The Global Grandma: The Adamson Family Home, Malibu, California.

The Adamson Family Home,

Los Angeles Through a Tourist's Eyes.

Tale Three.

Finally, I got around to writing the tale about the Adamson House museum in Malibu. Hurray! Let's take a break from routine and the mundane, chat a little, gossip a little, with Gemini to help me, because I have no one to sit on the bench in front of the house with! Join in, won't you?

Rhoda Agatha Rindge Adamson received thirteen thousand acres of land as a wedding gift.

(What did you get as a wedding gift? If you even got one... And do you think it's necessary to give wedding gifts? Oh, I must stop, or I won't be able to talk about the museum again!)

Rhoda's mother (whom you know a bit if you read the previous tales, that's the very May Rindge – the "Queen of Malibu") cut off a piece of land for her from the family's Malibu ranch. She chose the most picturesque area, known as Vaquero Hill, right on the edge of the Malibu Lagoon and Surfrider Beach. It was here in 1929 that the construction of the house for her daughter and son-in-law, Rhoda and Merritt, the Adamson family, began. Now it's that famous museum.

(So, we're parking the car right on the freeway shoulder—the struggle against the freeway's construction undermined May Rindge's financial stability—and heading into the museum.)

I told you what I heard from the volunteer guide who led us through the Malibu house.

(By the way, there will be no photos in the story taken inside the house; photography is forbidden there, they say the flash damages the surfaces... that they want to preserve, protect, and prevent... Anyway, it's forbidden, and that frankly irritates me terribly. But rules are rules, and we abide by them.)

But something in the guide's story made me uneasy. I'll tell you the information again, in more detail. I wonder if you will also doubt its veracity?

So, there were a mother and father: May Rindge (full name Rhoda May Knight Rindge) and Frederick Rindge (Frederick Hastings Rindge, respectively).

They had three children: two sons (Samuel Knight Rindge and Frederick Hastings Rindge, but they don't interest us in this tale, or almost don't) and... The second child in the family was the beloved only daughter, Rhoda. If you noticed, the name Rhoda was passed down the female line: the maternal grandmother, the mother, and the daughter-granddaughter proudly carried it.

The Rindge family lived in Santa Monica, as well as in a Victorian mansion on the Malibu ranch.

The daughter was raised with a love for nature, taught horseback riding from childhood, which she loved very much, and also, as they will tell you in the museum, she loved old castles. However, she also loved herding sheep with her father on the ranch.

(The Internet reports this, though you don't actually think the father and daughter were really herding sheep, do you?! And who wouldn't enjoy riding out on a purebred horse, touring their fields, and "herding" their sheep?!)

Rhoda studied at the prestigious private girls' school "Casa de Rosas." She graduated in June 1910 and enrolled at Wellesley College in Massachusetts, where she studied for only a year: she dropped out without a degree due to "homesickness for California." Oh, I forgot to add: Rhoda was also interested in car racing.

(Have you formed her image? Can you picture her? - I continue.)

In 1911, she returned to California, in 1915, she got married.

The bride - Rhoda Agatha Rindge - was the only daughter of Frederick and May Rindge, the wealthiest people in California.

The groom - Merritt Huntley Adamson - was the superintendent of their Malibu ranch, although he had graduated from the University of Southern California Law School.

(Have you looked at the photographs? Both are incredibly beautiful! They knew how to take photos in the last century, however, it's not just the photographer's skill, but also the soft-focus lenses of good cameras. They weren't taken with a phone! The portraits are so romantic, aren't they?)

And the newlyweds received a plot of land as a wedding gift.

(But that can't be! There's a slight inconsistency. The owner's daughter and the ranch superintendent?!

Did you think what I thought?)

How museum workers love to gloss over the lives of those they talk about, how nicely they skip information, how easily they add (or subtract) details! Who can I gossip with about the past... It's a good thing there's Gemini, who answers any questions and, as I see it, doesn't distinguish itself with good manners or principled behavior, but gives out all the information, the main thing is to ask correctly, it'll even reveal secrets of ancient history!

The couple married on November 17, 1915. "They eloped," as Gemini told me, "they ran away!"

The marriage was secret because Rhoda's mother, May Rindge, was vehemently against it.

(Well, of course! We're not so naive as to assume that the marriage of the heiress of a massive fortune to a farm manager was welcomed by her mother (her father had died by then), not such a marriage she planned for her daughter!)

