I was fascinated to read Matthew Specktor’s article (“Read Herring,” NYRA #48/LARA #2) about the forty-year argument between the historian and critic Esther McCoy and homeowner/director Roger Corman, concerning the 1986 remodel by Craig Hodgetts of J. R. Davidson’s 1937 house for Herbert Stothart, musical director at MGM.
I was a lucky and privileged kid to grow up at 2501 La Mesa Drive. My parents, art collectors and political activists, owned the house from 1953 to 1983 (or 1984), when they sold it to the Cormans. They knew Mary Stothart Wescher (vaudeville actress and original Morton Salt girl) and restored the house, after interim owners. The property was undoubtedly in need of repairs and updates by the time Corman and Craig Hodgetts encountered it, especially after it was rented for two years to the German Consul General. By the time my parents had moved, it looked pretty forlorn, stripped of its modernist furniture, Rothkos, and Diebenkorns.
Tastes change. Everyone is allowed to build their dream house (even President Trump with the East Wing, apparently), plus the 1980s was a time of postmodern and pop, the antithesis of the International Style. But I agree with McCoy that the house renovation effectively erased a notable example of Los Angeles’s 1930s modern architecture. Most of the modernist houses of that era were modest, often built on small footprints. The La Mesa house was grand (almost a mansion), built on the second-largest lot on the street, with six to seven bedrooms (built in suites with baths and privacy in mind); a tennis court; a landscaped, curved pool; lanai with hidden bar; and a separate artist studio. Though spare, the house was luxurious in its use of space and filtered light, extensive built-in cabinetry, indoor plantings, decks, and balcony. It was an amazing architectural experience that continues to inform my life.
The high-low argument that Specktor invokes will always be with us. I, too, admire, Corman’s low-budget oeuvre. He opened the door for young filmmakers, introduced us to Jack Nicholson, and immortalized the art collector Vincent Price—though I prefer Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (1965). McCoy, as far as I know, was the main person writing about the incredible nexus of LA architects. She made the world look at Southern California differently, as a place for high design concepts and innovating spirit.