My Magazine

F a l l

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GLA NC E FASHION Rosie Huntington Whiteley The Great Fashion Model

2011

Twist and Shout

10

Years of the Disney Hall

December 2011

Getting A Taste of LA Life

G L A N CE TABLE OF CONTENTS

05 Letter From The Editor 07 START: Introducing The Sushi Life 08 START: Fashion’s Newest Rising Star 10 START: Why New York For Fashion?

12 START: The Passion For Vodka 14 Product 18 Josh Christansen From Project Runway 22 Julius Schulman Years of the Disney Hall: 28 10 Building With A Twist

G LAN CE

The Fashion Issue

Editor: Sara Mangoli Art Director: Sara Mangoli Photography: Sara Mangoli

Advertisements Rosie Huntington-Whiteley Chanel Dior Miu Miu Swatch D&G Faceatum de nonsequam int archil eos dolupta sum et excea nrem numquid ma nseque dolupta temposam, suntorerit dolendit re molenim ossimos estions enihill uptati dolescit, corem ipsus core, quide is iissimusa tion

Letter From The Editor “Believe you can and you’re halfway there.”

-Theodore Roosevelt

M

y name is Sara Mangoli. I was

me a new outlook of life and what the world’s beauty can re-

born in Miami, Florida on July

ally be. Life is a journey, and I am on the path of beiginning

14, 1990. Ever since as a

mine. Taking baby steps will help you figure out who you are

child, I was fond of anything art related.

and who you want to become. Each step is filled with new

As the years passed by, my passion

oppurtinies, challenges, goals, and outcomes that will lead

for art has grown stronger where then I

you to your future. It will guide you to become that special

decided to follow my dreams to be be-

individual that you are. So to my readers, I leave you with

come a Graphic Designer. I enjoy using

this: Use your FREEDOM TO DREAM AND PURSUE THEM,

my creative mind and sharing it with the

IMAGINE, CREATE, SHOW THE WORLD WHAT YOU CAN

world. I love to be different and stand

DO, STAND OUT, SUBSTITUTE CAN’T WITH CAN, and

out. This passion of mine has showed

most importantly...NEVER GIVE UP!

G LA N C E

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START Introducing The

sushi Life

By Sally Wadyka

W

hen I first saw this recipe I knew it had to be good, just reading through the list of ingredients you can’t help but be intrigued. The Bombay Sapphire infusion of apples and pears are echoed in the cider and brandy, then there is absinthe and ginger beer for contrasting but complimentary flavors, and on top of all that the unique addition of Fee Brother Aztec Chocolate bitters.

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START

“I DONT DO FASHION, I AM FASHION.”

Nina Rihoya: Fashion’s Newest Rising Star

By Sara Mangoli

B

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G LA N C E

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Nam del mos mo quo cupta velibus ant ius enditi doluptata voluptatibus ipsam, sa comnimusdae vit voloraeprem eribuste nonem doloria tiumqui alignatur auda debit eos audant et ad ex et experatem a vel in re ipicitias pererro es necto tem unt, volenesectum atur rest assi dolorias veruptatur solut laut eum eos quisitias excest vellaci moditis ut qui velit minullection nosa iscipitatiis arum voluptatum est laborate consed modior rem venet laborio blantio ratquis asinulpa dolorpo resedipsanis excese peles accus molupicient duciis rat voloreium int, inctemp orioria doluptam velique vel il ipsae nosant, nullacernam rempora turion nonet vent ius eum, expliae. Itaquod erum que volenis seri animi, omni quo il is volor atur?

START Why N.Y. For Fashion?

Shop Till You Drop in the City That Never Sleeps!

By Nick Marks

I

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G LA N C E

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rem corro et ad quam iusapel illanis aliqui autamet ut vidit ex eos eum que verum re pa vellibuscidi aut re necuptasime conesedit reic tem quo occus eatur sitem ipsunt.

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START The Passion For VODKA

By Angel Clark

O

fficil is aliquam ut aut dendigendus, consequiate voluptam aut qui totas aspelloresti dignis et voluptum sum expe consed mod molupta tissendaero coreper speriatia volupti busdam, que omnim et, solupta que solorestia nihitas volupta volorru ptatend iciasi omnitionse eruptint ius dolorum et assitiasit parum quae pro eicia provita temporum ut dolorumque velicia prerit et inusandellab iur, omnitate electum, soluptatur, to occus, accus, volorep tinctur aribustias atia net, officid ucienimusdam nobissinciis ressunt ex eatem sanieni mincten iatius ius et mi, sim quo beribus nus velessi nitaquatum, sit est, omnienim atiatem reri re, nemos issediorias etur?