According to available information, May Rindge did not attend the wedding. The modest ceremony, held in the chapel of the Mission Inn hotel in Riverside (the hotel still stands), was attended only by the newlyweds, Rhoda and Merritt, and Rhoda's younger brother, Frederick Rindge Jr., and his wife, Galetta. And no lavish wedding, no gifts, no honeymoons... (At least, Gemini and I didn't dig anything up.)

The newlyweds settled in a house designed by Elmer Grey, a famous architect, in the Hancock Park area of Los Angeles.

(The area is still exclusive. I talked to Gemini about who lives there; I'll give you the rundown without names: a singer, a comedian actor, a blogger-singer-tattoo design master, another actor, another comedian, and some diplomats... And not a single teacher! Oh, how lucky I am with my profession! Are you, the reader, not a teacher yourself?)

Three children were born there to the couple: Rhoda-May Adamson (born in 1917),

Sylvia Rindge Adamson (born in 1921),

Merritt Huntley Adamson Jr. (born in 1926).

Well, these are their adult photographs, obviously.

Why do I mention their years of birth? - Well, the house in Malibu was built in 1929; they needed a summer home! Of course, the house on the ocean shore was built as a weekend and summer vacation home. This means the grandmother, Rhoda Rindge, had now accepted her son-in-law, especially since he was a successful businessman by then.

After the wedding, Rhoda and Merritt went into business together: in 1916, the Adamsons founded the Adohr dairy farm (also known as Adohr Farms or Adohr Dairy Farm). The name "Adohr" is Rhoda spelled backward. Actually it was a very smart move! The name Adohr was created to convey two loving messages: not only his wife's name spelled backward: ADOHR - RHODA , but the sentiment of love: ADOHR sounds exactly like the word "ADORE," reflecting the message "I adore my wife.". The enterprise became a model farm, famous for supplying Los Angeles with milk. There, they told an interesting detail in the museum: in Adohr Farm's advertisements, young mothers and fathers were asked to send a photo of their child. A "Baby of the Month" was chosen - and the farm supplied milk to the family for free for that month. A brilliant advertisement, in my opinion.

Initially, the Adamsons lived alternately in a beach cottage in Malibu and their Los Angeles home, but in 1937 they moved to the Malibu house permanently. Rhoda Adamson lived there until her death in 1962.

(Am I only just starting to talk about the house itself? Did I end up with such a colossal "introduction to an essay"? - My gracious apologies...)

The house is built in the Spanish Colonial Revival style with Moorish elements, by architect Stiles O. Clements of the firm Morgan, Walls & Clements.

The Adamson House reminded me of the Santa Barbara Courthouse, which was completed in 1929. It couldn't be that the architect or the Adamsons didn't visit the courthouse. The architectural similarity is visible even to the naked eye, even to a person without specialized education, like me. Both buildings are covered with red tiled roofs, have white stucco, are finished with decorative tile (for the courthouse, the tile was imported from Tunisia; for the Adamson House, tile manufactured by their own factory was used), and feature wrought iron details. Both buildings strive to create a romantic image of "Old California" and resemble Spanish or Mediterranean villas or castles.

Well, of course, the sizes are incomparable; the courthouse is huge, colossal! It wasn't just a building, after all. After the devastating 1925 earthquake, Santa Barbara city leaders decided to rebuild the entire city center in a unified Spanish-Andalusian style. The courthouse became the symbol and benchmark of this reconstruction. By 1929, the year the courthouse was completed and the year the Adamson House construction began, the style set by Santa Barbara had already become the dominant fashion, becoming prestigious for homes all over the Southern Coast. The Adamson House architect undoubtedly followed this general architectural spirit.

Yes, the style is fashionable even now, only not everyone can afford it.

The Adamson House is known as the "Taj Mahal of Tile" due to the extensive use of decorative ceramic tile, which was produced by the Malibu Potteries company.

Remember, to fix the financial situation, Rhoda's mother, May Rindge, organized drilling in Malibu, trying to find oil. They didn't find oil, but it turned out that her lands had rich deposits of clay.

A factory for the production of decorative tile was built near the pier, about half a mile from here.

This company, Malibu Potteries, lasted for a very short time, from 1926 to 1932. In 1932, the factory burned down.

But this house (and several other famous houses in Los Angeles) managed to be decorated with its production tile.

The house is like an advertisement for the tile production! (In a good sense, an advertisement.)

The tile is colorful, joyful, varied in pattern, but wonderfully complementary! Tile decorates the walls, door openings, floors, fountains, windows...

Have you noticed the unique window glass? It looks like it's made from bottle bottoms in a lead frame? This is the so-called Rondel Glass, made by hand.

The shape of the windows is different everywhere, which is a feature of the style.

