Mark Piscitelli Men's Fashions

I got an email from Salvatore (Tore) Piscitelli, inviting me to come and take pictures at Mark Piscitelli Men's Fashions. I knew the building, a 1920's style, two-story corner store on the shady side of Green Street in the Playhouse District. I've always wondered about that building. I told Tore, "I don't do advertising!" Which isn't quite accurate. I like to tell you about interesting stores and restaurants. But what's in it for me? Maybe some architectural history.

At the store I was met by Michael Amer, who showed me around. He's very knowledgeable about the merchandise, which includes everything from suits and tuxedos to cufflinks and the store's signature scent for men. This is no off-the-rack, $99 suit warehouse. It's a men's fashion boutique. Some items are exclusive to the store, some are handmade or made to measure. And considering the quality, the prices are reasonable.

Oh, did I mention? These guys are into color.

But I wanted to know about the building. "Let's have the info, Michael," I said, "and make it snappy." Except I was more polite than that. You have to be, when folks are so well dressed.

Michael knows his stuff. The building, at 589 E. Green Street, was built in the 1920's. Its first purpose was for growing orchids. Back then the part of the store shown above had a dirt floor.

If you look in the mirror you can see the false ceiling. Above it there's a skylight that used to shine natural light on the orchids I was stepping on.

Here we look out at the elegant old building across the street, which houses corporate offices of a giant company. Neither Michael nor I had ever seen anyone enter or leave the building.

Here I am standing in the dirt again, looking out to the part of the store that was once the customer service area of the orchid place.

After the orchids it became a real estate office. In the 1980s the building housed an interior design firm, which was there until 2009 when Mark Piscitelli took it over. Before that, Mark Piscitelli was at Hudson and Green for 22 years.

Tore and I each get what we want here. He gets a plug for the store, which is lovely, carries an incredible variety of fine stuff, and smells good. I learned some Pasadena architectural history and met new people, and that's always a plus. Besides Michael I also met Frank, who was equally handsome and well dressed.

They've got quiet tones if you want them. But I don't think you're going to find a rack of slacks like these anywhere else. And ask about the chemical-free jeans.

You are welcome to stop by. You can shop, or just enjoy the building. Don't miss the cash register, even though you'll have to step on the orchids to get a good look at it.

Creative Reuse

You might want to bookmark this just for the color palette. If it doesn't work for you as a building, perhaps you'd like it in a purse. Or as food.

I like it as a building. If you want to have a look, it's at the corner of Valley Street and DeLacey Avenue, a block or two south of Old Town Pasadena.

I love this kind of architecture. The shape of that facade says "old west frontier" to me. Except the old west is wearing a new outfit, and I just adore that handbag.

Door, 6

One the way to an event in a new building. Late day shadows darken a side door in an old building. I know my preference.

I wonder what it is about older architecture that makes me like it so much? Surely not every old building is worthy, and surely not every new one is soulless. Yet it seems that way. The histories that inhabit old buildings are part of what make the structures attractive, but even without those stories it's the architecture I love. To me, older architecture is simply more beautiful than most modern stuff.

Even the rooms are more comfortable. The wood and plaster used in walls and floors, the old window glass, the softer lighting (one hopes no one has added fluorescents) and the inferior air conditioning--all these things make a building more comfortable. I even like old radiators.

I'm not exactly scientific about this, am I? I haven't made a study and I'm not going to. Architecture is an emotional issue for me.

Lincoln Heights: Architecture

Here's my shot of Manny. This little house is next door to a convenience store where we stopped for refreshments and a break.

I can't begin to show you all the architecture of Lincoln Heights in one post. It's vastly diverse and there's a lot of change going on according to Manny. A lot of gentrification. One really great project you might want to look at is the Brewery Arts Complex.

This was the original LA jail. *(update: I'm incorrect on that. See dbdubya's comments; he's a LAPD veteran and has a lifetime of knowledge of all things LAPD.) Manny says there are plans in the works to use it as some kind of housing. I don't know about you but I love this type of industrial architecture. There's something so Brazil about it, don't ask me why.

