a collection of three walls and
an outdoor space. He relied heavily on this principle
when defending the original plans. Although the
experience when one is inside the Beadle space
would justify this, many homeowners and builders
habitually rely upon a common trope that higher
ceilings translates to a more spacious appeal.
“I urge those who feel this [way] to just come in and
experience the space. A nine-foot ceiling is going
to feel every bit as generous and expressive in Al’s
design, more so than a higher height, in a closed box,
with a few punched-out windows. Don’t discuss this,
just bring them in the house and let them experience
it,” said O’Donnell.
From looking at Beadle’s archival drawings, you
can tell that he struggled with the predicament of
balancing form and structure, personally. In fact, one
scheme developed for the house utilizes a cantilever
system, which is most interesting to O’Donnell.
Beadle was proposing to appropriate a cable-stayed
structure (commonly found in bridge design) by taking
the four main structural columns up through the roof
and cantilevering the building, thus allowing the floor
framing to be elegantly waif-like. O’Donnell comments:
“That is not a design direction we took. But if we
ever do this again, it might be another possibility
to try, because we could take more structural
economy out of it. His archive had both—the one we
applied, and the other one that was more daring and
interesting. Maybe that would be an Al Beadle 2.0.”
Photos courtesy O2 Architecture
Effie Bouras is a sometimes wordsmith, but mostly
an engineer with an architecture penchant, and
has created a traveling exhibit about both titled,
“Considering the Quake: Seismic Design on the Edge.”