In my opinion, this variety of windows gives the house a special charm and visually makes it more interesting: here's a round window, here's a narrow loophole window, here's one with a pointed arch, Moorish style, repeating the shape of outdoor fireplaces... And all are trimmed with tile!

Remember that the owners were, let's say carefully, wealthy. If you visit the museum, they will tell you about the thematic windows in the reading room.

No less than: THEMATIC WINDOWS.

The reading room has two famous windows on opposite walls that reflect the tastes of the owners, Rhoda and Merritt Adamson: one window is round, like a ship's porthole, reflecting Merritt's love for marine themes and ships. The other is tall and rectangular, reflecting Rhoda's preference for medieval castles.

Many stories are associated with the house; you can't tell them all, but here's one...

The guide told a tragic story related to tile manufacturing.

The chief ceramics specialist and manager at the factory was Rufus B. Keeler. He had his own formulations for creating bright, different-colored tiles. Bright coral tile, a new color at the time, Keeler's development, is preserved in the Adamson House kitchen.

So, after the closure of Malibu Potteries, while working in the Emsco Refractories laboratory, Keeler forgot to turn on the exhaust fan and was unaware of an open glass of cyanide standing on his desk, the odorless vapors of which saturated the room. He died ten days after the accident, at the age of 49, in 1934. So the tile here is a kind of monument to him and all the masters who created it.

Oh, taking photos inside was forbidden! There, in a long passageway room, a covered gallery, lies a tiled "Persian carpet" on the floor, consisting of 674 individual tiles. Huge! Eighteen meters long, about fifty square meters in area! It mimics a traditional Persian carpet with a central medallion, an intricate border, and even fringe! It looks very realistic, especially the fringe. It was designed by William Handley, one of the chief designers of Malibu Potteries.

Well, so that you can somehow imagine what this is, look at the photograph.

This is another such rug, designed for May Rindge's (the mother's) palace, not for her daughter Rhoda's house. This "large Persian tile rug," designed by Inez Johnson von Hake for the Sierra Retreat mansion, was completed just before the pottery fire in 1931. This rug was lost. Only the photo remains. A shame, isn't it?

(And they don't allow photography in the museum. I'm grumbling. Who would I bother? Who would I harm?

...

Oh! Not allowed to photograph? Really? Gemini and I found someone's publication in the wilds of the Internet! What is this, someone else can, but I can't?! Someone was allowed?! (Or not allowed.) Look, here is that legendary rug, but in SOMEONE ELSE'S photo: https://www.atticmag.com/2010/01/malibu-persian-tile-rugs/

...

And what views there are from the windows!

Only in my memory do they remain...)

But on the balcony, we were all given permission to take pictures, which was very generous of the administration.

Standing on such a balcony, looking out at the Pacific Ocean and not being able to share at least an "echo" of the view with family and friends - that would have been torture.

Because the view from the balcony is stunning! The Pacific Ocean...

Malibu Lagoon...

... and the historic Malibu Pier.

Yachts were once moored there.

First the "Malibu" - the mother and daughter's yacht, then the yacht "Pirate," on which Rhoda successfully participated in regattas for twenty years. Oh, I didn't tell you that Rhoda was also an avid yachtswoman!

The yachts, which had their own turbulent fate, are still afloat.

(Okay, okay, let's get back to the house and the tile; look for the history of the yachts yourself on the Internet (or ask Gemini!), or I'll never finish the tale.)

Like the entire house, the balcony is generously decorated with Malibu Tile. Tile is used to cover the floor, balustrades, and even for built-in benches.

What elegant cobalt patterns on the tile - inserts in the familiar terracotta floor!

Here's another similar tile that was on the patio, I liked it so much!

And the hand-forged lamps. (I couldn't find the names of the masters even with Gemini's help. A pity.)

And the view from the balcony...

However, for the views there, you don't need to climb the balcony; you can take pictures from almost any point. Here's an example. I'm standing under a palm tree.

On one side is the house, on the other side is the ocean.

And yet, the house became famous not for its views, I think, but for its fountains.

The fountains are open-air monuments to ceramicist Rufus Keeler and all the artists and craftsmen.

The most famous and most photographed fountain on the grounds is the "Peacock," made of glazed ceramic tile.

I was struck by the color combination and the "echo" with the color of the sky and the ocean.

It was believed that "for good luck," one tile should be laid bottoms up (although the tile has a "bottom" it's hiding?! It's funny how our ancestors decorated their speech with imagery.)

We didn't find it ourselves; the guide showed us.

