Repetitious in nature, the tract home followed a basic "east-coast" blue print, creating an illusion of permanence and sustainability.

Some saw beyond the economic incentives of the tract home ideal and created a small but significant movement that intended to shape the technological possibilities of the era: The Case Study House Program. The architects involved in the Program believed that it was not only possible to provide affordable new housing, but to create an entirely new concept of home. The 36 prototype single-family homes that they built, they thought, could re-invent our relationship to nature, family and community.

Palm Springs, with its vast desert landscape and idiosyncratic topography, provided an open canvas for these and many other architects to continue experimenting. Albert Frey was one of them. In a tour of his house, Huell Howser shows us why Frey’s body of work constitutes one of the most innovative yet humble examples of mid-century architecture. As one drives into town, one can’t help but notice a parabolic structure that surges out from the desert. Originally conceived by Frey as a gas station, this dramatic building becomes a subtle icon of modern architecture.

Widely known for his mid-century architectural photography and for disseminating an earnest image of 50’s America, Julius Shulman was a witness to the optimism of the time. In most of his photographs, Shulman captures the relationship between architecture and its inhabitants, giving us a glimpse of the passionate and often dysfunctional dialogue that was at play at the time. Human occupancy, as Shulman refers to it, is the only way in which we can measure the success or failure of a man-made structure; the permanence of architecture, he believes, is defined by the often-messy business of life. Although for many of these architects (and developers), messy was not part of their vocabulary.

It is no surprise that the same hope that allowed the modern and the tract home to exist, created a gluttony in the Southern California housing market, forcing prices to boom and people to relocate. Spirals of interstates began to surge, as new communities and housing developments emerged all over the Southland. The search for the perfect single-family home pressured many of us to move further away from the city and into the suburbs. And it forced us to rely more and more, on the automobile. As extensions of our living room, cars have now become the hub of our social space. In this new idea of home, we commune and try to hold on to a semblance of family life.

It’s certainly true that living on the edge here in California poses some risks. If we look down from the vantage point of our dreams, we might get dizzy and fall. And then the arrogance, drive and contradictions of being Californian will follow us to our tombs, home to many of our secrets. Buried in the oldest existing cemetery of Los Angeles is the grave of former slave, Bridget "Biddi" Mason. She moved to California in the 1850’s and became the first African-American woman to own land in Los Angeles. Her properties were at the heart of the city’s financial district, making her one of the most important black entrepreneurs in the area. When she died, however, "Biddi" Mason was buried in an unmarked grave. It took a hundred years for the city of Los Angeles to unveil a tomb marking her name.

History doesn’t hold grudges - we know that well here in California - the future always awaits us. We also know that this place we call home, no matter how it manifests to us, will always be real and permanent.

By Juan Devis