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Nempor ad excestias se necae num inctorpor asped maion re ma vides et, con eseque est descillut velicae essunti aut ommo dolorpo reptatet, cum audam nobit, voluptatis eum eiciunt.

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Equatin corecum faccat ute venim doluptae non exernatem volenihilita consed quo te pratus.

G LA N C E

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LA Begins Here GL A NCE

www.Glance.com

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GLANCE

I

t’s a town after all. Seen ay night by air, the city seems a large bracelet of lights and pools. It is only 500 square miles but it feels larger. Divided into 80 districts and neighborhoods, at first the city seems disjointed, a bewildering terrain of mountains and valleys that ultimately touch the sea. Second in population

to only New York City, Los Angeles could not be more different. One can still hide in the shadows and hills of a vast LA sunset. And more and more people choose to live here, ignoring the proclamation of Woody Allen in Annie Hall “that I don’t want to move to a city where the only cultural advantage is being able to make a

JOSHUA CHRISTIANSEN

From Project Runway to New York Fashion Week, Designer Joshua Christiansen tells the MODE what the future holds for him.

J

oshua Christensen is no stranger to fashion design. This Washington native moved to Los Angeles in 2009 after majoring in Humanities/Art History at BYU. Christensen graduated FIDM in December of 2010, and was picked to participate in Season 9 of Project Runway. Back in Los Angeles, Christensen is currently working on two collections: one for FIDM Debut, and one for New York Fashion Week.

Graham: When designing a garment, what sources of inspiration do you draw from?

Joshua: My greatest source of inspiration is the culture around me, and the general feelings I get from being involved in the movements of the people.

I also pull inspiration from pop culture such as movies, music and other media sources.

G: What are your opinions on current trends?

J: I think there are so many people following so many trends that it’s cool for people to find what they’re comfortable with. I may not like all of the trends but it’s cool that the option is out there.

G: You were able to build a fan base from appearing on Project Runway this season, how do you ntend to continue this momentum?

J: I’m currently working on a full mens/womens col tion with one of the contestants from the show and G LA N C E

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we are planning on showing in NY fashion week in February. It’s important to just keep going. The best question fans ask when they meet me is “Are you still designing?” I can’t help but laugh and tell them, ‘of course I am.’ Not winning the show did not crush my dreams. I’m more motivated and driven than ever before. Between the Debut show collection and the NY collection I hope to become a successful designer creating collection after collection.

G: You had to utilize a lot of unconventional materials during your time on Project Runway; has that affected your resourcefulness as a designer?

J: Yes and no. I think the best lesson I learned on the show is that fashion can go beyond the conventional. I’m learning that it’s possible to just let go and really explore the possibilities of design. It’s im portant not to waste potential in design whether it’s using a new material or using new shapes or details.

Pursue Your Dreams!

G: How has the direct competition you received through Project Runway affected your work ethic?

J: I’ve always worked hard but the show has shown me that I have to work even harder. There are so many talented individuals in the world and even if I can’t be the most naturally talented designer, I can still be the hardest working; and that will take me even further.

G: How do you intend to differentiate yourself from other designers?

J: I am unique as a person and as a designer but I get what a man wants to wear. I will design clothes that work in fashion, business, and life.

G: What do you hope to accomplish with your collection for FIDM Debut?

J: I hope to show my individuality and perspective in design. My Debut Menswear collection is going to show exactly where I want to go in fashion. This will be yet another step in my conquest for powerful fashion.

G: What’s the next creative step in your career?

J: Create a Fashion Empire! I look forward to working harder than ever before. So many amazing opportunities are opening up to me and I have to be prepared to take as many as possible. We’ll G LA N C E

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see what happens after Debut and NY but I hope to continue on a personal line of clothes working on my Menswear. I think a lot of people forget that I am almost exclusively a menswear designer. My debut collection and NY half will be my menswear.

G: How has your personal design aesthetic evolved?

J: I think when I first started designing I placed limitations on my work but as I grow in design I find that I’m changing. My aesthetic is powerful, dark and romantic. I think as I grow this becomes stronger in my work.

G: Besides fashion design, what are some other creative outlets that you’re interested in?

