A Maverick Form among the Masses
By Arron Betsky
SPECIAL TO THE TIMES
If you get stuck in traffic trying to turn at La Cienega and Wilshire boulevards, look
to the side and you will see a bit of the myth of the West charging through Beverly Hills.
Still in the saddle after 20 years, John Wayne rides off into the sunset - at a diagonal,
carrying a curving 10-story building with him.
Strangely, the Great Western Savings Bank building has none of the pseudo-realism of either
Wayne or this "Great Horseman... the indomitable spirit of the West" (as the company calls the statue).
It is a brash and enigmatic form breaking out of the parade of straight - edged buildings with all
the fluidity of a spaceship. If Wayne represents Reagars - like romantic realism, the Great Western
Building stands for a high-class modernism. Together, these two icons bracket the idea of a bank
building in Beverly Hills, giving you something that dares you to be part of a different team.
The Great Western Savings Center is a 250,000-square-foot office building that floats on top of
a banking hall while hiding a stack of underground parking below a curving landscape of planters,
ramps, and ATMs.
Oval shapes make for very efficient floor layouts. They give you the most amount of square footage
in relationship to the core of elevators, mechanical systems, stairs and toilets that take up a
quarter of the space in most high-rises. Ovals also make nice, fluid shapes that catch your eye.
It was no doubt these two reasons that led architect William Pereira, the master of Rococo Modernism
in Los Angeles (he designed the original County Museum buildings just down the street) to choose
such a seemingly eccentric shape when he designed the Great Western building in 1972.
Unfortunately, ovals also present the designer with some big problems. First, because there are so
few of them around, they look strange in almost any urban setting. It is also difficult to assemble
them with materials such as steel and glass that are by their nature straight without causing the
round shape to fracture into unsightly planes. Finally, it is hard to give them any kind of scale,
or to enter them.
Pereira managed to make most of those disadvantages work for him. He and his team gave the Great Western
building a taut skin of steel and bronzed solar glass whole vertical elements are so closely spaced
that you barely notice the segmentation of the arc. Most of the detailing of the glass, spandrels and
frames has been kept to a minimum, so that your eye just glides over them. The almost-black coloration,
and the absence of a base or top to this pure extrusion, make the building appear like scaleless
pieces of finely honed sculpture. The two main entrances are mere indentations in the face of the
building. They are grand and clearly visible, but don't attract any attention to themselves.
The main banking hall continues to follow the simple logic of the oval. It is a two-story space
covered with small gold tiles. You feel as if you in a proper banking place, but you also feel a
sense of ease. There are not corners and few obstructions, only curving, lustrous surfaces.
Pereira and his team obviously tried to continue the curving motif in the plaza that ebbs and
flows around the eccentric placement of the building, but the eddies that erupt into spiral
fountain and garish planters seem timid by comparison with the boldness of the original gesture.
The Great Western Building is not very polite or politic. It doesn't enrich what street life thin
canyon of banks has to offer, nor does it have any interest in reflecting the nature of its site.
It is a macho kind of building, standing with inarticulate strength in an architectural desert and
daring us to just try something - or at least to deposit our money here.
Aaron Betsky teaches and writes about architecture.