Kitty corner from jail we found confection.

That's Bellis in the door at right (and me in the middle). The street was too busy for me to step out and get you the whole building...

...but here's some detail.

And then, just around the corner, this little place. I got the impression there were once several like it along here but businesses have swallowed them up. There's a lot of manufacturing in the area. This was down near San Fernando Road and Barranca Street.

Now, this is up on Broadway (I'm tellin' you, we covered some ground!). I like this building. Brick buildings aren't the norm in Los Angeles. We have a few in Pasadena, but not many. I'm told it's because of earthquakes and I'll bet it's also because we have mild winters. Bricks are apparently winter material. This building reminds me of Chicago.

In a way, this photo exemplifies Lincoln Heights. Talk about juxtapositions: a glamorous old Victorian, plunked down in the middle of all these commercial buildings. Manny says a lot of gentrification happens in the neighborhood when folks with money buy these homes to live in them and fix them up. It can be a good thing: the neighborhood gets new people (with means) who care what happens there.

We saw this jewel as we hightailed it toward the train station. I was tired by then and I don't know what direction we were going or what street we were on. But damn. I mean--damn. Who's going to make a building like this today?

Tomorrow I'm not going to show you turkey. I like turkey, but I have this nagging feeling that tomorrow you can see turkey just about anywhere. So tomorrow I'm going to show you more of Lincoln Heights.

Throat-Clearing

Just south of yesterday's photo is this empty building. I had stopped to take pictures of the Bellefontaine Nursery building when this one gave a sharp whistle and said, "Hey! Take my picture, too."

I think this is the structure a friend of mine meant when she commented on Facebook about yesterday's picture of the Bellefontaine building. "I love the brick building next to it. I've been after the owner for years to rent it to me. It's empty and doing nothing. It would make a cute sandwich shop."

You know, it would. And right there amid the Huntington Hospital complex, somebody could make some money.

I'm aware some people are going to look at this and see a tear-down but I like every detail, from the dry, cracked wood at the bottom of the green door to the tattered curtains in the windows. Imagine the musty smell inside. What's in there, do you suppose? What did this place used to be? Do traces of its former purpose linger? Dishes? Old wires? A printing press?

I've never studied architecture and I was a lukewarm student of history. Now, though, perhaps because I'm getting older (as old as some charismatic architecture), buildings are beginning to tell me stories. Some are louder and more articulate than others but all of them talk, and the older they get the more they have to say.

Heritage Square: Enchantment

The Hale House.

When John and I were first dating we once stopped by the Heritage Square Museum. It was closed, but we always meant to go back. A peek down the quiet avenue was a glimpse into history.

Every time I drive by on the Pasadena Freeway and see the Victorian spires peeking out over the rooftops of Montecito Heights, I wonder: What's in there? Last Sunday I found out. If I were allowed only one word to describe what's in there, I would say "enchantment."

Heritage Square Museum is a mini-neighborhood of eight buildings, all built between 1876 and 1899 and all moved from their previous locations. (Plus there's a pretty cool old train car.) The five houses, one train depot, one carriage barn and one church are in different phases of preservation. Some are fully restored and furnished, some are still being studied and planned, almost all can be toured. Most of them are examples of Victorian and Edwardian architectural styles now rare in southern California.
Close-up of the train car, a recent museum acquisition.

Originated in 1969 as a haven for the last two remaining structures from Bunker Hill, Heritage Square Museum serves "to preserve, restore and interpret" structures that were saved from demolition and transported to this spot. Three of them (the Longfellow-Hastings Octagon House, the Carriage Barn and the Lincoln Avenue Methodist Church) are from Pasadena.
Looking toward the Valley Knudsen Garden Residence from the porch of Hale House.

The original Bunker Hill buildings are no longer there. Just seven months after they were moved to Heritage Square they burned in a vandal's fire. (I encourage you to enjoy the Bunker Hill links. They are amazing.)