J: I write quite a bit actually and have books full of ideas and creative writings. I still love studying art, and checking out museums and exhibits. It’s important to be as creative as possible.

G: What words of encouragement would you give to prospective students, or fashion employees in the industry?

J: Keep going! Never give up on the dream. This is not an easy industry but if this is truly your passion, you will sacrifice and work until you make it. That’s my plan.

Never Give up!

Julius Schulman

Through the Lens

E

ven if you’re confused by the fork in the driveway, which slopes up to the Edenic apex of Laurel Canyon, or don’t recognize architect Raphael Soriano’s mid-century design landmark, you can’t miss Julius Shulman’s place.

It’s the one with the eight-foot-high banner bearing his name—an advertisement for his 2005 Getty Museum exhibition “Modernity and the Metropolis”—hanging before the door to the studio adjoining the house. As displays of ego go, it’s hard to beat. Yet the voice calling out from behind it is friendly, even eager—“Come on in!” And drawing back the banner, one finds, not a monument, but a man: behind an appealingly messy desk, wearing blue suspenders and specs with lenses as big as Ring Dings, and offering a smile of roguish beatitude.

You’d smile, too. At 96, Shulman is the best known architectural photographer in the world, and one of the genre’s most influential figures. Between 1936, when a fateful meeting with architect Richard Neutra began his career, and his semi-retirement half a century later, he used his instinctive compositional elegance and hair-trigger command of light to document more than 6,500 projects, creating images that defined many of the masterworks of 20th-century architecture.

By:Sara Mangoli

S

hulman’s decision to call it quits in 1986 was motivated less by age than a distaste for postmodern architecture. But, he insists, “it wasn’t quite retiring,” citing the ensuing decade and a half of lectures, occasional assignments, and work on books. Then, in 2000, Shulman was introduced to a German photographer named Juergen Nogai, who was in L.A. from Bremen on assignment. The men hit it off immediately, and began partnering on work motivated by the maestro’s brand-name status. “A lot of people, they think, It’d be great to have our house photographed

by Julius Shulman,” says Nogai. “We did a lot of jobs like that at first. Then, suddenly, people figured out, Julius is working again.”

“I realized that I was embarking on another chapter of my life,” Shulman says, the pleasure evident in his time-softened voice. “We’ve done many assignments”—Nogai puts the number at around 70—“and they all came out beautifully. People are always very cooperative,” he adds. “They spend days knowing I’m coming. Everything is clean and fresh. I don’t have to raise a finger.” As regards the division of labor, the 54-year-old Nogai says tactfully, “The more active is me because of the age. Julius is finding the perspectives, and I’m setting up the lights, and finetuning the image in the camera.” While Shulman acknowledges their equal partnership, and declares Nogai’s lighting abilities to be unequaled, his assessment is more succinct: “I make the compositions. There’s only one Shulman.”

In fact, there seem to be many. There’s Shulman the photographer, who handles three to five assignments a month (and never turns one down—“Don’t have to. Everyone’s willing to wait”), and the Shulman between hard covers, whose latest book, the three-volume, 950-page Modernism Rediscovered, will shortly be published by Taschen. But the Shulman of whom Shulman seems most proud is the educator. In 2005, he established an eponymous G LA N C E

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institute in conjunction with the Woodbury University in nearby Burbank, to provide, according to the school, “programs that promote the appreciation and understanding of architecture and design.” Apart from a fellowship program and research center, the Julius Shulman Institute’s principal asset is its founder, who has given dozens of talks at high schools across Southern California.

“The subject is the power of photography,” Shulman explains. “I have thousands of slides, and Juergen and I have assembled them into almost 20 different lectures. And not just about architecture—I have pictures of cats and dogs, fashion pictures, flower photographs. I use them to do a lot of preaching to the students, to give them something to do with their lives, and keep them from dropping out of school.”

It all adds up to a very full schedule, which Shulman handles largely by himself—“My daughter comes once a week from Santa Barbara and takes care of my business affairs, and does my shopping”—and with remarkable ease for a near-centenarian. Picking up the oversized calendar on which he records his appointments, Shulman walks me through a typical seven days: “Thom Mayne— we had lunch with him. Long Beach, AIA meeting. People were here for a meeting about my photography at the Getty [which houses his archive]. High school students, a lecture. Silver Lake, the Neutra house, they’re opening part of the lake frontage, I’m going to see that. USC, a lecture. Then an assignment, the Griffith Observatory—we’ve already started that one.”

