Architecture

Victorian Haunted Houses

We think of Victorian houses as haunted and creepy because of changing cultural values as well as evolving design trends.

Following the American Civil War affluent families (especially in the North) built new homes in the style of the time. The style in the second half of the 19th century was Victorian architecture complete with deep porches, mansard roofs, ornate decorative trim, turrets, heavy drapes, wallpaper, etc. Victorian architecture tended to give each room a specific purpose with an overall closed floorpan.

By the early 20th century however this style was out of fashion. Design was turning towards Modernism and architecture was no different. Architects everywhere were embracing the simpler, cleaner, more open design approach of Modernism – Frank Lloyd Wright was becoming celebrated for his use of the modernist “Prairie style”. Design was moving into the future with forward-thinking ideas of progress (technological, industrial, social, etc.). In this environment Victorian homes looked increasingly behind the times both culturally and stylistically. Architects were outright rejecting what Victorian design looked-like and symbolized. Big Victorian houses, once seen as signs of prosperity were now seen as symbols of corruption – the rich getting richer, the wealth gap, and the prosperity that was unobtainable by the common person.

Out with the old, in with the new

As time marched on many older houses were torn down and replaced with new homes in the latest styles. Those who kept their Victorian homes did so because they either truly liked them or because they no longer had the money to do anything else. It’s this second group of people who let their homes go (sometimes abandoning them altogether), who were no longer able to handle the upkeep.

On the outside the elaborate wood trim would fade or chip exposing the wood to rot & crumble. On the inside the ornate trim would accumulate dust & spider webs. As the houses aged they would settle creating creaking floorboards and doors that might not stay shut, opening by themselves. If gas pipes broke and leaked they could release carbon monoxide, leading people to see visions and feel a sense of unexplained fear. All-in-all the world was moving on but these old, overgrown, decrepit, dusty, creaking Victorian homes sat in decay, stirring up emotions of failure, fear, & unease. Then pop culture put the final nail in the coffin.

From *The Addams Family* to *Stranger Things*, Victorian houses have become the go-to architectural style of spooky haunted houses.

In 1938 The Addams Family made their first appearance as a comic in The New Yorker. The creepy, kookie, macabre Addams family lived in an old haunted Victorian mansion (which has been revisited most recently in the 2022 spin-off Wednesday). In 1960 Alfred Hitchcock gave us Psycho in which Norman Bates lives with his mother (sort of) in a spooky Victorian house up on a hill. In 1964 we got The Munsters who, like the Addams Family, were a funny family of creepy misfits living in a Victorian mansion.

Today, regardless of whether they are well-kept or not, it’s hard not to not see Victorian houses as being slightly creepy thanks to shifting design trends and pop culture monsters.

Storybook Architecture

The whimsical fairy tale architectural style of 1920s southern California.

Before the eye-catching styles of Tiki or Googie, the playful architectural style of southern California was Storybook. In the 1920s & ‘30s people looked to fairy tales and European provincial architecture for inspiration.

Storybook architecture is difficult to pin down but whimsy is certainly a unifying element. Crooked roofs, off kilter windows, rustic masonry, slightly askew fences – storybook ever so slightly warps & twists buildings to be a fantastical altered version of reality.

spadena house 1921 — The Spadena House when it was originally an office in 1921.

Perhaps the most famous example of storybook is the Spadena House (aka the Witch’s House) in Beverly Hills. Built in 1921 it was designed by Hollywood art director & humorist Harry Oliver. The house originally served as an office for director Irvin Willat in Culver City but in 1926 it was moved and became the home it is today. Oliver also designed the storybook style Tam O’Shanter Inn, a Scottish themed restaurant. Opened in 1922 it was popular with both Walt Disney and his animators and influenced the art direction of 1937’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

the Tam O'Shanter in 1922 — The Tam O’Shanter’s original exterior in 1922, when it was called Montgomery’s Country Inn.

Charlie Chaplin Studios in the early 20th century.