I took 271 photos on my tour. I'll post more over the next few days. I promise not to post them all.

How many times have you driven by Heritage Square Museum and wondered? Just go. Be enchanted. And I recommend you take a date.
Part of a collection of antique manhole covers at the museum.

Caltech

I toured the Caltech campus yesterday afternoon. My friend Barbara works there, and was kind enough to show me around. I took tons of pictures. I gasped a lot, and not just at how pretty the place is.

Caltech is more than just a campus. It's a think tank, a treasure of astronomical history, and a bastion of scientific brainwork. It's where the great minds of yesterday, today and tomorrow come together to create science as art.

Changes are happening at Caltech, just like everywhere. More pics to come.

Laurie's Challenge

On January 11th, Laurie posed a challenge on her Glimpses of South Pasadena blog: "...show me your local Craftsmans!"

The reason she did so is we're having trouble photographing them. Well sure, you can see this house. You can tell it's a Craftsman home. But can you see the porch? No. It's so well shaded I'd have to take professional lighting equipment up there to get you a shot of it.

Pasadena's famous Craftsman homes were built in the early part of the 20th Century by - well, by craftsmen, who knew what they were doing. I've never been inside this house but I'll bet it stays warm in winter and cool in summer. The owners probably don't have to turn on the air conditioning until at least noon even on the hottest southern California days. The walls are thick. The windows are shaded from direct sunlight.

Craftsman houses are simple, made with fine materials. I find them beautiful. Many are painted in dark colors and it's hard to get a good shot of them because they hide in their own shadows.

As soon as I read Laurie's challenge I knew this was the house I wanted to photograph. The first time I saw it three years ago it was weathered and tired. But the new owners have brought it back to its former glory. If only you could see the porch!

Appealing Court

The Richard H. Chambers U.S. Court of Appeals building is stunning on any day from any angle. But when you're walking in the Arroyo with clouds mumbling above, it's impossible to resist snapping away. Snap snap snap snap snap whine whine....oh, was I doing something else?

The building was originally a luxury hotel, though very little of the original structure remains. Between 1920 and 1937, four different architects took part in designing the new hotel. Sylvanus Marston, Garrett Van Pelt, Myron Hunt and George H. Wiemeyer all had a hand in creating the structure we see today. It was remodeled in the 1980s "under the design direction of" J. Rudy Freeman of Neptune & Thomas, and from what I hear it's magnificent inside. Since I've never been involved in a federal case, I haven't had the pleasure of finding out for myself.

Read the link. It sounds luscious. I need to see if I can get in there sometime. You know, just wander around a Federal Courts building and take pictures. Shouldn't be a problem.

Superfluous Detail: Playhouse Alley

They didn't have to do this. They didn't have to put that shield, or whatever it is, on the side of the building. It's in an alley, for heaven's sake. Nobody sees it. But they did it anyway, so it's a superfluous detail, and that's why I love it.

This one's on the Pasadena Playhouse building, the south side, looking out over Playhouse Alley. Those scallops on the lower part are shadow from the building next door. Click on the picture to enlarge it so you can see the little lion heads on the soffits. (The soffits are above El Molino Avenue. Just look up!)

All these lovely details were designed for the Playhouse by Pasadena architect Elmer Grey. The 1924 structure has an illustrious history. It has always been a great theatre. May it always remain so.

Observers

This little-known gem is part of The Carnegie Observatories, a venerable institution that's been around since 1904, when George Hale got the idea to hit up the Carnegie institute for the money.

The simple, classically-styled building pops up at 813 Santa Barbara Street, a residential side street off of Lake Avenue. If traffic never got tight on Lake you might not know it was there. Hey! You can observe them! They give tours! And they're having an open house November 16th.

