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Cool cats and tiki treats: Inside the outrageous Midcentury Modern Shag House in Palm Springs

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Cool cats and tiki treats: Inside the outrageous Midcentury Modern Shag House in Palm Springs

In a neighborhood filled with homogeneous Midcentury Modern residences, Brandon McBurney’s Palm Springs home stands out thanks to its 10-foot-tall lime green doors that face the street.

“I wanted something that would stand up to the history of the Palm Springs front door,” says Josh Agle, the artist popularly known as Shag, who designed the house and chose the lively hue. “There’s no such thing as too cheesy.”

Agle was referring to the Shag House, McBurney’s four-bedroom home designed by architects Dan Palmer and William Krisel for the Alexander Construction Co. in 1958. The house started as a whimsical idea by branding guru John-Patrick Flynn in 2021: Purchase a run-down Midcentury Modern tract home in Palm Springs and invite Shag to reimagine it as one of his artworks.

The front patio and the outdoor lounge at the Shag House. (Mariah Tauger / Los Angeles Times)

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A sunny cat-themed bedroom features custom wallpaper by Shag, a.k.a. artist Josh Agle.

(Mariah Tauger / Los Angeles Times)

On a recent sunny afternoon, Agle, whose colorful artworks depict cool cats, Hawaiian tiki gods and martini-sipping swingers, had just put the finishing touches on the house, which will be open to the public during Modernism Week, which runs Feb. 15-25.

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“We built it exactly to his specifications,” says Flynn, who found the house along with McBurney and Agle after looking at 22 others. “Josh created a piece of art, handed it to us, and said, ‘Build this.’ And we did.”

The process was sometimes challenging. For instance, when Agle designed an outdoor bar topped with a round roof, the contractors told them it was impossible to build. However, the 61-year-old artist insisted. “He stayed true to his design,” Flynn says of the bar, now ready for cocktail service.

As the principal designer, Agle had the final say on the home’s design, with some input from McBurney, 46, who purchased the house in the Little Beverly Hills neighborhood of Palm Springs for $935,750 in 2021.

Intentionally askew liquor-themed artwork hangs on a wall in the game room.

(Mariah Tauger / Los Angeles Times)

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Homeowner Brandon McBurney gives some love to his dog, Thor, in the Shag House’s living room.

(Mariah Tauger / Los Angeles Times)

“I would do renderings, and they would often tell me it would be hard to do,” Agle says of the design and build process. “I changed some things. But I was unbending on the bar, especially since it was in the renderings, and they had shown it on social media.”

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Although McBurney was OK with Agle’s tongue-in-cheek designs, including cat-, tiki- and Asian-themed bedrooms with velvet paintings and Googie-style lava lamps, he wasn’t initially sold on the home’s orange ceilings. But now he’s a fan. His only request? A hanging daybed and a Buddha statue overlooking the pool in the backyard.

Agle’s artworks tread between lighthearted joy and sincere nostalgia: Rat Packers spinning records and sipping martinis inside the John Lautner Compound in Desert Hot Springs; cocktail parties at Richard Neutra’s Kaufmann Desert House; and a family picnic outside the Eames House in Pacific Palisades. His latest piece, “The Mammoth Martini,” was inspired by his father, who was in a fraternity at UCLA. The painting hangs over the bar in the game room and is fully realized in the Shag House’s backyard.

“I’ve always been a fan of Shag’s art,” says McBurney, an e-commerce executive for supermarket chain Kroger who has been coming to Palm Springs for more than 20 years. Originally from the Pacific Northwest, he lives in the desert full-time and hopes to open his home for fundraising and charity events.

“How can I not share this house?” says McBurney, decked out in a Palm Springs-appropriate pink and green floral blazer by Mr. Turk. (McBurney describes the renovation as a “million-dollar” project, including what he spent and donations from sponsors Ferguson Bath, Kitchen & Lighting Gallery, JennAir and California Closets, among others.)

