Perhaps the most underrated skill that local architectural historian and preservationist Peter Moruzzi uses to create awareness for fading or lost cultural assets is his command of infinite archives and endless eBay listings in search of vintage ephemera. With the dog-eared documents, raggedy blueprints, and Technicolor photographs that the founding president of the Palm Springs Modern Committee unearths from such colossal caches, he composes compelling chronicles about threatened architecture for historic assessments, Class 1 status nominations, and nostalgic tomes.
“I want to ensure that our architectural heritage remains for generations to experience and enjoy,” says Moruzzi, who had his first indelible taste of preservation at age 13, when he marched in a picket line to safeguard the Hawaii Theatre, built in 1922, in Honolulu, where the Massachusetts native spent his teenage years.
Peter Moruzzi’s new book Palm Springs Tiki, with cover art by Shag.
Between triumphs of architectural advocacy — including a state-landmark classification for Bob’s Big Boy in Burbank, National Register inclusions for Case Study Houses, and a Class 1 Historic Site designation for Albert Frey’s iconic Tramway Gas Station — Moruzzi produces retro pictorials to spread the gospel of built environments on the brink.
“If people become cognizant of preservation because of what they’ve seen and learned from my books, wonderful!” the author says of his five (and counting) series based on his extensive collection of midcentury memorabilia. Some of his 20,000 postcards have featured into titles like Palm Springs Holiday and Greetings From Las Vegas. “Because many of the buildings still exist, I hope that readers will be motivated to support preservation.”
Gibbs Smith published Moruzzi’s latest book, Palm Springs Tiki, in October. Co-authored with genre expert Sven Kirsten, the 200-page volume explores the post-WWII emergence of Polynesian pop in the Coachella Valley through lighthearted narration and scads of his own vintage ephemera such as Tiki torch-emblazoned menus and matchbooks embossed with hula dancers.
“Tiki culture fit right in with our palm trees and hot weather,” says Moruzzi, who once improvised a fully thatched Tiki bar in his former home in Silver Lake, Los Angeles, where he was chairperson of the L.A. Conservancy’s Modern Committee in the 1990s. At home in Palm Springs, Moruzzi’s commitment to the aesthetic has dwindled to a set of grog mugs.
To toast his new book, Palm Springs Tiki Moruzzi and husband Lauren LeBaron may enjoy a tropical drink from one of their Tiki mugs.
“There’s really no way to minimize the importance of tropical drinks in Tiki culture,” he says of the potent rum-based potables. But for all of Tiki’s high-entertainment quotient, Moruzzi is more serious when he adds a footnote regarding the island spirit that once swept the area: What festively manifested was only as authentic as American interpretations of Polynesian cultures could be. A subtle, but significant, observation befitting a seasoned historian.
“Tiki does not involve cultural appropriation. It’s meant to be fun and wacky,” explains Moruzzi, landing his version of a tropical punch.