The plaque dedicates the building to George Ellery Hale, the first director of the Observatory, and notes that the "building was erected in 1912. Myron Hunt, Architect." Mr. Hunt designed many of Pasadena's most beautiful homes including that of Henry E. Huntington (now a gallery of the Huntington Library), as well as such other southern California landmarks as Occidental College in Eagle Rock, Pasadena's Public Library and the Rose Bowl.

Here's a side door. The sign in the window says "no skateboarding." I picture guys and gals with Einstein hair, whipping their wheels off that porch and onto the sidewalk.

Superfluous Detail: Professional Lamp

The Professional Building at 65 N. Madison Avenue is one of Pasadena's quieter architectural gems. You've been by it; it sits on the southwest corner of Madison and Union. The internet is strangely silent about it, so I welcome tips from readers on who the architect was or when it was built. My guess is 1920s or 1930s. It's got a bit of Deco flair to it.

If you aren't lucky enough to have a doctor, lawyer or accountant in the building, there's a pharmacy and a coffee shop on the first floor. A reasonable excuse to drop by and pretend you're Hildy Johnson for a few minutes. If that's reasonable.

View to a View

In another life I would have studied architecture. Maybe I'll do so yet in this life. I know a building can make a person feel many things: intimidated, safe, wealthy, poor, lonely or loved. Great cathedrals stir our hearts. Halls of justice hush our voices. Ancient ruins wake us to our dreams.

Pasadena City Hall offers serenity. I don't know how a structure can do that, but again and again I find it to be true. When City Hall was designed in the mid-1920s by the architectural firm of Bakewell and Brown, they did several things to create serenity. One was to make the building symmetrical, which soothes the senses. Another was to build a courtyard and add a fountain and benches, making a cloistered garden for contemplation and quiet.

Then they created views. No matter where you look, they've placed something there for you to see. At every angle there's a beautiful scene, a "photo op," if you will. I return again and again to take pictures; it's hard to take a bad one of the place. But the photos aren't the only reason I go.

(Check out Pasadena PIO for archival shots of City Hall's construction.)

Got $7.733 Million?

Pasadena has a Frank Lloyd Wright house. Just one. And it's on the market.

It's called "La Miniatura," and it's considered one of Wright's masterpieces, according to this article. That can be good or bad for me, should I decide to buy it. For instance, I wouldn't want tourists lining up in my driveway and peeking around my fence every day. But the house is tucked away in a ravine above the Arroyo Seco. It looks lovely and quiet from the street, and unless you're willing to trespass, you can only peek onto the grounds. Click the article link above and scroll to the bottom for more photos.

Alice Millard, one of Pasadena's early arbiters of taste, paid $17,000 for the house when it was built for her in 1923. It was an expensive home in its day.

The house is called "La Miniatura," but I think I'll have room for all my stuff in 4,000 square feet. Maybe not. You know how things accumulate.

Chambers' Nighttime Chambers

I took this photo of the Richard H. Chambers U.S. Court of Appeals Building the same day as yesterday's, an hour or two later, while at the annual Colorado Street Bridge party.

I couldn't find much on the web about Richard H. Chambers himself, except that he was the judge whose idea it was to bring a Federal courthouse to Pasadena. There's plenty of information about the building, however. Here's a nice gloss on the place, with photos and information. Even a map.

I'm currently on vacation, so responding to comments may happen in an untimely fashion, which means I may not be quick about it and I'll probably be wearing something that's way out of date.

White Sky

While on the Colorado Street Bridge for the July 19th festival I took this photo of the Richard H. Chambers U.S. Court of Appeals Building, another Pasadena icon everyone loves to photograph. The building originally opened in 1903 as the Vista Del Arroyo Hotel, thus beginning its fascinating history.

I'm not sure if the rooftops in the foreground are of condos or a private home. We called it "Casa de Escher." Click on the shot below to enlarge it and get a better idea of why.

None of this explains the color of the sky.
While on vacation I might not be able to respond to comments as quickly as I'd like to, so please bear with me, or bear without me, or just bear.

