At one point, California was rich with Austria-born architects who had fully embraced the Golden State. Or at least there were two of them, two very famous ones. Richard Neutra and Rudolph Schindler were the influential figures who wedged gorgeous modernist houses in sun-soaked Los Angeles hillsides and beyond. (The latter brought the former to the city before the duo had a falling out.) Both Neutra and Schindler were beloved for their nature-hugging homes, complete with stylish surfaces and open-floor interiors. By 1975, both acclaimed men had been dead for years, and a bold architect named Mark Mack had just settled in San Francisco after an initial stint in New York.
You can trace the lineage from Mack's work to that of Neutra and Schindler. Like his Austrian-Californian predecessors, it's full of concrete and metal, with no shortage of bold geometries. The colors, though, are what separates Mack from post-war modernism. His vision feels like it has an equal amount in common with David Hockney's paintings of California. Both Mack and Hockney play with color and depth perception in such a way that your eyes rely on intersecting lines and colliding colors to pull the complete work into focus. Much like a Hockney painting, Mack's homes are shockingly vibrant and tremendously alive. There are cobalt blues and tangerine oranges, floor-to-ceiling glass and overhanging roofs. In simplest terms, Mack took the blueprint laid by the two Austrians and colored it with the brightest crayons in the box. He'd bring this highly saturated vision up and down California, out east to Nevada and beyond.
The Traub Residence, built in 1995; Courtesy of Mark Mack.
In the mid-1990s, Mack designed a house in Sun Valley, a resort town in Idaho known for picturesque slopes during winter and wildflower-filled meadows in the warmer months. The residence is a vertical house that follows the land's natural slope, with a hipped roof and board-and-batten siding. There are multi-color stained wood, concrete floors, and booming windows—all the trappings of Mack's modernism but reimagined within the context of a mountain home.
Another standout property is the Baum Residence from the late 1980s, a home that mixes concrete, color, and reclaimed wood atop a hill in Berkeley with panoramic views of the San Francisco bay. Inside, the kitchen is a central feature, given eccentrically shaped cabinets and a geometric island. There is also the Thomas Residence in Las Vegas, a hulking concrete structure with a courtyard that rivals an art museum. The various exterior details—circular skylights, staggered roof lines—make for a dramatic showcase of shadows in the harsh desert sun.
A wonderfully sunny nook; Courtesy of Mark Mack.
Mack's name is not mentioned in the same breath as Neutra and Schindler. I'd argue that his name doesn't get mentioned as often as it should. Perhaps it's because Mack is still alive, and architects seem to only gain heavier reverence in death. Maybe it's because he doesn't have a Taschen coffee table book. But browsing his orange-colored website is as pleasing and stunning as flipping through any architecture book. I enjoy Mack's work so much that I wanted something physical, though. While writing this, I found myself compelled to buy a used copy of Mark Mack: A California Architect and all I could find was a German edition. Good thing we only buy architecture books for the pictures, right?