Yet rather than seeming overtaxed, Shulman fairly exudes well-being. Like many elderly people with nothing left to prove, and who remain in demand both for their talents and as figures of veneration (think of George Burns), Shulman takes things very easy: He knows what his employers and admirers want, is happy to provide it, and accepts the resulting reaffirmation of his legend

‘I don’t want to be the guy who learns. I want to be the guy who knows.’ with a mix of playfully rampant immodesty and heartfelt gratitude.

As the man himself puts it, “The world’s my onion.”

Given the fun Shulman’s having being Shulman, one might expect the work to suffer. But his passion for picture-making remains undiminished. “I was surprised at how engaged Julius was,” admits the Chicago auction-house mogul Richard Wright, who hired Shulman to photograph Pierre Koenig’s Case Study House #21 prior to selling it last year. “He did 12 shots in two days, which is a lot. And he really nailed them.” Of this famous precision, says the writer Howard Rodman, whose John Lautner–designed home Shulman photographed in 2002: “There’s a story about Steve McQueen, where a producer was trying to get him to sign on to a movie. The producer said, ‘Look how much you change from the beginning to the end.’ And McQueen said, And Shulman struck me as the guy who knows.”

This becomes evident as, picking up the transparencies from his two most recent assignments, he delivers an impromptu master class. “We relate to the position of the sun every minute of the day,” Shulman begins, holding an exterior of a 1910 Craftsmanstyle house in Oakland, by Bernard Maybeck, to the lamp atop his desk. “So when the sun moves around, we’re ready for our picture. I have to be as specific as a sports photographer—even a little faster,” he says, nodding at the image, in which light spills through a latticework overhang and patterns a façade. “This is early afternoon, when the sun is just hitting the west side of the building.

If I’m not ready for that moment, I lose the day.” He does not, however, need to observe the light prior to photographing: “I was a Boy Scout—I know where the sun is every month of the year.

And I never use a meter.”

Shulman is equally proud of his own lighting abilities. “I’ll show you something fascinating,” he says, holding up two exteriors of a new modernist home, designed for a family named Abidi, by architect James Tyler. In the first, the inside of the house is dark, resulting in a handsome, somewhat lifeless image. In the second, it’s been lit in a way that seems a natural balance of indoor and outdoor illumination, yet expresses the structure’s relationship to its site and showcases the architecture’s transparency. “The house is transfigured,” Shulman explains.

“I have four Ts. Transcend is, I go beyond what the architect himself has seen. Transfigure—glamorize, dramatize with lighting, time of day. Translate—there are times, when you’re working with a man like Neutra, who wanted everything the way he wanted it—‘Put the camera here.’ And after he left, I’d put it back where I wanted it, and he wouldn’t know the difference—I translated. And fourth, I transform the composition with furniture movement.”

To illustrate the latter, Shulman shows me an interior of the Abidi house that looks out from the living room, through a long glass wall, to the grounds. “Almost every one of my photographs has a diagonal leading you into the picture,” he says. Taking a notecard and pen, he draws a line from the lower left corner to the upper right, then a second perpendicular line from the lower right corner to the first line. Circling the intersection, he explains, “That’s the point of what we call ‘dynamic symmetry.’” When he holds up the photo again, I see that the line formed by the bottom of the glass wall—dividing inside from outside—roughly mirrors the diagonal he’s drawn. Shulman then indicates the second, per-

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pendicular line created by the furniture arrangement. “My assis- times it’s called for.”

“Are you pleased with these photographs?” I ask as he sets tants moved [the coffee table] there, to complete the line. When the owner saw the Polaroid, she said to her husband, ‘Why don’t them aside. “I’m pleased with all my work,” he says cheerfully.

“I tell people in my lectures, ‘If I were modest, I wouldn’t we do that all the time?’”