Charlie Chaplin Studios today as Jim Henson Company Lot. As a nod to the past Kermit atop the tower is dressed as Chaplin’s famous character the Tramp.

the Hobbit Houses of Palms, LA — The Lawrence and Martha Joseph Residence and Apartments, aka the “Hobbit Houses”.

Other examples of storybook architecture include Charlie Chaplin Studios (today Jim Henson Company Lot), Lawrence Joseph’s “Hobbit Houses”, as well as the Snow White Cottages which were so nick named because they too were said to have influenced the art direction of Snow White. The Snow White Cottages were also briefly home to Elliott Smith and can be seen in David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive.

As the Great Depression hit, and other styles were born, storybook architecture faded out.

Added info: Harry Oliver’s creativity & humor took many forms. Over the decades he designed buildings in a variety of playful styles that would have been right at home in Disneyland. In his desert rat persona living in the Borrego Valley just south of Palm Springs he had a bit of fun crafting fake peglegs and scattering them around the desert. It was his practical joke to lead tourists to think they may have stumbled upon a clue to the Lost Pegleg Mine of 19th century Thomas Long “Pegleg” Smith (Pegleg Smith later was a character in Oregon Trail II).

Sunday Morning takes a tour through the Spadena House.

Why are barns red?

Barns are red because of an abundance of iron from exploding stars.

Barns get painted because it helps protect them from the elements where, if left untreated, they would rot. In the spirit of Louis Sullivan that “form follows function”, barns are painted for practical reasons more so than artistic ones. Red was originally chosen because it was the cheapest paint. It was the cheapest paint because of exploding stars.

Stardust

Iron is the most abundant element on Earth, making up 32.1% by mass. The iron on rocky planets such as Earth came from red giant stars which produced iron atoms towards the end of their lives. Once a star is producing iron it’s on a one-way ticking timeline towards going supernova. When the star finally explodes it sends elements across space, including iron.

Because of an abundance of iron in the soil, the easiest (and cheapest) paint to produce was red.

Fast-forward billions of years, in the mid 19th century American farmers began painting their barns with homemade paint. Farmers mixed skimmed milk, lime, linseed oil, and the readily available red iron oxide found in clay soil to create red paint. Red paint protected the wood from rot as well as from mold since iron oxide (rust essentially) kills mold. By the late 19th century when commercially produced paints were more widely available red paint was still cheaper than other colors and so farmers continued painting their barns red. Today barns are painted red largely out of tradition.

Acanthus Leaves

Acanthus: the plant you’ve seen in art more than you’ve seen in real life.

At the top of a Corinthian column (the kind of column found at the Pantheon, the US Capitol Building, a classical bank near you, or pretty much any Greek-inspired building that wants to be taken seriously) you will find carved acanthus leaves. Corinthian column capitals have been ornately carved with the leaves of the acanthus plant since at least 450–420 BCE but the style became popular after the Romans borrowed it (as the Romans borrowed many things from the Greeks).

The acanthus leaf motif has changed over the millennia.

The acanthus plant, and specifically the Acanthus mollis, is an invasive perennial plant that grows around the Mediterranean. Its big toothy leaves can grow to be 20 inches long and when it flowers the stalk can be taller than a person. Historically its big leaves were used to wrap and store food. The salt in the plant helped draw air out of food serving as a preservative. The acanthus was used medicinally for joint pain and burns, and for reasons that aren’t completely certain it is also called “bear’s breeches.”

The Acanthus mollis in bloom and a close-up of its giant leaves.

As the story goes, the Greek sculptor Callimachus supposedly saw a basket left on the grave of a little girl and acanthus leaves had grow around and weaved their way through the basket. Moved by this he used it as inspiration when he carved the first Corinthian column capital. The curved jagged edges of the leaves work well visually both up-close and far away (such as at the tops of columns).

Columns with acanthus leaves and basket weaving cavings — These column capitals strongly resemble the Callimachus story, as they feature acanthus leaves growing around woven baskets.

