Added to the National Register of Historic Places on October 1, 2021

Amble down the shaded porticos of the Malaga Cove Plaza, in posh Palos Verdes Estates, and you’ll swear you’ve wormhole tunneled back to renaissance Italy. Granted, it’s renaissance Italy as filtered through the architecture of 1920s Los Angeles. But there is still an uncommon air of refinement and balance to the uniform archways splayed across the Plaza, the beautifully weathered brick walls and those ribbons of barrel tiles on the roof. If you have made it to Malaga Cove, chances are you are already having a good day (the ocean is just half a mile away after all, and I’ve heard your net worth automatically increases 10% just by being on this peninsula). The hidden courtyards and planters full of succulents are there just to make your day a little more pleasant. 

Architecturally, the many segments of Malaga Cove Plaza work together in a broad Mediterranean revival style, with hints of Italian, Spanish and Moorish design in there. All the more impressive, then, that these buildings were constructed over a 40-year span, during which time many of its original designers and developers died, and architectural trends came and went. To understand how the Plaza ended up so cohesive, we need to go back to the origins of Palos Verdes itself. 

For thousands of years the Palos Verdes peninsula was tended by the Gabrielino-Tongva people. By the 1920s though the indigenous population was long gone, and the peninsula’s 16,000 acres was owned by a syndicate of investors led by a New York banker named Frank Vanderlip. In 1913, he bought the peninsula, sight unseen, from the influential landowner Jotham Bixby (see Etan Does LA #125 for more on Bixby).

Early on, Vanderlip had the idea of turning his new purchase into a sort of California version of Italy’s Amalfi Coast, exclusively for wealthy white folks. To achieve his vision, he brought on city planner Charles Cheney, architect Myron Hunt (Rose Bowl, Huntington Mansion, Pasadena Central Library) and the famous landscape designers the Olmsted Brothers (they had landscaped some of Vanderlip’s New York properties) to develop master plans for the peninsula. 

The Olmsteds studied the area’s topography and soil conditions to determine where roads should go, and which areas to keep as open land. Cheney and Hunt worked on the look and feel of the residential and commercial villages, settling on an eclectic blend of Italian, Spanish, Moorish and Mexican design. Indeed, if you drive around Palos Verdes Estates, you’ll notice a lot of the buildings have that stereotypically Mediterranean look to them – light-colored walls made of adobe or stucco, low-pitched roofs, covered in clay tile, arched openings.

Starting in 1922, Hunt also led a Palos Verdes Art Jury, a six-man team (including Cheney) that evaluated new construction plans and would yay or nay every new building before it went up. They were complemented by a Homes Association, made up of local property owners who were charged with enforcing restrictions and voting to amend them if the Art Jury went off the rails. It’s important to acknowledge up front that there were also racial restrictions written into the Art Jury’s rulebook. All non-white people were restricted from owning or using properties in Palos Verdes, a rule that stuck until such housing restrictions were declared unconstitutional in 1948. 

The ~3200-acre Palos Verdes Estates was the first of the peninsula’s four major subdivisions to be developed, and Malaga Cove Plaza represents its first cluster of commercial buildings. Originally, the plan was to build three different plazas as anchors for the Malaga Cove, Valmonte and Lunada Bay neighborhoods of Palos Verdes Estates, with each plaza designed by a different architectural firm. The facade of each building on a plaza might vary slightly depending on the needs of whatever business bought the lot, as long as it conformed to the general scheme laid out by the firm. 

The firm of Webber, Staunton & Spaulding was chosen to design the Malaga Cove Plaza. Webber & Spaulding would later build Harold Lloyd’s famous “Greenacres” estate in Beverly Hills, and define the look of Catalina with their designs for the Catalina Casino and the Christian Science Society building (see visit #148). But the Plaza was designed early on in their partnership – just a couple years before construction began, Sumner Spaulding had been a draftsman in Myron Hunt’s office 

Construction began in late 1924 on the first building at the Malaga Cove Plaza, called the Gardner Building after its landowner patron, W.W. Gardner. It opened in a formal ceremony on September 13, 1925, featuring music and speeches from the mayors of Los Angeles, Long Beach and Redondo Beach. Early on the building housed a post office, a temporary schoolhouse, an early version of the library (see visit #158) and a pharmacy/soda fountain called Bruce Drug Store. On the second floor were the offices of the Art Jury and Homes Association.

Next came the Alpha Syndicate Building (aka Casa del Portal) in 1929, also a Webber, Staunton & Spaulding joint. The local police department was an early tenant there, and a photo from the early ‘30s shows the offices of a realtor and a construction firm. This one was named Palos Verdes’s best commercial building of the year by the Art Jury. 