Andrews' Italian Cousin

Despite the striking tower (pictured yesterday), my favorite architectural feature of Saint Andrews Catholic Church is this rounded projection which (since I've never been inside) I presume to be at the back of the nave behind the chancel, where the altar might be. (Here's a church diagram.)

Sure enough, the Roman church said to have inspired this one has a feature very much like it. Not only does Santa Sabina have the same arched windows, but the stone is also of a similar hue. (Click on the Santa Sabina link to see a photo of the Roman basilica. The photo below is of the Pasadena church.) The Roman basilica, built in 432 AD, has some nice pock marks that ours doesn't have. I'd like to stay around a few hundred years and see ours do some graceful aging.

The only unfortunate thing about the local building I can see, architecturally speaking, is that the rear of it is crowded against the funeral home. You can't get a good look at the back. But I suppose that has a convenience all its own.

Saint Andrews Catholic Church: the Tower

The tower of Saint Andrews Catholic Church, built in 1927, is one of Pasadena's most-photographed landmarks. Ben has a very cool shot of it, which I hesitated to link to because I mentioned in the comments I thought it was part of the funeral home next door. Well, that was back in the days when I wasn't perfect.

Wikipedia's article about Saint Andrews says "The architect, Robert Montgomery, and the church's pastor, Msgr. McCarthy, both traveled to Italy studying early Byzantine architecture to find inspiration for the new church." They found inspiration in Saint Sabina's basilica in Rome, which was built in 432 A.D. A photo I'll show you tomorrow bears a good resemblance.

Bridge Night

One night each year, Pasadena Heritage invites everyone in town over for bridge. Colorado Street Bridge, that is. They shut down traffic and from dusk 'til long after dark, Pasadena parties all across its favorite icon.

There's food, entertainment, more food...John and I first walked from one end of the bridge to the other (as did many people) to case the joint first and see what our choices were. We settled on beer from the Craftsman Brewing Company, which was so delicious that—well, let's just say "settled" is absolutely the wrong word; and barbecued pork sandwiches from Big Mama's Rib Shack, which were so delicious that—well, let's just say now I know why Mama is so big.

Various local organizations were there to show off not only what they do but what they contribute to Pasadena. We visited the Pasadena Heritage booth to thank them for the party. They've been instrumental in helping to preserve much of Pasadena's heritage, including important structures such as the Herkimer Arms and the very bridge on which we were standing. We even stopped by to visit our favorite heroes at the Altadena Mountain Rescue Team booth, which was being personned by the very team member who experienced her first rappel while I photographed it July 10th.

I'm not sure who worked harder last night: the barbecue servers or the guys pouring the beer or the security guards or the musicians or the volunteers from various organizations. But they all made it a great evening for those of us who didn't do a darned thing but enjoy it.

Hey! There's a new blog in town. Check out Laurie Allee's Glimpses of South Pasadena. A beautiful addition to the SGV blog family.

Memorial to Love

The Church of the Angels looks large from the outside, but Kelly, my tourguide, told me it holds only about 130 people "tightly packed." In part, the church was meant to be a place of worship for the people of the village of Garvanza, now the section of Los Angeles surrounded by South Pasadena, Highland Park, Eagle Rock and Pasadena.

But mainly this church was built by Mrs. Alexander Robert Campbell-Johnston as a memorial to her husband. She had the the means to demonstrate her love in a most impressive way. Expensive appointments abound; in the photo you can see the red pressed brick of the walls and beginnings of the upper redwood beams. The lectern resembling the Archangel Michael was carved in Belgium from a solid piece of a bog oak tree more than 400 years old. The baptistry, with a figure of Italian marble holding a font of Mexican alabaster, was a gift from the workmen who built the church. (I'm saving the stained glass window for tomorrow.)

In front of the church, a stone sundial in a heart-shaped setting is a memorial to Mrs. Campbell-Johnston, donated by her sons. And over the years, the congregation has maintained the whole place with care.

Money made the place impressive, but it's the love that makes it special.