Think about your gifts

Before I was old enough to know who the architects behind it were, I was an enormous fan of modern architecture. Later in my reading I discovered the names: Wright, Le Corbusier, Johnson, Lautner and especially Neutra. Glass walls retracting to bring in the outside, fountains and pools inside and out, houses on the edges of hills--these were the kinds of things I wanted to have, build and live in. Their clean, simple lines were turned into works of art by the photographer Julius Shulman. His camera seemed to love the architecture of Neutra, and over the years I've collected many books with his photos of Neutra houses.

Most of Neutra's work was for clients building their personal homes, so photos were as close as I thought I'd come to seeing his work (except for a few nondescript facades in the Valley, mostly covered with foliage). His remaining houses are in private hands, and more are destroyed as the years go by. And my dream of owning one is probably out of reach now too, as the recent modern craze has people restoring them (which I appreciate) and purchasing them at stratospheric prices (which I don't appreciate). I am fortunate to live in a historic landmark somewhat inspired by Neutra, but was lucky enough to purchase it before its value soars stratospherically (wishful thinking).

I was excited to see, then, that this year the architect's own home, the VDL Research House II, in Silverlake, would be open for tours on the weekends, with just a $10 charge. The house was left to Cal Poly Pomona University in 1990 by the architect's widow with the hope that it would be open to the public and used for architectural teaching and study. It has occasionally been open on tours since then, but access has, to my understanding, been mostly for private university functions and use by the architecture faculty/students.

I took the tour, and it was an amazing experience. Mostly because it wasn't the roped-off, limited access, Plexiglas-covered historical house tour, but it was a walk through the house with complete access, in the condition it pretty much was when he lived there. Once the tour was over, we were free to stay and wander around the house and take it all in. Maybe another Neutra-geek's thrill has matched mine that day, but I doubt it.

At the same time, it's a bit sad, seeing all the work the house needs--it has the same maintenance issues our houses all have...there hasn't been water in the reflecting pools for a long time because they leak. The roof leaks in several places, evidenced outside by the blue tarp and inside by the loose plaster on the ceiling. The elaborate lighting systems are off. The floors are stained. The giant louvers at the front haven't worked for years. All those fantastic machined metal surfaces could use some polishing.

The website devoted to the house explains why, and perhaps the reason for the new public access--the $100,000 left by the widow to cover expenses ran out quickly, and the school's administration (not its faculty or students) has apparently seen the house as more of a bother than an asset. It survived on a small $10,000 budget per year, with architecture professors fortunate enough to live in the guesthouse and maintain the home. Then that funding dried up, and "Friends of the VDL House" have been scrambling to raise funds to prevent its sale to a private party. They've raised the initial $30,000 to keep it open, and are now working on the $1,000,000 needed by the end of next year to fund the endowment to keep it open perpetually and make the necessary repairs. I've already donated, and I'm sure they'll get more money from me too. It's one of L.A.'s treasures--take a look at www.neutra-vdl.org. Even if they're not successful in raising the money, it's all the more reason to get a look before it's sold to a private collector for an unheard-of price.

As an estate planner, I wished I could have had the input on the original plan by the architect's wife, Dione Neutra. She had the best of intentions, and most likely talked them over with the recipient, but somewhere the plan went wrong. It's planning for the "Plan B" what-ifs that distinguish a good plan from a great plan, as life has a way of working out differently than your plans. Just ask the families of the people who left their treasures to the state parks system and now hear we have to prepare for wide-scale park closures. By the way, I didn't get my law degree and license until four years after Mrs. Neutra's death, so I wouldn't have had the opportunity to advise her anyway, and my youthful inexperience wouldn't have helped either.

Speaking of youthful inexperience, I can remember one of the first wills I drafted where the client was so happy to leave his house to his granddaughter and her new husband. Shortly after he died, I found out they didn't really want it because he'd mortgaged it to the limit to buy cars, home additions, a gi-normous pool, and the list goes on--they felt they couldn't afford the monthly payments that came with the otherwise humble house. And then there was the recently released (from prison) son, who thought he should have the house, moved in, and didn't want to hear otherwise. I didn't have the guts then to ask him what he'd been in for, but I knew he'd been away a long time, he was a big guy and the rest of the family was afraid of him. He was civil to me in my office, but he also didn't understand that the money to pay the mortgage had to come from somewhere, and now that his father died and the pension was gone, there was no money to pay it. The house was lost to foreclosure, and the family split up the client's once-fancy cars by then dessicated in the hot L.A. sun.

Then there's the island off British Columbia left to Orange Coast College in 2002. They held classes there for a time, and thought of a research facility, but soon worried about the $200,000 in annual maintenance costs and the logic of having a campus "1,200 miles away in a foreign country" as they put it. It was sold this year for $2.19 million to some Canadians excited to have it.

Fans of Huell Howser (aren't we all?) may remember the show he did at the Petersen Automotive Museum which included a peek at all the cars in storage that may never be displayed.

With careful planning, these results can be avoided--not always, but often.

Fulfillment of the law

I came across a verse today in church that stayed with me all day, from Romans 13:9, 10: "The commandments, 'Do not commit adultery,' 'Do not murder,' Do not steal,' 'Do not covet,' and whatever other commandment there may be, are summed up in this one rule: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' Love does no harm to its neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law."

For me there's no better way to sum up the ultimate advice: Love does no harm to its neighbor. If people lived by that, or at least made better efforts to do so, what a much better place this world would be. That cuts out quite a few of the things we do, our governments do, our religions do, our societal structures do. There's a lot of justifications made for harming our neighbors, but in the end they're justifications for actions that lead to more violence, hatred, greed and heartache.

They also give me a job. I can't believe some of the awful things people do to each other, especially family. I'm still amazed when I hear stories of trusted family members looting others' inheritances, or even stealing it while the owner's still alive and wasting away under shockingly awful care. Love does no harm to its neighbor. And there's not much wiggle room, as "neighbor" pretty much includes everybody. Whatever one's religious belief, if any, it seems difficult to argue with this idea.

Once damage has been done, and redress is sought in the courtroom, lawyers prepare the case for trial, as they should. However, the best solutions are reached before trial, especially in mediation, after both sides consider the position of the other. If respect, and the possibility of reconciliation, are given, resolution is possible. With the idea of doing no harm to your neighbor, the best, and even the most advantageous, solutions happen.