In 1930 the Malaga Cove Plaza got a real showpiece with its Neptune Fountain, a ⅔ size replica of a 16th century fountain in Bologna, Italy, carved by Giambologna and Tommaso Laureti. The original version was sculpted out of bronze, with a stone and marble base. The replica was sculpted in the 17th century entirely of white Carrara marble, imported from Italy by collector Arnoldo Adolfo di Segni in the late 1920s, and then purchased by Jay Lawyer of the Palos Verdes Project, who donated it to the community. Even in this smaller size, the fountain is an over-the-top delight, with its lactating nereids, water-snorting sea monsters, spitting dolphins and a butt nekkid Neptune, lording over it all with a mighty trident in hand. At the dedication ceremony the Italian government sent Vice Consul Cav. Alberto Mellini to extol the “bond of friendship and good will that has been established between two widely separated communities,” as reported in the Los Angeles Times.

And then…nothing. The Great Depression and WWII brought development to a halt at Malaga Cove Plaza. For nearly 20 years, the Plaza was just those two buildings, the fountain and two small green patches landscaped by the Olmsted Brothers. Two bookends and a lot of empty space. 

Finally in 1949, Dr. Berthold Starr broke ground on the Starr Building, a two-story complex right next to the arch of the Syndicate Building. Designed by architect George Smith Morlan, the Starr has the same clay tile roof, faded brick facade and arched arcade as its neighbor. Next came the Davis Building, completed 1952 by owner/architect Walter S. Davis, which housed a market and two engineering companies early on. Five more buildings followed in 1954 (The Courtyard Building – designed by Davis & Quigley), 1957 (Security First National Bank – Carrington H. Lewis), 1959 (Woodcock Building – Conrad “Pete” Clark), 1960 (Towle Building – ​​Leroy Young) and 1963 (the Medical Plaza/Barnett Building – Jack V. Ouzounian). 

The final elements of Malaga Cove Plaza were finished in 1964, with a new three-story wing stretching east along Vía Tejon from the Syndicate Building, topped by a five-story tower at the far east side (all designed by Clark, Hendrickson & Knox). This was originally a Bank of America branch, and in 1965, we get Taco Bell Enterprises leasing office space here!

In the decades since the final concrete was poured at Malaga Cove Plaza, the buildings themselves have remained remarkably intact. The mighty Neptune had to be removed in 1968 after some rusted steel in his legs (plus some good old-fashioned vandalism) left him a little less mighty; a new one was rededicated in 1969. The brick median surrounding the fountain dates back to a beautification project from the late 1990s, which also repaired some busted water pipes and a couple of the cherubs on the fountain.  

I visited the Plaza during the Doors Open Peninsula event, celebrating the centennial of Palos Verdes’s “open for business” rally back in 1923. The organizers had received the Plaza’s National Register of Historic Places plaque the week prior, and as luck would have it, they were displaying it at a table next to the Neptune Fountain. 

Despite the expected business turnover over the years, Malaga Cove Plaza is still a focal point of Palos Verdes Estates. It’s a high-end spot for high-end people – the realtors and travel agencies housed there are a little beyond my budget. But there’s plenty within reach at the Malaga Cove Ranch Market, including a terrific beer selection and a damn good pesto melt sub. Makes for a fine lunch after a morning of architectural time travel. 

Sources & Recommended Reading

+ “Art Fountain Dedicated” (Los Angeles Times, February 17, 1930 – via ProQuest)

+ Blake, Lindsay: “Malaga Cove Plaza from ‘Dirty John: The Betty Broderick Story’” (iamnotastalker.com, July 8, 2020)

+ Hixon, Michael: “Malaga Cove Plaza, in Palos Verdes Estates, named to the National Register of Historic Places” (Daily Breeze, October 12, 2021)

+ “Jury Makes Honor Award” (Los Angeles Times, March 30, 1930 – via ProQuest)

+ Megowan, Bruce and Maureen: “Malaga Plaza – 38 year in the making” (Palos Verdes Magazine, April 15, 2020)

+ Megowan, Maureen: “Native American Indians and the Palos Verdes Peninsula” (maureenmegowan.com)

+ @VoicesOnCall on YouTube: “Walking Malaga Cove, Palos Verdes Estates, California” (Jul 21, 2021)

+ White, Olivia & Alvin Nuval, Chattel, Inc.: Malaga Cove Plaza’s NRHP nomination form (PDF)