The Year the Internet Started to Care About Architectural Preservation

"GULP!" began a late November Instagram post by Esotouric, a Los Angeles tour company focused on historic sites at the "secret heart" of the city. "Norm’s [sic] La Cienega, architectural and cultural landmark beloved by Angelenos and protected under the Los Angeles heritage ordinance, to become a Raising Cane’s chicken joint?" It seemed the national fast-food chain, which in 2021 purchased the Googie-style building designed by midcentury SoCal architects Louis Armet and Eldon Davis, was pursuing plans to kick out the existing diner when its lease ended in 2026, intending to use the space for one of its own outlets.

Cane’s didn’t seem to mind that Norms had occupied the space-age-style structure for 67 years; the building and its sawtooth pennant neon sign having even been captured in a 1964 Ed Ruscha painting. L.A. preservationists, on the other hand, certainly did. "How is this possible?" replied journalist and longtime Angeleno Alison Martino. "It’s been landmarked. I don’t understand what I’m hearing." Mark London, a SoCal native who’s designed album covers for Brian Wilson and Micky Dolenz, chimed in too, saying: "My city’s having a complete nervous breakdown. What’s next? Remove the Hollywood sign and replace it with a Nike swoosh?"

This year saw online culture seizing on and amplifying outrage around potential architectural catastrophes like the one at Norms, with the growing tide of concern reaching much beyond the typically involved circles. Perhaps people felt buoyed by the successful rebuff of the planned demolition of Marilyn Monroe’s final L.A. home, which drummed up quite a bit of noise on social media, or maybe they hit their limit after seeing historic houses across the country, many of them by modernist masters, unceremoniously torn down for new-builds or destroyed by climate disasters. Either way, it seems preservation issues are causing more of a stir on the internet these days than in years prior.

With Norms, the ire seems to have made a difference, for now, at least. When preservationist groups like Esotouric and the nonprofit Los Angeles Conservancy aired their grievances on Instagram and in the media, they encouraged their followers to reach out to the Cultural Heritage Commission (CHC). So many did that, just a few days before the CHC was meant to hold a hearing about the proposed remodel, Raising Cane’s backed off. "We have heard the community’s concerns," the company said, "and we are in discussions with Norm’s [sic] about the future of the site."

Some of that quick-sparking response from Angelenos could’ve come from the fact that so many of the city’s historic structures seem to always be in some sort of peril, often by developers looking to homogenize and "modernize" historic restaurants, watering holes, and even landmark homes. Take, for instance, the outrage that surrounded the demolition of California modernist architect Craig Ellwood’s 1950 Zimmerman House in Brentwood. Leveled by celebrity couple Chris Pratt and Katherine Schwarzenegger so that they could build a 15,000-square-foot modern farmhouse on the land instead, the L.A. midcentury was not only one of few surviving examples of Ellwood’s early work, but it also boasted mature landscaping by renowned modern landscape designer Garrett Eckbo that was destroyed. Though Pratt already had more than a few detractors online who’d dubbed him "the worst Chris" for other reasons, his actions garnered him even more, with people taking to X, TikTok, and Reddit to post angry comments like, "I know its [sic] just material but sincerely, burn in the deepest pits of hell, bro." Even actor Elijah Wood weighed in, retweeting our story on the teardown and registering his disappointment in emoji form.

Just a few months later, a similar wave of outrage was directed at a pair of married crypto entrepreneurs who’d bought the Frank Lloyd Wright–designed Price Tower in Bartlesville, Oklahoma, just to fail to provide promised upgrades, sneakily attempt to sell off protected fixtures and artifacts, and then evict all tenants, arranging to sell the building at auction to pay off debts. That auction of FLW’s only built skyscraper was supposed to happen in October, then November, but it’s been postponed indefinitely now, thanks in part to a substantial bit of outcry from preservationists and Wright fans—and a legal challenge from the owners of a Tulsa development company that said they’d actually bought the building for $1.4 million before it hit the auction block. Local media started investigating the story in spring when rumors began to swirl about trouble in the tower, and by fall, national media outlets were piling on to report on the saga, including the New York Times and Dwell. It seems that as more eyes have turned toward the plight of the building and its potential sale, more pressure has been placed on both the seller and the auction site, Ten-X, to do the right thing—whatever that is at this point.

But it’s not just human intervention that’s caused the preservation catastrophes that online masses have responded to with fervor. It’s also been the weather, from the accelerating landslide that led to the disassembly and removal of California’s landmark Wayfarers Chapel by FLW’s son, Lloyd Wright, from its beautiful but shifting oceanside perch in Rancho Palos Verdes, to the devastating hurricanes that left some of western Florida’s Sarasota School-style structures absolutely destroyed, like the 1952 Sanderling Beach Club Cabanas by Paul Rudolph.

Wayfarers Chapel was able to raise more than $77,000 via a GoFundMe for the removal and future relocation of its organic modern ecclesiastical structures (though that’s a mere fraction of what they’ll ultimately need). Meanwhile, organizers in Sarasota put a Disaster Recovery Assistance plan online, with the goal of teaching architects and midcentury homeowners in the area about what they can do to minimize the effects of the coming swell of storms that’ll no doubt roll through the area and their homes. While there’s some debate about whether what can be saved should be saved (and, moving forward, how—or if—we can build housing ethically in climate disaster zones), the fact that these conversations are even happening is a sign of an engaged preservationist community that’s potentially expanding.

While online fury can wane just as quickly as it whirls up, and, of course, heated internet discussions can be precarious, over the past year, a lot of that attention actually helped existing preservation efforts. This can only be a good thing, because if there’s any lesson we’ve learned in recent memory when it comes to protecting historic architecture, it’s that the battles will keep coming.

Top photos by (clockwise from left): Julius Shulman, courtesy © J. Paul Getty Trust; FC/Bauer-Griffin/GC Images; Patrick T. Fallon/AFP via Getty Images

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