Perhaps it’s the associations I hold from my childhood that make me find mid-century California architecture so charming. Even the empty auto lots seem special somehow.
In the 1960s my father was building concrete warehouses, using a construction technique that at the time was quite new: tilt-up. Dad and his brother were in high demand for these projects; they were two of the very few contractors at the time who knew how to use this new technique, and they were being flown around the U.S. to supervise projects.
Mom got pretty tired of Dad being away so much, and when he got sent to build for Sylvania in LA, Mom packed us up to go join him.
I remember being astounded by and marveling at the tall palm trees that lined the road. And once we settled in at the motel which would be a little our temporary home I was confused that the TV didn’t pick up the J.P. Patches show that I was used to watching in Seattle.
Which is all just by way of saying that I was introduced to southern California at an impressionable age, and I am still fond of those certain lines and materials so widely used in the late 50s and into the 60s.