(Here is that tile - look for it if you want or have time; I'll only suggest that the feather pattern on the peacock's tail doesn't match; it goes in the opposite direction on one tile. I'm being mean today!)

The fountain stands in the courtyard.

We went out onto that balcony!

The courtyard is beautiful.

Just look at the details of the finishing.

From this courtyard with the fountain, there's an exit right to the ocean...

And on the little doorstep-step, a decorative strip of colored tile fragments - this is so that evil spirits won't enter; evil spirits fear broken lines, there is such a belief, and there are such steps in many places in the house.

Everyone photographs another fountain, known as the "Star Fountain."

Its form is based on a geometric pattern called Rub al-Hizb in Islamic and Moorish architecture - an eight-pointed star formed by two superimposed squares.

The tile used for the facing is impressive: complex geometric patterns, rich colors. The tile here is under the constant California sun! - and the colors are still vibrant. I won't even mention the choice of location for it. If the Pacific Ocean is behind it... Almost any fountain would look good against such a backdrop!

And in the backyard, there is another one: "The Green Man"! (The Green Man Fountain)

Reference: "The Green Man" is an ancient mythological motif, representing a sculptural image of a face surrounded or created from leaves, vines, or other vegetation.

Water often pours from the mouth or eyes. This image has roots in European pagan traditions and symbolizes rebirth, the cycle of nature, spring, and growth. It can often be found in medieval churches and cathedrals, and later - in gardens and fountains. Sometimes it is also called the "Eternal Man" or Neptune Fountain, although "Green Man" is the most common term.

In general, that inner courtyard with the back door...

with the tub where they washed pets and dogs before letting them into the house...

with walls tiled as in Andalusia...

with a blooming tree...

This inner courtyard behind the garage is surprisingly poetic.

It's time to leave; it's time to finish the tale...

I would like to end on some bright note, but it doesn't quite work out. Some kind of bad luck for the family. For every generation. It's not that I deeply sympathize with them; I have my own problems in life, but still.

May Rindge lost to the state: the road was built through her land based on the law - the right of eminent domain. Judge Frederick Valentine ordered compensation to be paid for a strip of land 24 meters (80 feet) wide and more than thirty kilometers (19 miles) long, which was allocated for a state highway. The amount the county ordered to be paid to May Rindge as compensation was $98,623. That's all. It is known that May Rindge refused to accept this amount, and sources indicate that she even tore up the check in protest against the forced expropriation of her land.

Do you think that was the end of it? Not at all!

Rhoda Adamson, the daughter of May Rindge, as you remember, died in 1962. The state of California decided that it, the state, needed this land! All this land. The state's original intention was to demolish the Adamson House and the adjacent buildings, including the garage-future museum, to make room for a large public parking lot for visitors to Surfrider Beach and Malibu Lagoon State Beach.

A parking lot could have been here.

A PARKING LOT!! Don't we have enough space along the freeway?!!

(Oh, we don't, we don't, to be honest, but that's no reason to tear down such a house!)

And again, the law of eminent domain, and again a court case, and again the state won! (Were you still doubting?) In 1968, for $2.69 million, the land finally became the property of the state. And a ten-year struggle began to preserve the house, which was saved only thanks to the long-term work of local heritage defenders and historical societies (such as the Malibu Historical Society), who opposed the demolition, and, of course, the heirs of the Rindge-Adamson family. Here, to even physically prevent the demolition, to save the house, the Chancellor of Pepperdine University temporarily lived there.

Okay, a little positivity! The house was finally recognized as a California Historical Landmark in 1985 and listed on the National Register of Historic Places. So now it is a historical monument and nothing threatens it. Although...

In short, if you live in California or come here as a tourist, hurry to visit, because who knows...

P.S.

Many photos remain, several more stories could be written, but I'm tired, so I'll add just a little bit.

There is also a small house with a pool there. Stylish!

You can't take pictures inside either.

And there is a small house that was built, if I understood correctly, for the Adamson's son when he grew up.

It's now a souvenir shop.

And a garden was laid out around it with exotic trees and plants from different continents.

I wondered how the museum earns money? After all, the entrance ticket to the museum is only seven dollars.

Well, they rent out this large lawn and the museum grounds for weddings, evenings, etc.

It costs from five to eight and a half thousand for the day, and that's just the location. Tables, chairs, food, waiters, security, cleaning, etc., must be ordered additionally. The cost of a wedding here is fifty thousand dollars and up.

And this little house at the entrance, the Gatehouse, where the manager's (or guard's, or gardener's) family lived, is still a home where someone working here lives.

These are photos of Malibu Potteries and those who worked at the factory. Thank you to all of them!