The backyard, with a pair of towering palm trees, is ready for Modernism Week parties.

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(Mariah Tauger / Los Angeles Times)

He adds, sounding a bit wistful: “I’m so blessed to be able to live here. This house is iconic. It’s a beautiful representation of Josh’s art.”

Agle admits he wasn’t a fan of Palm Springs when he first came to the desert enclave in the 1980s. “It was pretty boring,” he says. “But the architecture was amazing — even the commercial buildings. You could see what it once was. I started painting not what it used to be but what I hoped it would become. I was painting the lifestyle I wanted to live, the parties I wanted to be at and the houses I wanted to live in.”

Today, past and present collide at the Shag House, which is a testament to sunny midcentury Palm Springs and the postwar optimism of that time. In fact, it’s hard to feel sad while experiencing the Shag House, which is a little like viewing a holiday light display: You can’t help but smile when you see it and wish it would stay open all year.

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Like Palm Springs itself, the house has a casual vacation vibe. “I didn’t want to take the house too seriously,” Agle says as he walks by an Operation game-inspired artwork depicting a Hennessy Heart, Bacardi Brain and Ketel One Kidney.

Clad in a chartreuse sport coat, white pants and a vintage-inspired shirt made from a fluorescent print fabric, Agle says, “There is a strong alcohol theme throughout the house, which plays into my art as well.”

Tiki-themed artworks hang on the wall.

(Mariah Tauger / Los Angeles Times)

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Thor the dog, left, Seal Beach artist Josh Agle (a.k.a. Shag) and homeowner Brandon McBurney strike a poolside pose at the Shag House.

(Mariah Tauger / Los Angeles Times)

Agle doesn’t drink anymore — he drolly describes it as “career research” — but he still loves to paint alcohol-fueled party scenes. “It points to a mythical lifestyle that Palm Springs encapsulates,” Agle says. “People from L.A. and movie stars would come to Palm Springs and start drinking at noon, have drinks at the clubhouse, go out to Melvyn’s and have a couple more drinks. Because they weren’t working, they could live that lifestyle, if only for a weekend.”

Regarding the home’s colorful interiors, which feature a glossy orange and green kitchen, blue Case Study-style daybeds and an Eames lounge chair in a custom orange fabric, Agle wanted to fight neutral trends like cream-colored boucle. “Ten to 15 years ago, you’d walk into a Midcentury Modern shop in Palm Springs, and everything was turquoise and green,” he says. “The colors I chose for the house — mostly orange, green, and blue — are appropriate for Palm Springs.”

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The result is an upbeat and happy home that feels like you have somehow touched down in a surreal version of one of Agle’s paintings.

“It is no surprise that Shag is an icon in Palm Springs,” says Elizabeth Armstrong, an independent curator and former director of the Palm Springs Art Museum, in an email. While Modernism Week takes historic preservation seriously, Armstrong adds, “Shag has created a new kind of concept house. A Retro-Futurist known for his nostalgic take on all things Midcentury Modern, visitors can immerse in a totally seductive and surreal 3-D version of Shag’s take on Camp Modernism. It’s Shagalicious.”

Shag’s mural “The Mammoth Martini” hangs above the bar in the house, whose backyard was designed to look like the artwork’s pool scene.

(Mariah Tauger / Los Angeles Times)

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Colorful lights and a classic Shag mural set the scene in the dining room. The side yard hosts a ping-pong table. (Mariah Tauger / Los Angeles Times)

After two years of supply chain issues, labor disruptions and weather delays, the Shag House is finally ready to open its doors on Feb. 15. Representatives for Modernism Week estimate that more than 4,000 people will come through the house, in addition to it hosting special events and parties for more than 300 people. As Agle prepares for the unveiling, he hopes visitors will “have fun and don’t take it too seriously.”

True to their initial concept, the home is a timeless treasure from a forward-thinking team that worked to preserve its past.

