By Eric White
It all started with an article in the New York Times. Check it out: MoMA Built a House. Then It Disappeared. Now It’s Found (May 27, 2021, by Eve M. Kahn). It piqued my interest. It’s about how the the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) commissioned an architect named Gregory Ain in 1950 to design and build an exhibition house to be displayed in the museum garden. The house was subsequently dismantled, then stored, then seemingly lost, and finally discovered intact in Croton-on-Hudson in 2021. While I knew the names of many architects (for example, Frank Lloyd Wright, I.M. Pei, Mies van der Rohe), Gregory Ain was unfamiliar to me.
So now I’m off to Wikipedia to see if Gregory Ain, the architect, merits a write up. Yes, he is there. And here is where it gets even more interesting. First, Ain was born in Pittsburgh, PA in 1908. According to the Wikipedia article, he was “Dean of the Pennsylvania State University School of Architecture” from 1963-1967. After his stint in Pennsylvania, he returned to California and died in 1988.
And then I noticed the last entry—1967 Ginoza, House, State College, Pennsylvania—on a list of houses Ain built, along with other residential projects he was involved in.
It turns out that Gregory Ain was commissioned to design and build only two houses outside of California (one for the MoMA in New York City and the other for William Ginoza in State College, Pennsylvania).
As a member of the Editorial Board of Hearts in the Highlands, I immediately thought: Wouldn’t it be great if, in some way, the Highlands could be associated with such a unique story.
Thus began my search to find a connection to the Highlands. I started with Gregory Ain. Special Collections at the Penn State Pattee Paterno Library maintains files on many persons who have been associated with the University. I requested the file for Gregory Ain. There wasn’t much in it. Just a few newspaper clippings, University press releases, and an announcement of an exhibit at the Hetzel Union Building featuring works by Ain.
I did confirm something that I already knew: Ain was not the Dean of the School of Architecture (Wikipedia has it wrong!), but rather was named the head of the Department of Architecture when it was moved from the College of Engineering to the newly formed College of Arts and Architecture. Ain replaced an interim department head Philip Hallock, who lived and practiced in the Highlands. More on him later.
I was hoping that some document would include a Highland street address. No luck. I asked to see State College telephone books for the years that Ain was in State College. No luck there; he lived on Homan Avenue. Interestingly, there was no information as to why Ain was chosen to head up this new department. He was certainly not a traditional or safe choice, rather a “radical” architect investigated by the California version of the House Un-Amercian Activities Committee coming (or fleeing) to central Pennsylvania in the mid 1960s.
On to William Ginoza. Just who was he? His obituary says he lived to 104, passing away in 2018. He came to State College, invited to be one of the first faculty members in the newly created Department of Biophysics. He retired in 1979 as an emeritus professor of Microbiology. The files in Special Collections provided no evidence of where he lived. The telephone books placed him in Park Forest outside the Borough of State College.
In 1967, the Ginozas contracted with Gregory Ain to design and build them a house. Mrs. Midori Ginoza knew of Ain’s reputation in California and wanted a house with a mid-century modern style. At first, Ain rejected their request, but finally agreed. He left State College before the house was finished, but left an associate in charge of finishing the project.
My last option to make a Highlands connection was to locate the house that Ain built for the Ginoza’s. That turned out to be relatively easy: East McCormick Avenue—a State College road primarily running east-west through the Highlands. But when I saw the actual address in the 900 block, and checked a street map of State College, it turned out the 900 block is on the east side of University Drive, outside the Highland borders, and in the Vallamont neighborhood of State College. Strike three for me.
At this point, I reluctantly gave up my search for a Highlands connection. I had three chances, as I saw it, and none panned out. Time to move on.
For some unknown reason to me, the details of this story lingered in my conscious: A California architect with a rather noteworthy background becomes the department head of a newly formed department in a new college at Penn State. Toward the end of his time at Penn State he reluctantly takes on his last commission—one of only two outside of California, the other house being a specially commissioned piece for the Museum of Modern Art in New York City, which because of its history (disappearance and years later a resurfacing) has warranted a story in the New York Times.
In one of the Special Collection documents about the Ginoza house on East McCormick Avenue, there is an explanation of why Ain finally took on this commission. Apparently, Ain felt under stress as the department head (although the nature of the stress was not explained). One can imagine though the stress that goes with heading up a department in a newly created college. Ironically for Ain, the one way to deal with his stress was to actually practice architecture. This might explain why he ultimately took on what would be his last commission.
All of this, of course, just makes the story even more compelling.
Despite my having gone down three rabbit holes and never finding any rabbits, I stumbled—I think quite by accident—on an article about Phillip Hallock. Heart in the Highlands has already published two articles about Mr. Hallock (Hallock’s Highland Homes: A Lasting Architectural Legacy, January 3, 2019 and A Man and His Work: Philip F. Hallock, May 27, 2021). He, indeed, is someone that Highlanders can embrace as one of our own: he both worked and lived in the Highlands, designing and building his own home on West Prospect Avenue. His home has become both a Highlands landmark as well as a State College one. Go see it some day, if you have not. It’s on the corner of West Prospect and South Fraser. You can’t miss it; it’s purple!
This article claimed that although Mr. Hallock did not design any homes in the Vallamont neighborhood of State College, he was very supportive of its development and especially in the construction of what we now call mid-century modern (the oeuvre in which Mr Hallock worked as well). In fact, he was so supportive that the developer of that neighborhood used the name of Hallock’s older son Val as part of the identification of the newly developed neighborhood.
Now I had my Highlands connection. Would it not have been for Philip Hallock and his support, the mid-century modern neighborhood of Vallamont might not have been developed or carried his son’s name.
Alas, in my excitement, I made one fatal error. I did not write down where I saw these comments and simply cannot not recall where I read this. Was it in an article about Vallamont in general? Was it in a article about Philip Hallock? Was it in some document about how the neighborhoods in State College were formed? Or did I just have a dream one night?
I started to Google it, but got no confirmation. In fact, what I got was that Vallamont is simply French for both valley and mountain and represents the location of Vallamont, tucked in a valley within the sight of Mount Nittany.
This was confirmed on a number of Internet sites. I even emailed a few people I viewed as experts who might shed some light on the Hallock connection. No luck again.
I turn now to our readers. Is there anyone who can shed some more light on a possible connection between the Highlands and the Ain/Ginoza house on East McCormick?
This would have been our story if only Ain or the Ginozas lived in the Highlands or the house built for the Ginozas was in the Highlands or if Hallock’s son’s name is really the source of the Val in Vallamont. But even if it turns out not to be our story, I believe it is a story worth telling. It is a one-of-a-kind tale, set in State College, part of our history, Penn State’s history, architectural history in California and hopefully not to be lost in some obscure library file or hidden in a pile up of documents on the Internet.
So if anyone has something to share, you can email me at erw2@psu.edu. There may come a time hopefully when we can add to this story and perhaps make that Highlands connection.
Eric White is a member of the Hearts in the Highlands Editorial Board.