An Artist’s Historic House In Pacific Palisades Was Lost In the Fire. He Hopes to Rebuild
The 708 House was unique to the landscape by nature and design. Situated in the El Medio Bluffs, between the Santa Monica Mountains and the Pacific Ocean, and directly across the Palisades High School Football field goal line, the Eric Owen Moss architectural marvel defied convention and was like no other home in Pacific Palisades. Its playful and whimsical structure demanded attention by its sheer design, a sculptural form set against a backdrop of tradition.
Our family, my wife, Dawn, daughter, Georgi and son Felix acquired the house in 2010 from the Moss Family and infused it with vibrant, candy-colored palettes to play off the architectural structure, turning it into a joy-filled, and inviting creative space full of energy, warmth and love.
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It was hard not to miss. At daytime the home was a magnet for the curious and the intrigued and at nighttime the house turned magical. Two, colorfully painted, New York City flower taxis standing sentinel at the entrance were enough to catch eyes, while large, free standing, cylindrical and cube shaped design elements – fully enveloped in floral, geometric and fish motifs – added to the wonder. (About those flower NYC taxis? Those were part of a large public works arts project for the non-profit Portraits of Hope, which I co-founded with my brother, Bernie.)
Once dusk hit, the large cylinders and cubes strikingly illuminated using solar energy panels. Day or night, the colorfully painted and printed visual elements stood out and added a sense of vibrancy to a rather neutrally colored neighborhood.
How great it was to see the very young pause, stare, smile, gravitate to, point in delight and exclaim: “look at the house! A taxi, a flower taxi!” And the oversized cylindrical fish lanterns — became a magnet for young and old as well. Then at the center of our house, was our magnificent, sixty-foot tall podocarpus tree with its outstretched branches extending the width of our home. Our family basically lived in an oversized tree house.
Not too long ago, I had a team of professional rappelers descend from the height of the tree and attach a collection of colorful solar-powered, cylindrical lanterns on its branches. You could see them from blocks away. A gentle breeze would sway the large lanterns gently from side to side, and an assortment of varied sized and shaped wind chimes would produce musical notes created by the wind. It was serene and beautiful all in one.
When daylight faded and night would fall, the magic of the solar lanterns would come to life. Within minutes of sunset, each night, the tree would illuminate magnificently and could be seen by residents, visitors and tourists from great distances across the Palisades.
Though it is not considered common practice in our neighborhood, I would often invite in passersby or people working in the area who stopped to see or photograph the exterior aesthetics to come take a peek inside to see the art and design collection in the inner space. I sense that people invited in felt a good connection and felt the warmth of our home.
But first and foremost, 708 was home to my family.
Dawn and I spent the first year between our own work-related projects creating the space to be our own. We wanted to make certain the home’s architecture was not modified. We added design and art elements throughout the interior and portions of the exterior, including landscape, and due to the drought and having water restrictions we opted to make a beach sand volleyball court rather than a backyard garden. And throughout the house, we incorporated large-scale recycled water features and fountains. Despite its relatively modest size – 1,900 square feet – 708 felt expansive, filled with light, color, and laughter.
Dawn and I wanted to make home an enjoyable, safe environment for our kids. And fun is what I feel the house embodied the most.
And yes, there were hundreds upon hundreds of original sculptures, paintings, photographs, prints, furniture, desks, lamps, tables, fashion accessories, textiles, and so much more. Nearly every piece was one-of-a-kind, hand or custom created to fit our design interest. We often rotated our collection, artifacts, collectibles and household items to keep a fresh look for our space. Home was also where much of our family’s creative concepts and ideas emanated. 708 was Dawn’s writing studio, Felix’s film, photography and fashion creative space, Georgi’s photo and product illustration design studio space, and home was my creative hub too.
A vast assortment of my ideas, projects, patents, and creations including many Portraits of Hope project concepts and social service endeavors were sparked from that home base.
I promised myself when we moved into our home that I would do everything in my power to safeguard all the family’s visual treasures that we held so dearly. As custodian and guardian of our family’s art works, I took it upon myself to make certain each and every piece that any one of us created would be cherished and protected to the best of my abilities. Goodness, I tried. Hanging and securing to the maximum of my capabilities, engineering things and designing and redesigning things to last, keeping items out of harm’s way, limiting UV exposure, moisture, heat, using the best materials I could find for longevity reasons. My art and design works are my kids’ and they could, if they wished, give it to their children and continue that tradition. And with all my cautionary actions for decades, it’s hard to grasp all the intimate body of works that had been set aside for my family have now vanished from us. I won’t lie this one hurts.
But even with all we’ve gone through, that home still puts a smile on my face.
Surrounded by family, color, sunlight, the mountains with ocean breeze, and our furry friend, Milo, at my side, I could not have asked for more. Birds chirping, wind chimes ringing, fountains splashing—the symphony of life in the El Medio Bluffs was unmistakable. The laughter of students, the steady beat of a metronome from Palisades High School, the powerful echoes of the marching band’s drums and horns—it all reverberated through our street. This was our world, and this was home.
It was the home that students would come to after school to just talk and hang out. It was the home first responders would stop by on a break and play ping pong on our front yard table, and the public was all welcome to play too and play they did! Though our volleyball court was smaller than regulation size, it was the home volleyball players of all levels, from high school to collegiate, to Olympian, would come to have great fun, play hard, laugh out loud, listen to music and have a slice of pizza or fruit or just lemonade. It was a home that acted as a great refuge and perfect escape from the everyday realities of life.
Whatever love we put into the house, the house gifted us back tenfold. Our home unfortunately no longer stands strong but has been laid to rest in dust and debris. Our giant tree still stands upright but charred and blackened. What strikes me is that in the center of our lot with its ever so large branches extended out, it appears that the trees grip has held onto a few remaining blistered lanterns that survived the unimaginable smoldering heat and burning flames. Somehow the spirit of our house still shines bright; in striking defiance of destruction. The few scorched lanterns that did not melt away and survived still miraculously seem to absorb enough of the sun’s energy that they continue to light up at night and illuminate the sky above day after day.
And for me, now looking forward towards the light, I am motivated more than perhaps ever in my life to create an even more robust body of work and will continue with resolve. While the fire took our home, it could not burn away ideas, dreams, determination, or hope.
Some of the most wonderful and cherished years I could ever dream of emanated at our 708 home. I would not give that up for the world; it was that great. And soon and with time, I will be eager and excited to see what Georgi, Felix and Dawn create for our new, quirky, even more colorful, cheerful, inviting, loving and fun 708 home.
Ed Massey is an American painter and sculptor who creates and/or conceives the ideas and concepts for major, large-scale, public artworks. Among Massey’s works are a series of public projects he conceptualized and designed that are connected to Portraits of Hope, a non-profit civic and public art program.
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