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“We added square footage, but you can still recognize that it’s an Alexander house,” says project manager Flynn. “I found a woman whose grandparents owned the house from 1968 to 1992, and I invited her and her stepbrother to come see the house. She stood there with tears and said, ‘I recognize my grandparents’ house. I see the magic that you have created.’”

Homeowner Brandon McBurney, left, says he didn’t veto any of Josh Agle’s ideas when it came to transforming the dated Midcentury Modern home into a Shag artwork.

(Mariah Tauger / Los Angeles Times)

Shag House events during Modernism Week

The Shag House Signature Home Tour, Modernism Week 2024: Feb. 15-25. Ticket: $40.

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Poolside Fashion at the Shag House: The Style of Trina Turk: 11 a.m. Feb. 20. Ticket: $95.

Poolside Fashion at the Shag House: The History of the Caftan: 11 a.m. Feb. 21. Ticket: $125.

Swinging Mid Mod Cocktail Party: At the Shag House: 7 p.m. Feb. 21. Ticket: $250.

Poolside Fashion at the Shag House: The Style of Candice Held: 11 a.m. Feb. 22. Ticket: $95.

The Mammoth Martini Party at the Shag House: 8 p.m. Feb. 23. Ticket: $125.

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For tickets to these events and more information, visit modernismweek.com.

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Mundane, magic, maybe both — a new book explores ‘The Writer’s Room’

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Mundane, magic, maybe both — a new book explores ‘The Writer’s Room’

There’s a three-story house in Baltimore that looks a bit imposing. You walk up the stone steps before even getting up to the porch, and then you enter the door and you’re greeted with a glass case of literary awards. It’s The Clifton House, formerly home of Lucille Clifton.

The National Book Award-winning poet lived there with her husband, Fred, starting in 1967 until the bank foreclosed on the house in 1980. Clifton’s daughter, Sidney Clifton, has since revived the house and turned it into a cultural hub, hosting artists, readings, workshops and more. But even during a February visit, in the mid-afternoon with no organized events on, the house feels full.

The corner of Lucille Clifton's bedroom, where she would wake up and write in the mornings

The corner of Lucille Clifton’s bedroom, where she would wake up and write in the mornings

Andrew Limbong/NPR


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Andrew Limbong/NPR

“There’s a presence here,” Clifton House Executive Director Joël Díaz told me. “There’s a presence here that sits at attention.”

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Sometimes, rooms where famous writers worked can be places of ineffable magic. Other times, they can just be rooms.

The Writer’s Room: The Hidden Worlds That Shape the Books We Love

Princeton University Press

Katie da Cunha Lewin is the author of the new book, The Writer’s Room: The Hidden Worlds That Shape the Books We Love, which explores the appeal of these rooms. Lewin is a big Virginia Woolf fan, and the very first place Lewin visited working on the book was Monk’s House — Woolf’s summer home in Sussex, England. On the way there, there were dreams of seeing Woolf’s desk, of retracing Woolf’s steps and imagining what her creative process would feel like. It turned out to be a bit of a disappointment for Lewin — everything interesting was behind glass, she said. Still, in the book Lewin writes about how she took a picture of the room and saved it on her phone, going back to check it and re-check it, “in the hope it would allow me some of its magic.”

Let’s be real, writing is a little boring. Unlike a band on fire in the recording studio, or a painter possessed in their studio, the visual image of a writer sitting at a desk click-clacking away at a keyboard or scribbling on a piece of paper isn’t particularly exciting. And yet, the myth of the writer’s room continues to enrapture us. You can head to Massachusetts to see where Louisa May Alcott wrote Little Women. Or go down to Florida to visit the home of Zora Neale Hurston. Or book a stay at the Scott & Zelda Fitzgerald Museum in Alabama, where the famous couple lived for a time. But what, exactly, is the draw?

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Lewin said in an interview that whenever she was at a book event or an author reading, an audience question about the writer’s writing space came up. And yes, some of this is basic fan-driven curiosity. But also “it started to occur to me that it was a central mystery about writing, as if writing is a magic thing that just happens rather than actually labor,” she said.