Shulman’s remark references one of his signature gambits: talk about how great I am.’” Yet when I ask how he devel-oped his what he calls “dressing the set,” not only by moving furniture but eye, Shulman’s expression turns philosophical. “Sometimes Juerby adding everyday objects and accessories. “I think he was try- gen walks ahead of me, and he’ll look for a composition. And ining to portray the lifestyle people might have had if they’d lived variably, he doesn’t see what I see. Architects don’t see what I see. in those houses,” suggests the Los Angeles–based architectural I suggest a tour of the house, and Shulman moves carefully to a rolling walker he calls “the Mercedes” and photographer Tim StreetIt’s God-given,” he says, using heads out of the studio and up the front Porter. “He was doing—with a totally positive use of the the Yiddish word for an act of steps. As a plaque beside the entrance indicates, the 3,000-square-foot, three-bedwords—advertising or proroom structure, which Shulman commispagandist photographs for kindness—“a mitzvah.” sioned in 1948 and moved into two years the cause.” This impulse culminated in Shulman’s introduction of people into his pictures— later, was landmarked by L.A.’s Cultural Heritage Commission as commonplace today, but virtually unique 50 years ago. “Those the only steel-frame Soriano house that remains as built. Today, photographs—with young, attractive people having breakfast in such Case Study–era residences are as fetishized (and expensive) glass rooms beside carports with two-tone cars—were remarkable as Fabergé eggs. But when Shulman opens the door onto a wide, in the history of architectural photography,” Street-Porter says. cork-lined hallway leading to rooms that, after six decades, remain refreshing in their clarity of function and communication, use of “He took that to a wonderfully high level.”

Surprisingly, Shulman underplays this aspect of his oeuvre. simple, natural materials, and openness to the out-of-doors, I’m The idea, he explains, is simply to “induce a feeling of occupancy. reminded that the movement’s motivation was egalitarian, not elitFor example, in the Abidi house, I put some wineglasses and bot- ist: to produce well-designed, affordable homes for young, midtles on the counter, which would indicate that people are coming dle-class families.

“Most people whose houses I photographed didn’t use their for dinner. Then there are times I’ll select two or three people—the owner of a house, or the children—and put them to work. Some- sliding doors,” Shulman says, crossing the living room toward G LA N C E

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his own glass sliders. “Because flies and lizards would come in; do anything. I was even thinking of getting a job in the parks dethere were strong winds. So I told Soriano I wanted a transition— partment raking leaves, just so I could be outside. And within two a screened-in enclosure in front of the living room, kitchen, and weeks, I met Neutra, by chance. March 5, 1936—that day, I bebedroom to make an indoor/outdoor room.” Shulman opens the came a photographer. Why not?” door leading to an exterior dining area. A bird trills loudly. “That’s Hearing this remarkable tale, I understand that Shulman has a wren,” he says, and steps out. “My wife and I had most of our answered my question about his talent with an explanation of his meals out here,” he recalls. “Beautiful.” nature. What Neutra perceived in the young amateur was an outWe continue past the house to Shulman’s beloved garden— doorsman’s independent spirit and an enthusiasm for life’s possihe calls it “the jungle”—a riot of vegetation that overwhelms bilities, qualities that, as fate would have it, merged precisely with much of the site, and frames an almost completely green canyon the boundless optimism of the American Century—an optimism, view. “I planted hundreds of trees and shrubs—back there you Shulman instinctively recognized, that was embodied in the modcan see my redwoods,” he says, gesturing at the slope rising at the ern houses that became, as Street-Porter says, “a muse to him.” property’s rear. “Seedlings, as big as my thumb. They’re 85 feet “[Shulman] always says proudly that Soriano hated his furtall now.” He pauses to consider an ominously large paw print in niture,” says Wim de Wit, the Getty Research Institute curator who the path. “It’s too big for a dog. A bobcat wouldn’t be that big, ei- oversees Shulman’s collection. “He says, ‘I don’t care; when I sit ther. It’s a mystery,” Shulman decides, pushing the Mercedes past in a chair I want to be comfortable.’ He does not think of himself a ficus as big as a baobab. as an artist. ‘I was doing a business,’ he says. But when you look The mystery I find myself pondering, as we walk beside at that overgrown garden, you know—there is some other streak in the terraced hillside, is the one he cited himself: the source of his him.” That streak—the free soul within the unpretentious, practical talent. In 1936, Shulman was an ama-teur photographer—gifted, product of the immigrant experience—produced what Nogai calls but without professional ambition—when he was invited by an “a seldom personality”: a Jewish farm boy who grew up to create architect friend to visit Richard Neutra’s Kun House. Shulman, internationally recognized American cultural artifacts—icons that who’d never seen a modern residence, took a handful of snapshots continue to influ-ence our fantasies and self-perceptions. with the Kodak vest-pocket camera his sister had given him, and I ask Shulman if he’s surprised at how well his life has turned sent copies to his friend as out. he replies. “But I have a thank-you. When Neualways observed and retra saw the images, he respected my destiny. That’s “I tell students, quested a meeting, bought the only way I can describe ‘Don’t take life too the photos, and asked the it. It was meant to be.”

