A Rough Ride For Geller's 'Double Diamond' House

By Ted KruckelA little over a year ago, I wrote in these pages about a number of unusual architectural wonders that appeared to be at risk, due to poor caretaking, unclear ownership or a variety of other issues. The bright spot in that story was the phoenix­-like rising of the Pearlroth House, aka the “Double­ Diamond” House, situated in West Hampton Dunes and designed by mid-century Modernist architect and visionary Andrew Geller.

The back story behind the house was fascinating.

Built in 1958 very near the ocean’s edge, the Pearlroth House was to be a model of low­-cost/high-­efficiency beach living for the middle class. While its design of two tilted cubes may look whimsical, inside was a masterful use of space that provided a near­ perfect iteration of form-follows-function. For example, a beachgoer at the end of the day could ascend a rakish side ladder to enter directly into a shower stall to keep sandy feet out of the house.

Designed for a small family, there was a master and bunk room that slept four, a mezzanine kitchen, and a surprisingly spacious main living area that utilized the large rectangular main floor, achieved by putting the two cubes corner to corner, bisecting through the whole house.

But the practicality was known only to the users … to the rest of the world, it was a curiosity of the highest magnitude. Aaron Hess, architecture critic of the San Jose Mercury News and author of 19 books on modern architecture and urbanism in the mid­-20th century, observed: “The topsy turvy Pearlroth has caused cars to screech to a halt in the road in front of it since 1959.”

Jake Gorst, Andrew Geller’s grandson, remembered that because of the “precarious perch” appearance of the house, “once, when my grandfather was at the house, the Coast Guard came ashore and asked if everything was all right.”

Well, a revisit this spring found the Pearlroth “Double Diamond” house to be in fine shape. In many ways, the recently re­done house is a fairly authentic restoration. The original copper roofing and siding called for in the original plans but forgone due to cost have been added, to stunning effect. Some of the original cedar, where possible, has been maintained.

The occasion for the viewing was a book party celebrating the release of “Andrew Geller: Deconstructed,” ​now available online and in bookstores through Glitterati Inc. The author, Jake Gorst, besides or perhaps in part due to his provenance, is a known expert on mid­-century American modern architecture. Mr. Gorst directed a film, “Modern Tide: Midcentury Architecture on Long Island,” ​in 2012, and also a PBS series that aired in 2008, “Leisurama,” ​based on a book of the same name that documented the rise of populist beach architecture that was memorialized with an exhibit pavilion at the 1964 World’s Fair (also called “Leisurama”) and with a development of Geller-designed homes at Culloden in Montauk.

Mr. Gorst’s book is a fascinating look at his grandfather’s work and the historical context for it. Luckily for us Hamptonites, much of Mr. Geller’s most important work was done here in the Hamptons, and a number of meaningful houses still stand here today.

But in 2002, the Pearlroth “Double Diamond” house was in danger. It had been built perilously close to the ocean’s edge, but the fortuitous timing of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers installation of 15 groins (or jetties) from 1966 to 1970 had helped keep the water at bay. But Jonathan Pearlroth, the son of the original owner, had decided he would demolish the house and had applied for a demolition permit. Local architecture buffs, including local architecture historian Anne Surchin, Southampton Town Board member Linda Kabot and Mr. Gorst spun into action, and a variety of fund­raising campaigns and spirited appeals were made to save the house.

By 2005, things had started to look up: Mr. Pearlroth offered to give Mr. Gorst the house to move it and turn it into a museum. An application was submitted and approved by the National Trust for Historic Preservation, which is sort of like getting three Michelin stars as architectural landmarking recognition goes, with the understanding that the house would be turned into a “museum of architecture that would provide the public with a greater understanding of the creativity of recent past architecture,” to quote from a 2005 letter from the National Trust for Historic preservation. And the famous architecture critic Alastair Gordon, now with The Wall Street Journal, even pitched in, imploring the Town Board to do everything in its power to save the Pearlroth House, writing to town officials that he had named the structure “one of the 10 best houses in the Hamptons” in a 2001 New York Observer piece.

The resulting plan, painstakingly negotiated with the Town of Southampton, was to move the house from its original site on Dune Road, and the board offered to donate either one of two separate lots for the house to be situated on. One designated site was at the Pike Beach area in East Quogue, and the other site was near Cupsogue in West Hampton Dunes. It was estimated at the time that the cost to move the house would be $40,000, and Ernie Davis and his firm Davis Brothers Engineering, whose well­-known reputation was for moving houses from one site to another, was tapped.