In a lot of ways, the book is a debunking of the myths we’re presented about writers in their rooms. She writes about the types of writers who couldn’t lock themselves in an office for hours on end, and instead had to find moments in-between to work on their art. She covers the writers who make a big show of their rooms, as a way to seem more writerly. She writes about writers who have had their homes and rooms preserved, versus the ones whose rooms have been lost to time and new real estate developments. The central argument of the book is that there is no magic formula to writing — that there is no daily to-do list to follow, no just-right office chair to buy in order to become a writer. You just have to write.

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Bruce Johnston Retiring From The Beach Boys After 61 Years

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Bruce Johnston Retiring From The Beach Boys After 61 Years

Bruce Johnston
I’m Riding My Last Wave With The Beach Boys

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On the brink of death, a woman is saved by a stranger and his family

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On the brink of death, a woman is saved by a stranger and his family

In 1982, Jean Muenchrath was injured in a mountaineering accident and on the brink of death when a stranger and his family went out of their way to save her life.

Jean Muenchrath


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Jean Muenchrath

In early May 1982, Jean Muenchrath and her boyfriend set out on a mountaineering trip in the Sierra Nevada, a mountain range in California. They had done many backcountry trips in the area before, so the terrain was somewhat familiar to both of them. But after they reached one of the summits, a violent storm swept in. It began to snow heavily, and soon the pair was engulfed in a blizzard, with thunder and lightning reverberating around them.

“Getting struck and killed by lightning was a real possibility since we were the highest thing around for miles and lightning was striking all around us,” Muenchrath said.

To reach safer ground, they decided to abandon their plan of taking a trail back. Instead, using their ice axes, they climbed down the face of the mountain through steep and icy snow chutes.

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They were both skilled at this type of descent, but at one particularly difficult part of the route, Muenchrath slipped and tumbled over 100 feet down the rocky mountain face. She barely survived the fall and suffered life-threatening injuries.

This was before cellular or satellite phones, so calling for help wasn’t an option. The couple was forced to hike through deep snow back to the trailhead. Once they arrived, Muenchrath collapsed in the parking lot. It had been five days since she’d fallen.

 ”My clothes were bloody. I had multiple fractures in my spine and pelvis, a head injury and gangrene from a deep wound,” Muenchrath said.

Not long after they reached the trailhead parking lot, a car pulled in. A man was driving, with his wife in the passenger seat and their baby in the back. As soon as the man saw Muenchrath’s condition, he ran over to help.

 ”He gently stroked my head, and he held my face [and] reassured me by saying something like, ‘You’re going to be OK now. I’ll be right back to get you,’” Muenchrath remembered.

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For the first time in days, her panic began to lift.

“My unsung hero gave me hope that I’d reach a hospital and I’d survive. He took away my fears.”

Within a few minutes, the man had unpacked his car. His wife agreed to stay back in the parking lot with their baby in order to make room for Muenchrath, her boyfriend and their backpacks.

The man drove them to a nearby town so that the couple could get medical treatment.

“I remember looking into the eyes of my unsung hero as he carried me into the emergency room in Lone Pine, California. I was so weak, I couldn’t find the words to express the gratitude I felt in my heart.”

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The gratitude she felt that day only grew. Now, nearly 45 years later, she still thinks about the man and his family.

 ”He gave me the gift of allowing me to live my life and my dreams,” Muenchrath said.

At some point along the way, the man gave Muenchrath his contact information. But in the chaos of the day, she lost it and has never been able to find him.

 ”If I knew where my unsung hero was today, I would fly across the country to meet him again. I’d hug him, buy him a meal and tell him how much he continues to mean to me by saving my life. Wherever you are, I say thank you from the depths of my being.”

My Unsung Hero is also a podcast — new episodes are released every Tuesday. To share the story of your unsung hero with the Hidden Brain team, record a voice memo on your phone and send it to myunsunghero@hiddenbrain.org.

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