Over the following millennia the acanthus leaf motif migrated its way around art. It’s everywhere. You find it in the 19th century Arts & Crafts patterns of William Morris, it’s in arabesque patterns, it’s in carpets, furniture, wall sconces, lamps, churches, jewelry, clocks, funerary urns, etc. The acanthus is one of, if not the, most artistically represented plants in the world.

Just a few of the ways the acanthus has been used over the years.

Googie Architecture

1950s American suburban sprawl created an eye-catching architectural movement.

The American post-war economy of the 1940s boomed. With this increasing wave of affluence many Americans joined the middle class and subsequently moved to the suburbs. If you were living in the suburbs then you had to drive everywhere and as you flew down the road in your new car business owners knew they had to stand-out to be noticed. Enter, Googie Architecture.

If you threw some rocket ships, neon lights, trapezoids, and boomerangs into a 1950s blender, you’d get Googie Architecture. Googie is mid-century modern but with a lot of flair. The name comes from a now demolished Hollywood coffee shop called Googies. In 1949 famed architect John Lautner designed the Googies shop with striated lines, odd angles, and in big neon letters “GOOGIES” with eyes in the O’s. Soon other businesses created their own energetic designs, and from the late 1940s through the 1960s it was an architectural arms race for customers’ attention & dollars.

The Theme Building at Los Angeles International Airport

Today many Googie buildings are gone, replaced as design trends have changed. The Googie style McDonalds restaurants of the ‘50s with giant golden arches & cantilevered roofs, were replaced by the dull rectangular beige shingle-roofed McDonalds of the ‘70s (which were also replaced).

Still, some excellent Googie buildings live on. The Seattle Space Needle, the Theme Building at LAX, the “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas Nevada” sign, and more still stand as testaments to a mid-century space-age era where function followed form.

An added bonus: Wildwood, New Jersey is full of Googie architecture, but there it’s referred to as Doo-Wop architecture. Also with the return of American soldiers from the Pacific, 1950s America produced another kitschy architectural style known as Tiki which celebrated an exaggerated/fanciful version of South Seas Polynesian culture.

In Wildwood, NJ, Googie is called Doo-Wop architecture

More on “Less is more”

The idiom “Less is more” is by German architect Ludwig Mies van der Rohe. “Less is more” is about simplicity, that keeping things to the absolute essentials is more effective than including extraneous additional elements.

Mies

Ludiwg Mies van der Rohe was born in Germany in 1886. His architectural career started by apprenticing at various design firms but it was in Berlin in the early 20th century that he gained greater exposure to the new progressive ideas of the age. After World War I people in the Weimar Republic were living in a world of increasing industrialization with fast-paced metropolises. The old traditional social constructs were from a bygone era and weren’t compatible with the new modern industrialized world. It was in this environment that Modernism was born.

Modernism embraced new ways of thinking. As people struggled to find their place in a world broken by the old regime, modernism explored new ways forward. It found its way into design, art, literature, philosophy, music, and other fields as experimental new ways that were alternatives/rejections to the rules of the past.

Modernism was at the center of Mies’ architectural thinking and he quickly became a leader in this new school of thought. While serving as the third and final head of the famed Bauhaus design school, he realized the political climate in Germany was becoming increasingly hostile and emigrated to the USA in 1937, eventually settling in Chicago. It was in Chicago that he worked the rest of his life creating some of his masterpieces in modernist thought such as the Farnsworth House.

Less is more

His entire approach to architecture stripped designs down to the absolute essentials; removing classical architectural decorative ornamentation entirely. It was from this design philosophy that “Less is more” was born. It was a utilitarian approach where a design is more powerful the less you add. Basically a design is better the less stuff you add to it. Keep it simple.

Ornamentation served no functional purpose so it was omitted. It took Louis Sullivan’s idea that “form follows function” to the extreme. A building’s visual style should take a backseat to its purpose.

While celebrated as a design visionary and as a father of modernism, Mies’ aphorism of “Less is more” has taken on a life of its own where it is arguably more famous than he is.