Bold Lines and Nude Sunbaths

Former insurance worker Morris Saperstein moved to Los Angeles in the early 1920s and found that, as a Jewish newcomer, doors to jobs and institutions were closed to him.

But he also had a chiropractic degree and was fascinated by health fads inspired by vegetarian bodybuilder Bernarr Macfadden, creator of Physical Culture magazine. According to lore, he spotted the Anglo surname Lovell on a billboard in Los Angeles. So he changed his name to Philip M. Lovell, opened a Downtown LA office in 1923, and rebranded himself as a “drugless practitioner.” Auspiciously, one of his first patients was Los Angeles Times publisher Harry Chandler.

Lovell’s success as a naturopathic doctor and, later, as the author of several books and the popular Los Angeles Times column “Care of the Body,” sparked his desire for a home that would embody his health and hygiene ideals. That vision was realized by architect Richard Neutra, and their collaboration is detailed in a new book by Getty Publications, Richard Neutra and the Making of the Lovell Health House, 1925–35.

“Building on Thomas Hines’ seminal work Neutra and the Search for Modern Architecture (1982, 1st edition), this publication examines the genesis of the Lovell House project through the lens of Richard Neutra’s formative experiences while working in Berlin,” says Maristella Casciato, senior curator of architecture at the Getty Research Institute. “Covering the period from 1925–32, the book traces Neutra’s arrival in Los Angeles, the publication of his influential work Wie Baut Amerika? (How Does America Build?), and his pivotal meeting with clients Philip and Leah Lovell. The narrative follows the evolution of Neutra’s vision from initial inspiration through construction and the building’s immediate cultural impact. The Lovell House launched Neutra’s international reputation and established him as a pioneer of modern residential architecture and construction methods.”

A vision comes to life

A few years before working with Neutra, Lovell had hired Rudolph Schindler to design family homes for Lovell, his wife, and their three sons. Schindler built them a house in Newport Beach (which still exists), a cabin in Wrightwood (that collapsed after a heavy snow), and a desert retreat (which later burned down). Lovell also purchased a hillside property in Los Feliz and ordered plans for a residence from Schindler. But after Schindler and Lovell’s wife, Leah, had an affair, Lovell turned to another architect, Neutra, who took over Schindler’s commission.

Neutra, guided by Lovell’s naturopathic mission, designed a “house for health.” In his Times column Lovell had extolled the value of daily nude sunbathing for anemia, tuberculosis, and mental health, and Neutra responded by offering multiple outdoor sleeping porches for, as Lovell noted, “plenty of opportunities throughout the house for nude sun baths privately taken for each member.” UV-permeable glass extended the sun’s rays indoors, and a chemical-free pool, drained biweekly, was added for laps and, you guessed it, more sunning.

The Lovells would stay married, and Leah, a learn-by-doing educator, advocated for an on-site, open-air kindergarten to carry out her progressive pedagogical ideas. The school, overseen by Leah and caring for up to 15 children at a time, included areas for carpentry and clay work and courts for basketball and handball. Kids also staged theatrical plays and exercised on the tennis courts and in the gymnastic areas.

Two spaces where cleanliness and hygiene could be considered most pertinent were especially well equipped. The antimicrobial-minded kitchen contained an ant-proof food cooler, and dishwashing involved aromatic oil. The bathrooms, meanwhile, included a therapy room holding a sweat cabinet and therapy and quartz lights, a sitz bath, and a built-in enema feature.

Hygiene-focused materials also linked environment and well-being. All the walls in the house were flat; free of moldings, which could catch dirt and dust; and covered in washable fabric. The cabinetry was built with piano-lacquered eucalyptus (considered moisture and insect repellent), and the floors were rubber (natural rubber is derived from rubber tree sap and is generally considered nontoxic).

Wellness 1.0

Lovell and Neutra’s then-radical ideas mirror some of today’s architectural approaches that center on physical and mental health—or, its buzzier cousin, wellness. Designers still talk about promoting sunlight while also creating serene, uncluttered interiors that might help relieve mental strain. Plus the indoor/outdoor-focused floor plan is alive and well, consumers look for lead-free paint, and buildings meeting stringent criteria for sustainability and health can be certified LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design) or WELL (evaluating seven qualities: air, water, nourishment, light, fitness, comfort, and mind).

In-home wellness spaces, sometimes called chill-out rooms or zen dens, are also trending, encouraging people to create in-home gyms, saunas, or steam rooms akin to the offerings of a high-end gym. Extra space in the backyard? Add a cold plunge!

Sometimes these ideas fold into a term called neuroarchitecture, where human behavior, emotions, and cognitive processes are studied in relation to the built environment. And in biophilic design, natural materials, green spaces, and plants are utilized to improve well-being. At Lovell Health House, flowers with near-permanent blossoms were planted; they spilled from balcony containers and covered pergolas. Considering the then and now, the home stands as a historical testament of shaping architecture to enhance human health.

Did the Health House work?

You may be wondering if Lovell was right, and if his home cradled him in health and peace for an extremely long life. He died at the age of 83, after a few years of common events suggesting a decline in health: his driver’s license was taken away, he was moved into assisted living, and his great-nephew Gary Marmorstein, who remembers visiting Lovell about a year before he died, suggested that he had undiagnosed Alzheimer’s disease (likely because he “had shunned his ‘medical brethren.’”) Marmorstein also noted that Lovell’s siblings outlived him by more than 10 years—while avoiding their brother’s cherished sunrays and health food.

But Marmorstein also wrote of another fascinating encounter with Lovell that suggests there was merit to his practices. When Marmorstein was 9 years old, a sports injury landed him in the office of an oncologist who offered two potential diagnoses. Each had a five-year cure rate of 1 percent. Worse, unless the boy’s leg was amputated, he was expected to live for only a few weeks. Marmorstein’s mother sent him to his great-uncle Phil in California, who diagnosed a nonfatal blood clot instead. His prescription: nude sunbaths, a TV ban, green juice, and bicycle riding. Marmorstein recovered fully a short time later and is still alive, working as a writer and author in New Jersey.