26-year-old if he’d like “And it was a destiny seriously—don’t plan more work. Shulman acthat suited you?” nothing nohow.” cepted and—virtually on a At this, everything whim—his career took off. rises at once—his eyeWhen I ask Shulman brows, his outstretched what Neutra saw in his images, he answers with a seemingly un- arms, and his peaceful, satisfied smile. “Well,” says Shulman, related story. “I was born in Brooklyn in 1910,” says this child of “here I am.”

Russian-Jewish immigrants. “When I was three, my father went to the town of Central Village in Connecticut, and was shown this farmhouse—primitive, but [on] a big piece of land. After we moved in, he planted corn and potatoes, my mother milked the cows, and we had a farm life.

“And for seven years, I was imbued with the pleasure of living close to nature. In 1920, when we came here to Los Angeles, I joined the Boy Scouts, and enjoyed the outdoor-living aspect, hiking and camping. My father opened a clothing store in Boyle Heights, and my four brothers and sisters and my mother worked in the store. They were businesspeople.” He flashes a slightly cocky smile. “I was with the Boy Scouts.”

We arrive at a sitting area, with a small pool of water, a fireplace, and a large sculpture (purchased from one of his daughter’s high school friends) made from Volkswagen body parts. Shulman lowers himself onto a bench and absorbs the abundant natural pleasures. “When I bought this land, my brother said, ‘Why don’t you subdivide? You’ll make money.’” He looks amused. “Two acres at the top of Laurel Canyon, and the studio could be converted into a guest house—it could be sold for millions.”

He resumes his story. “At the end of February 1936, I’d been at UCLA, and then Berkeley, for seven years. Never graduated, never majored. Just audited classes. I was driving home from Berkeley”—Shulman hesitates dramatically—“and I knew I could G L AN CE

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The Frank Gehry designed Disney Hall is a mass of reflections and curious angles

By: Melissa Rubenstein Photographed by: Alden Walters

Twist

Building With A

T

he Los Angeles Philharmonic continues its reinvention of the concept of a 21st-century orchestra under the vibrant leadership of Gustavo Dudamel.

Embarking on its 92nd season in 2010/11, the Philharmonic is recognized as one of the world’s outstanding orchestras and is received enthusiastically by audiences and critics alike. Both at home and abroad, the Philharmonic is leading the way in innovative programming and redefining the musical experience.

This view is shared by more than one million listeners who experience live performances by the Los Angeles Philharmonic each year. The Philharmonic demonstrates a breadth and depth of programming unrivaled by other orchestras and cultural institutions, performing or presenting nearly 300 concerts throughout the year at its two iconic venues: Walt Disney Concert Hall and the Hollywood Bowl, a popular summer tradition since 1922. The orchestra’s involvement with Los Angeles also extends far beyond regular symphonic performances in a concert hall, embracing the schools, churches, and neighborhood centers of a vastly diverse community.

The Los Angeles Philharmonic was founded by William Andrews Clark Jr., a multi-millionaire and amateur musician, who established the city’s first permanent symphony orchestra in 1919. The 94 musicians of the new ensemble met for their first rehearsal Monday morning, October 13 of that year, under the direction of Walter Henry Rothwell, whom Clark had brought from the St. Paul (Minnesota) Symphony Orchestra. Eleven days later, Rothwell conducted the orchestra’s premiere performance before a capacity audience of 2,400 at Trinity Auditorium in downtown Los Angeles. The audience heard Dvořák’s New World Symphony, Liszt’s Les Préludes, the Overture to Weber’s Oberon, and Chabrier’s España.

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othwell remained the orchestra’s Music Director until his death in 1927. Since then, ten renowned conductors have served in that capacity: Georg Schnéevoigt (1927-1929); Artur Rodzinski (1929-1933); Otto Klemperer (1933-1939); Alfred Wallenstein (1943-1956); Eduard van Beinum (1956-1959); Zubin Mehta (1962-1978); Carlo Maria Giulini (1978-1984); André Previn (1985-1989); Esa-Pekka Salonen (1992-2009); and Gustavo Dudamel (2009-present).