To fund this undertaking, Mr. Gorst had turned to a man named David Shearer, who was the director of a New York City not-for-profit organization called Exhibitions International. Initially, the association worked well. In 2007, an optimistic article in The New York Times about the changing tide of fortune for the “Double Diamond” house quoted Mr. Shearer as saying that between $50­,000 and $150,000 would be needed to move and faithfully restore the house. There was a Kickstarter account opened, a benefit was held at the Center for Architecture that yielded $7­,000 to $8,000, and, most promising of all, Jay Sugarman, the chairman and CEO of iStar Financial, turned over a $50,000 donation to Exhibitions International for the Pearlroth house.

Mr. Shearer turned over an uncompleted film project to Jake Gorst, which Mr. Gorst then finished: “Desert Utopia” was released in 2010, with Mr. Gorst titled as director.

But a funny thing happened when it came time to write the check. The money raised—informed estimates from people involved range from $58,000­ to $75,000—was all gone.

Mr. Shearer told Mr. Gorst and Mr. Pearlroth that Exhibitions International was struggling. Specifically, it is believed by both Mr. Gorst and this writer that the money went to offset expenses for a traveling art show run by Exhibitions International for the Tiffany Foundation, featuring objets d’arts collected by Louis Comfort Tiffany.

Contacted in California, where he is now director of Claremont Heritage, an architecture preservation organization located near Los Angeles, Mr. Shearer at first said he had little to no recall of the whole affair. Asked if he could remember the names of donors, how much money was raised or where the money went, he also could not recall, but promised to look through his records.

A subsequent follow-­up call yielded a similar response—until the facts as presented here, confirmed with both Mr. Gorst and Mr. Pearlroth, were put to Mr. Shearer. Was there a donation by Jay Sugarman for $50,000? “I seem to recall that.” Was there an event held at the Center for Architecture in Manhattan and organized by you? “Oh, yes, now I do recall that.” Jake Gorst recalled approximately $7,000 to $­8,000 was raised that night—does that ring a bell? “That might be correct.”

But when asked directly if the funds had gone to cover expenses for a project Exhibitions International was doing for the Tiffany Foundation, which Mr. Gorst recalled being told when he first learned that the funds were missing, Mr. Shearer said, “Those decisions were made by the Exhibitions International Board … I suppose as the director I must share some of the responsibility.”
So, with the funds gone, Mr. Pearlroth made the decision to restore a house he once slated for demolition, possibly inspired by the outpouring of affection for the home within the Hamptons architectural preservation community—not to mention the enhanced property value of a house that had two recent features in The New York Times. So he decided to move the house forward on its existing lot, at his own expense. He then built a new 3,000-square­-foot, 4-bedroom home behind the Double Diamond, and attached the two with a deck and pool, all­ designed by CookFox Architects of Manhattan. In addition, the two houses were stained to match—usually a no-­no in the architecture preservation world.

The result? Pronto, now Mr. Pearlroth now owns a Hamptons luxury rental, which was listed for $225,000 for the 2015 summer season, and which was plucked up in just one day by what Mr. Pearlroth concedes was “north of the asking price.” When I asked Mr. Pearlroth if the tenants would have full use of the historic part of the house, his answer was yes.

Because of the way the two houses were joined, the National Trust for Historic Preservation has withdrawn its conditional acceptance to put the home on its Registry of Historic Places, and it declined to comment on a house it no longer has anything to do with.

As a way to possibly salvage the reputation of the house, Mr. Pearlroth has reached out to the Long Island Society of Antiquities about getting a designation, but those talks are just in the beginning stages.

Meanwhile, the hope that the house would serve as a museum remains just that—a hope. Pearlrothhouse.org states that the website will be up soon, as it has for the last year. Both Mr. Pearlroth and Mr. Gorst say they are committed to having the house be open to the public in some sort of way, but so far all Mr. Pearlroth would commit to was “someday in the fall.”

Mr. Gorst said on the phone recently, “The episode with Exhibitions International was unfortunate and one I’d rather forget.” When I ask him if he has any regrets about losing the interest of the National Trust for Historic Preservation, he replied, “Well, we succeeded in saving the house from destruction, and now it is good to go for another 50 years. So for that I am very glad.”

For his part, Mr. Pearlroth makes clear that every penny actually spent on the house moving and the renovation, which for the Double Diamond portion he pegs at $250,000, was paid by him.

His favorite memory of the house growing up? “It is, hands down, the absolute best house to play hide-and-seek in, with all of the crazy hidden spaces.”

No doubt.