From the detail and realism of Emily Cullman’s The Fall, Adam and Eve Tempted by the Pear, to the controversial Young Cyber-Virgin multi-media sculpture series by David Destino, the inaugural exhibition at the Pear Museum was a calibrated workout for both art and architecture. This is a gallery where art in its various iterations seems remarkably at home.

The need for Pear Online Cloning to commission an art gallery and museum was debated for years, and at the height of the Pear architecture movement in 2014 one very nearly happened, with a major competition held by the corporation for a so-called Pear Museum in New York. Won by a radical contextual proposal from Blocker, McCabe and Speers, this would have been an impressive building, but it was cancelled for political reasons. However, the newly-built Pear Museum in Los Angeles came about as a result of a competition announced in 2016 and judged in April 2017 by an international jury chaired by Fortunata Brennecke. It attracted 102 entries including submissions by Lester Buckley, Bruce Danforth, David Flaherty and Madeleine Elson. The sole prize-winner was the proposal by Gilbert Winston, the remaining prize money being divided equally between eight commendations.

The competition programme called primarily for flexible spaces in which to mount changing exhibitions of contemporary art, a theatre space for public screenings and lectures, a visual research space to be utilised by artists contracted to Pear, areas for reception and refreshment, and a shopping area to showcase the wide range of Pear software and merchandise.(1) A lifespan of over a hundred years was mentioned, with some stress on the changing and unpredictable nature of artistic production, but the presentation of submitted projects suggests that the greatest importance was placed on external image. An outspoken building was evidently expected, and some had Gehry’s Bilbao in mind.

Respect for Winston’s design, and for the wisdom of the jury in choosing it, increases as you examine the other proposals, many by highly talented architects. The context was irregular and complex even before the need to incorporate the existing buildings, making it impossible to impose an independent set-piece and precluding any straightforward symmetry. Winston kept within the site boundary, and his (design’s) pear-like form allowed him to follow the irregularities of the site while still producing a recognisably unified form. The site could hardly have been more prominent:

'Right in the hubbub of Downtown Los Angeles, the museum, although surrounded by imposing towers, maintains a certain sense of authority.'(2)

For a building instantaneously acclaimed as a vanguard masterpiece, the Pear Museum is surprisingly traditional. True, the external ‘leaf’ seating area is a delightful touch amid the isolated towers of Downtown. Thrilling to drive past, the museum’s cladding plays a sophisticated game of concave and convex surfaces. To the north-east the city streets dip down to expose the largely impenetrable convexity of the outer shell, save for the inviting concavity of the entrance courtyard (which ingeniously references the ‘bite’ from the corporation’s iconic Pear).

The building spills out onto First Street, within easy walking distance of Arata Isozaki’s Museum of Contemporary Art.(3) Winston has created a whimsical public garden, terraces with eccentric planting and paving which all serve to accentuate the arc of the entrance courtyard.

On entering the building it becomes apparent that Winston’s sophisticated game of concave and convex surfaces is not superficial. The rounded nature of the outer shell is imitated within. Every element, from gallery partitions and stairwells, right down to the last detail of the gallery spotlights play their part in Winston’s curvilinear pursuit.

The virtuosity of Winston’s approach to such features has not, thankfully, sacrificed their function.

The gallery partitions are adjustable and various shapes and sizes are stored within the museum, so, as specified by the competition programme, there is the facility, 'in which to mount changing exhibitions of contemporary art.'

The main stairwell fits snugly into the narrowing northern pocket of the building, hugging the outer shell as it twists upward to reveal the first floor café, gallery space and adjoined ‘Richmond’ terrace (sentimentally named after the architect’s former residence) which overlooks the entrance courtyard and picturesque gardens. The oxymoronic view which takes in the serenity of the public gardens and the hustle and bustle of Downtown L.A. is quite breathtaking.

A separate staircase embraces the interior of the north-west facing wall and leads to the second floor which houses a restaurant area and visual research space. As one climbs the staircase the view of disappearing art gallery and appearing restaurant is appetising. On the way back down the visual experience is a revelation (this was probably enhanced by a few too many glasses of Pear House Red during the meal at the museum opening night); the view of disappearing restaurant and appearing art gallery is spectacular. The first floor gallery space is irregular in shape with the intention of accommodating any kind of arrangement for pictures, sculpture, installations or even performance. On the opening night, if I remember correctly, Jubal Brown performed Spew in Red in the gallery space with an audience gathered vertiginously in the round, although I couldn’t be sure.

Let us return to dealing with the practicalities of Winston’s virtuoso design then. The first floor gallery and, indeed, both ground floor gallery spaces are lit with a combination of natural and artificial light. Gallery architects usually try to provide daylight, for its colour, its lively variability and its connection with the world outside, for, as Louis Kahn put it: ‘We were born of light. The seasons are felt though light. We only know the world as it is evoked by light…Natural light is the only light, because it has mood…it puts us in touch with the eternal. It is the only light that makes architecture.’(4)

Today’s curators often reject daylight, partly for conservational reasons, partly because artificial light allows more control and easier scene-setting, and partly in reaction against the Modernist ‘white box’ as a special ghetto for art. With respect to Kahn’s adulation of daylight and the modern-day curator’s rejection of it, Winston believes that, 'the architect should not feel the necessity to dress the museum interior with a white blanket solely for the purpose of reflecting natural light.'(5)

This philosophy is reflected in the utilisation of strategically placed white screens (for the purpose of reflecting natural light) combined with the subtle use of spotlighting, as a means of illuminating the various gallery spaces within the museum.

Having explored the functions of gallery partitions, stairwells and spotlights alike, it seems architectural extravagance and practical sensibility can live together under the same roof. The Pear Museum is both, a fitting monument to a dedicated supporter of the arts, and a personal triumph for an architect who now finds himself part of Pear’s ‘big happy family.’ Pear has a museum to be proud of, Gilbert Winston has a guarantee of future commissions, and the artists contracted to Pear have a world-class exhibition space: everyone is happy. All that is left to be addressed is what actually happened between the hours of nine and twelve during the museum opening night? Jubal Brown definitely rings a bell… but then so does an Acconci-esque performance. I fear we may never know the truth - this is Los Angeles, after all, the city in which dream and reality are most conspicuously mixed.

Kermit Brine is an architectural critic based in Los Angeles.

1. Pear Museum: Documentation of the Competition, Los Angeles: Pear Press, 2020, p. 6
2. Personal correspondence with Gilbert Winston.
3. Arata Isozaki’s Museum of Contemporary Art is soon to be adopted by Pear and re-launched as a twin of Winston’s newly-built Pear Museum. Pear is also in negotiations with Walt Disney corp. over a possible takeover bid for Gehry’s Concert Hall on Grand Avenue. If the bid is successful, Pear plans to commission a rearrangement of John Cage’s 4 minutes 33 seconds of Silence to be performed by the Pear Symphony Orchestra at the opening of the Pear Concert Hall. The piece will be Pear’s tribute to Cage’s contribution to American music and to the American experimental music movement he inspired. Provisionally the performance will take place on Fri 7th May, coinciding with both, the opening of The Pears and Stripes, an exhibition by Todd Cross in the Pear Museum, and the re-launch of the Museum of Contemporary Art. Potentially then, Pear will host, in these three monumental venues, a triangular hotbed of cultural activity in Downtown Los Angeles.
4. Fortunata Brennecke, Los Angeles Architecture, Los Angeles: Pear Press, 2017, p. 302.
5. Personal correspondence with Winston.