Right: Old Carmel cottages built of simple local materials stand unobtrusively among native trees.

Lower left and right: New houses reflect trends seen almost anywhere in wealthy California towns.

CARMEL IS LOSING ITS ARCHITECTURAL heritage to the booming economy. Big luxurious houses are replacing more and more of the old cottages in this village in a forest by the sea. Unheard-of prices—up to $500,000 for the typical 40-by-100-foot lot, even without an ocean view—are prompting homeowners to sell to developers and individual buyers who want the lots, not the cottages.

“What’s being built now are trophy houses—houses that seek to maximize the space available and are designed to be architecturally showy, rather than designed not to be seen, as the typical Carmel houses have been,” said James S. Holliday, an author and former director of the California Historical Society.

Many of the buyers are newly affluent people from Silicon Valley, said Enid Thompson Sales, founder of the Carmel Preservation Society, who is waging a passionate battle against the demolitions. “They come here because of the charm, then they destroy the charm and build something that’s just like what they came from.”

Although many Carmelites are alarmed, the City Council has been unable thus far to agree on a way to protect its heritage—in contrast to neighboring Pacific Grove, which has put half its single-family homes under a preservation ordinance. (CLICK HERE FOR MORE ON PACIFIC GROVE). Property owners in Carmel can ask for a historic listing, but few have done so.

Some residents say the cottages have outlived their time. “I’ve been in some of these single-walled, termite-infested houses,” said Sharon Lawrence, screenwriter and author, who grew up “between L. A. and Carmel.”

“But those cottages were built by exceptional builders as the Arts and Crafts movement was at its height,” counters Sales, who directed the City-sponsored Carmel Architectural and Historical Survey, completed in 1996. “It’s shocking that there is so little recognition” of Carmel’s important place in that movement.

There are about 3,000 houses in this one-square-mile village. The Survey reviewed 2,000 built between 1900 and 1940 and found that 399 were significant or notable. It identified four historic districts as worthy of preservation. The City now uses it to guide decisions about demolition permits, said Brian Roseth, the City’s principal planner. No program has been established so far to preserve historic districts or houses identified by the Survey.

In the past 20 years, about 240 houses have been demolished. Roseth has no precise figures, but estimates the annual numbers as 12 to 18. Demolition permit applications have increased in recent years, and again this year. Roseth does not recall any denials.

The California Coastal Act requires that the special character of communities be protected, but it gives no further guidance, so the Coastal Commission relies on local communities to define their “special character.”

Carmel has been unique from its beginning. Frank Devenport, who established the village in 1902 with Frank Powers, appreciated nature and valued poetry above business and profit. He “was perhaps the first in the West to create a community that from its inception respected and enhanced the natural setting,” Harold and Ann Gilliam wrote in their book Creating Carmel: the Enduring Vision. While other developers were cutting down trees and filling valleys, he routed streets around trees and along the natural contours of the land. He encouraged tree planting on both public and private property, so that the village grew under a canopy of native oak, cypress, and pine.

Devenport’s first sales brochure, in 1903, was addressed “to the School Teachers of California and other Brain Workers at Indoor Employment.” He sent an emissary to San Francisco to seek out poets, writers, and painters. Carmel became the home of a Bohemian crowd that included, at various times, poets Robinson Jeffers and George Sterling, writers Mary Austin, Jack London, Upton Sinclair, and Sinclair Lewis, and the photographer Arnold Genthe, whose images of early Chinatown and the San Francisco earthquake are now classics. Professors came from Stanford University and the University of California, attracted by the place and the creative community.

The early homes are small batten-and-board or stone cottages, with fences of rough, unpainted wood and wrought iron. The Arts and Crafts movement was a reaction to the Industrial Revolution. It encouraged simple living in nature, crafts, and the use of natural materials. Carmel has carefully maintained its village-like characteristics, states the Final Report of the Historical Resources Survey, published by the Carmel Preservation Foundation in 1996. “For example, there are no house numbers, residential sidewalks, parking meters, street lights, or traffic signals. Houses are small and blend into the surroundings. Gardens are informal, making use of natural vegetation. Trees are greatly revered and given precedence over building expansion and the movement of traffic.”

This was primarily a second-home village from its beginning, but residents used to stay for weeks or months at a time, joining in community events. In 1910 the outdoor Forest Theater was built, and nearly half the population took part in plays, many of them locally written.

Most of today’s newcomers “don’t socialize, because they are here just weekends, or maybe a weekend a month,” said City Councilmember Barbara Livingston. “They don’t have a clue about the community.” About 60 percent of the houses have absentee owners, and many stand empty most of the time. “For blocks and blocks there may be only one house with lights on at night. It’s sad for the older people, being surrounded by darkness,” she said.

What troubles some Carmelites most is the loss of their treasured trees. Trees don’t fare well when cottages are replaced by larger buildings. Some are cut down, others die because their roots are cut or compacted. The City requires that new trees be planted, but these are often neglected. Gradually, Carmel’s urban forest is turning into a “ringed forest, with bigger native trees on public property, and smaller ornamental trees on private property,” City Forester Gary Kelly said. Development is not the only threat. About 90 percent of some 4,000 Monterey pines on public land are afflicted by pitch canker.

Towards that end, the City has launched the Design Traditions Project, a community-wide initiative “to look at what has made Carmel Carmel, and once we’ve done that, how to keep Carmel Carmel,” said E. Pope Coleman, who heads the effort. “What has emerged is a remarkable consensus. More important than architecture are the narrow, tree-lined streets; and, within the urban forest, of maintaining a variety of houses designed to fit their specific sites.” The Project expects to have a report and action plan for the community to discuss this autumn.

Meanwhile, preservationists are fighting demolitions house-by-house. In May 1999, Monterey County Superior Court Judge Robert O’Farrell upheld a City decision to allow demolition of a 1924 Craftsman-style house purchased by Ron and Alexis Donati. Enid Sales and Friends of Carmel Cultural Heritage had sued the City, charging that it had engaged in “an unlawful pattern” in allowing demolition of historic homes without requiring Environmental Impact Reports, a trend that would have a “cumulative impact” on Carmel’s environment. They lost, but took heart in the judge’s comment that the demolition of older homes “is an issue the City would be wise to evaluate.”

Because Carmel has not completed a Local Coastal Plan, the Donatis needed a permit from the Coastal Commission. In July the Commission approved the Donatis’ plan, but required a 90-day waiting period to provide an opportunity for possibly relocating the old house. The Donatis, who live in Los Gatos, have owned another house in Carmel for 10 years. Ron Donati said he recently sold an electronics company and intends to retire in the home that will be built. Before closing escrow on this property in June 1997, he said, he went to the City Planning and Building Department to make sure that the house wasn’t historic. His opponents, he said, are a neighbor with a complaint about his view, and “a pretty small, vocal group that wants nothing to change.”

“People who go to Carmel go for the beach, golf courses, and the weather,” Donati said. “Change happens all the time in this world. We will win, we will tear the house down, and we will build what we want.”

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