Four in the
Desert
Four buildings inside ten miles, by three architects, all making the same argument about glass and shade and horizontal lines. The temptation is four careful portraits. The better idea is one set.
The Threads
what the day is really aboutDesert modernism is usually photographed one masterpiece at a time, in the golden hour, with a pool in the foreground. This weekend does the opposite: the same distance, the same undramatic light, four times, so what they share is visible instead of what makes each one special.
And under it, one rhythm: public → private → borrowed. Two buildings anyone can walk into, one you photograph from the street, and one estate that opens its gardens and keeps its house.
Two days, four buildings, one treatment. Charge in the dead light. Shoot the set, not the hero.
Teaches · Series — after Lewis Baltz · Ed Ruscha
The Map
where it all is · tap a point for its legOpen the whole day in Google Maps ↗ — in order: N Palm Canyon · City Hall · W Vista Chino · Rancho Mirage. It routes from wherever the phone is, and every spot below links its own leg the same way.
Tap any point for the day it belongs to. Every stop is within ten miles of every other — the whole weekend fits in one small valley, and the only real driving is the run out and the run home. About 123 miles out on the 10 and 104 back from Cabazon, ~290 in all — which is why it takes two charge stops.
One fact fixes which day is which. Sunnylands is Wednesday to Sunday, mid-September to early June, and its house is behind a wall: the ticketed tour is the only way to see the Jones building, and tickets drop at 9am Pacific on the fifteenth of the previous month.
The Days
two days · four buildings · two charge stops · one treatmentA weekend's unit is the day — each carries a locator map, its theme, and an energy read. A gold pill on the clock means that time belongs to someone else: a door that opens or a slot that was booked. Everything unpilled is a suggested shape, not a schedule.
Charge first, then shoot. Neither building cares what time you arrive except the disc, and it wants noon.
East out of the basin, through the pass at Banning, and down into the valley. The wind farm on the descent is the sign you are nearly there.
Plug in before anything else. It is nine-thirty, the light is already flat and useless for these buildings, and forty-five minutes on a 250 kW stall is the difference between a weekend and a recovery. This is the cheapest possible place to spend the time: dead light, in town, next to coffee.
Frey and Robson Chambers, 1965. A roof that lifts to a point and cantilevers both ways over an open forecourt, so the whole building is a single diagonal against sky. It has been the Palm Springs Visitor Center since 2003, which means you can walk under it. Shoot it square-on from across the forecourt on the 38V, and fix the distance you will use for all four. One lens for the whole set: changing lenses between buildings is how a set turns back into four portraits.
Frey with Clark, Chambers and E. Stewart Williams, designed 1952 and finished 1957. The best single idea in the town: a circle cut clean through the entry canopy with three palms growing up through it. Near noon the sun drops a bright disc on the paving; by two it has moved off and you are shooting the cut itself rather than the light through it, which is the quieter and arguably better frame. Same distance as the gas station.
The one pause. Everything on this trip is within a few minutes of everything else.
Both are about accepting the frame you are actually given.
Neutra, 1946–47, for the man who commissioned Fallingwater. Shulman photographed it in 1947 and Slim Aarons made Poolside Gossip there in 1970, and between them the two pictures sold the world an idea of California. Both are of a west elevation that faces into private land: the owners bought the surrounding lots to restore the isolation and Marmol Radziner screened it deliberately. From the road you get the horizontal stack through planting — the only frame you can plan for, and the set’s frame stays on the 38V. If you want one picture outside the set, this is where the 90V comes out: the single roof line against the mountain wall, from the same spot on the road. Modernism Week has occasionally run a garden tour, exterior only; the interior has never opened.
Down the valley through Cathedral City. Flat, fast and entirely unremarkable, which after a day of deliberate looking is restful.
A. Quincy Jones, 1966, for the Annenbergs: a low pink roof over glass in fifteen acres of desert garden. 🔴 The house itself is walled off and the ticketed tour is the only way to see it — the free part is the Center, which is a 2011 Frederick Fisher building on a separate parcel, and a garden. Both are worth an hour, but neither is the house itself. Tickets go on sale at 9am Pacific on the fifteenth of the previous month, online only, no waitlist, and they go. Same treatment, fourth time: flat, frontal, same distance. By now the set should read as a set.
Forty-five minutes at Cabazon before the pass rather than after it. The 10 west climbs to Banning and then gives it all back, but the climb comes first, and arriving at the summit low is how a comfortable drive becomes a slow one behind trucks in the right lane.
Back through the pass with the light behind. A quarter past three is the line on a Sunday; by five it is three hours.
The Spots
where to stand · what the light does · who built itFour anchors inside ten miles. Two are public and free, one is private and shot from the street, one is an estate that opens its gardens. Tap a spot’s map for driving directions.
- Stand
- Square-on from across the forecourt. Fix this distance and reuse it for all four.
- Light
- Hard flat desert light, which is the correct condition for a set.
- Frame
- 38V, the set’s lens. The roof as one diagonal against sky, building centered, nothing clever.
- See
- A gas station that became the town's front door, by the architect who never left.
- Stand
- Under the canopy for the disc, then back for the whole entry face.
- Light
- Near noon — the sun comes straight through the cut and lays a disc on the paving.
- Frame
- 38V. The circle cut through the canopy, palms up through it, sun on the ground below.
- See
- The single best idea in town: a hole in a roof, with trees growing through it.
- Stand
- On W Vista Chino, from the public road. It is somebody's house.
- Light
- Early morning, and the elevation you see from the road is the NORTH one — in shade the whole season, so take the soft even light rather than waiting for raking sun that never comes. The famous pictures are of a view you cannot get to.
- Frame
- 38V for the set: the horizontal stack through the planting. Not the pool — that frame is not available. The 90V only for the roof line against the mountain.
- See
- Shulman photographed it in 1947 and Slim Aarons in 1970, and between them they sold California.
- Stand
- In the gardens, looking back at the pavilions. The house needs a ticket; this does not.
- Light
- Midday. By now the light should match the other four, which is the point.
- Frame
- 38V, same distance, fourth time. The set should be visibly a set by now.
- See
- The Annenberg estate — a low pink roof over glass, in fifteen acres of desert garden.
Before You Go
the pack, the one thing to book, and the two charge stopsCamera
- Hasselblad X2D II + 38V for the set; the 90V in the bag for one frame at the Kaufmann House
- A CFexpress card as well as the internal SSD — a set means volume
- Spare batteries, charged at the hotel — the X2D runs down faster than you expect
- No tripod needed — flat midday light, and the set is about distance, not stillness
Body
- A hat and far more water than seems necessary
- mid-September to early June — the one bookable stop shuts for the summer
- Shoes for pavement; nothing here is a hike
- A layer for the first hour — the valley is cold before nine
Logistics
- Book somewhere to sleep — this is the only overnight
- Sunnylands: Wed–Sun, mid-Sept to early June
- Leave by three on Sunday or the pass backs up
- Sentry off overnight — it eats the margin for Cabazon
What You Got
the frames that survived the editThe geotag gets each frame close to where it stood — close, not exact; the last hundred yards are always a hunt. What a machine can't do is the part below: which ones survived, and whether the day was worth the drive.
The frame of the weekend.
—
Did the four read as a set, or as four portraits?
—
Which one was hardest to shoot flat — and did I give in?
—
What the light did across two days, versus the plan.
—
After
what the day taughtDid the series hold, or did I go hunting a hero?
—
Which building surprised me?
—
Was one overnight enough?
—
Where next — and would I work a set again?
—