Following its opening season in 1919/1920, the orchestra made Philharmonic Auditorium, on the northeast corner of Fifth and Olive, its home for the next 44 years. In 1964, the orchestra moved to the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion of the Los Angeles Music Center, which was its winter home until

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its final performances there in May 2003.

In October 2003, the doors to one of the world’s most celebrated venues — the Frank Gehry-designed Walt Disney Concert Hall — were opened and the Los Angeles Philharmonic took the stage in its new home, which has become known not only as a local cultural landmark, but also as “…a sensational place to hear music... In richness of sound, it has few rivals on the international scene, and in terms of visual drama it may have no rival at all.” (The New Yorker) Praise for both the design and the acoustics of the Hall has been effusive, and the glistening curved steel exterior of the 293,000-square-foot Walt Disney Concert Hall embodies the energy, imagination, and creative spirit of the city of Los Angeles and its orchestra.

Frank Gehry

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rank Gehry was born Ephraim Owen Goldberg in Toronto, Canada. He moved with his family to Los Angeles as a teenager in 1947 and later became a naturalized U.S. citizen. His father changed the family’s name to Gehry when the family immigrated.

Ephraim adopted the first name Frank in his 20s; since then he has signed his name Frank O. Gehry.

Uncertain of his career direction, the teenage Gehry drove a delivery truck to support himself while taking a variety of courses at Los Angeles City College. He took his first architecture courses on a hunch, and became enthralled with the possibilities of the art, although at first he found himself hampered by his relative lack of skill as a draftsman.

Sympathetic teachers and an early encounter with modernist architect Raphael Soriano confirmed his career choice. He won scholarships to the University of Southern California and graduated in 1954 with a degree in architecture.

Los Angeles was in the middle of a post-war housing boom and the work of pioneering modernists like Richard Neutra and Rudolph Schindler were an exciting part of the city’s architectural scene. Gehry went to work full-time for the notable Los Angeles firm of Victor Gruen Associates, where he had apprenticed as a student, but his work at Gruen was soon interrupted by compulsory military service. After serving for a year in the United States Army, Gehry entered the Harvard Graduate School of Design, where he studied city planning, but he returned to Los Angeles without completing a graduate degree. He briefly joined the firm of Pereira and Luckman before returning to Victor Gruen. Gruen Associates were highly successful practitioners of the severe utilitarian style of the period, but Gehry was restless. He took his wife and two children to Paris, where he spent a year working in the office of the French architect Andre Remondet and studied firsthand the work of the pioneer modernist Le Corbusier.

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nspired to consider new directions, Gustavo Dudamel and the Philharmonic aim to find programming that remains faithful to tradition, yet also seeks new ground, new audiences, and new ways to enhance the symphonic music experience. During its 30-week winter subscription season of 110 performances at Walt Disney Concert Hall, the Philharmonic creates festivals, artist residencies, and other thematic programs designed to delve further into certain artists’ or composers’ work.

The Los Angeles Philharmonic’s commitment to the presentation of music of our time is evident in its subscription concerts, the exhilarating Green Umbrella series, and its extensive commissioning initiatives. Now in its 29th year, the Los Angeles Philharmonic New Music Group, devoted exclu-

sively to performing compositions on the cutting edge of the repertoire, attracts leading composers and performers of contemporary music.

The Los Angeles Philharmonic Association expands its cultural offerings by producing concerts featuring distinguished artists in recital, jazz, world music, songbook, and visiting orchestra performances, in addition to special holiday concerts and series of organ recitals, chamber music, and baroque music.

The Philharmonic has led the way into the digital age, with groundbreaking web and mobile device applications.

Through an ongoing partnership with Deutsche Grammophon, the orchestra has a substantial catalog of concerts available online, including the first classical music video released on iTunes.

How To Get There:

COVER STORY

Rosie HuntingtonWhiteley

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osie Alice Huntington-Whiteley was born 18 April 1987 in Plymouth, Devon, England (Freedom Fields Hospital), and grew up on her parents’ country farm. She attended Tavistock College and has been modeling since 2003 for a variety of clothiers: Abercrombie & Fitch, Burberry, Bloomingdale’s, Ralph Lauren, DKNY. She started modeling for Victoria’s Secret in 2006 and was officially named one of the lingerie company’s “Angels” in November 2009, at the age of 22. Her first film role will be as “Carly”, replacing Megan Fox as Sam’s new love interest in the third installment of the Transformers series: Transformers: Dark of the Moon (2011).