John Lautner designed enough extraordinary homes—from the Sheats-Goldstein residence, best known as the home of porn magnate Jackie Treehorn in The Big Lebowski, to the UFO-like Chemosphere—to know a gem when he saw one. At a reception in 1984, the legendary architect wandered through the Brentwood home that Martin Gelber had designed for himself before seeking out its creator. “Young man, did you design this house?” he asked. “This is a fine house.”
More than four decades later, that quietly celebrated abode—tucked into Los Angeles’s architecturally significant Crestwood Hills neighborhood—is looking for its second owner. Listed for $3.75 million after an exacting restoration, the 3,700-square-foot residence stands as both a remarkably intact example of Southern California Late Modernism and the purest expression of Gelber’s belief that “architecture should enrich the joy and drama of living.”
Born in North Hollywood, Gelber was told by a high school drafting teacher that his dyslexia meant he would never become an architect. Refusing to accept that verdict, he made an appointment with the dean of USC’s architecture school, arrived with his portfolio in hand, and left admitted. According to his wife Michela, he celebrated by kissing the ground beneath the university’s Tommy Trojan statue. “He was meant to be an architect,” Michela says.
Gelber studied under the school’s then-dean, the renowned modernist A. Quincy Jones, later working in his office, and forged relationships with Richard Neutra and Gregory Ain. Though he never became a household name, Gelber earned deep respect within Los Angeles architectural circles. He taught at Los Angeles Pierce College for 45 years, championed historic preservation, and served as president of the LA chapter of the American Institute of Architects.
The house he completed in 1978 became his architectural manifesto. Perched on a steep hillside, it was conceived around passive solar principles years before sustainability became a watchword. Deep exterior fins temper the western sun, skylights exhaust warm air, and the home’s orientation captures breezes reducing the need for air conditioning. The home was the first in California to receive a federal energy tax credit for its pioneering passive solar design.
Yet its sustainable design strategies never overwhelmed the experience of living there. Drawing on Frank Lloyd Wright’s concept of “compression and release,” Gelber alternates between intimate, compressed spaces and soaring volumes before revealing dramatic views of the Pacific. Rather than putting the ocean on full display in every room, he believed it should be discovered. “You had to work to see the view,” Michela says. Step outside onto the wraparound decks, though, and the vistas are unlimited—with the surf on one side and a wild canyon on the other.
The Crestwood Hills house was designed for work and pleasure. By day, Michela, a psychiatrist, met with patients in her home office, while Martin maintained his studio under the same roof. In the evening, they often welcomed guests to the house, where furniture by Charles and Ray Eames, Marcel Breuer, and Mies van der Rohe mixed with contemporary art, Persian rugs, and Gelber’s own designs
for millwork. The house became a gathering place for students, architects, artists, and preservationists. “We hosted up to 200 people at our parties but because of the decks and the way the house was designed, it never felt really crowded,” Michela says.
The home’s history almost ended in 2019, when the Getty Fire swept through the canyon. Although it survived, it sustained extensive smoke and fire damage just as Gelber, gravely ill, entered the final weeks of his life. Michela restored every detail, from the clear redwood interiors to the decks, returning the house to its original appearance. But after living there for four decades, she decided she could not move back. “There are too many memories,” she says.
Michela hopes the next steward of the house will appreciate not just the architectural pedigree but the ideas behind it. “Martin believed that you could build a house that was functional and ecological,” she says, “but also very beautiful.”
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