by Paul R. Spitzzeri
This weekend, the Homestead offered special tours as part of the California Preservation Foundation‘s Doors Open California program and we continued commemorating the centennial of La Casa Nueva, the remarkable Spanish Colonial Revival residence of the Temple family, built between 1922 and 1927, with the visits, including an opening slide presentation and artifacts displayed throughout the house, focusing on the many persons who worked on the adobe dwelling over its long course of construction.
The house is generally noted for its painted and stained glass and decorative tile, this latter including hand-made and hand-painted examples, usually with stunning colors and impressive designs, from México, while others, also colorful and intriguing in representation, were machine made in the United States. Stair risers, baseboards, fireplaces, insets and panels throughout the residence are resplendent with the Mexican tiles, though our documentation of where these come from are somewhat limited.

The Museum’s historic artifact collection has a quartet of documents from 1924 and 1925 to Walter P. Temple from Bernard A. Whalen, a Los Angeles merchant who styled himself as an “Importer of Spanish, Italian and Mexican Furniture, Wrought Iron, Tiles and Pottery,” offering old and new examples at retail and wholesale prices in a modest single-story brick building that still stands (and is a Spanish-language evangelical church) on Western Avenue south of Santa Monica Boulevard (also U.S. Route 66, which was established a century ago this year).
We assume that most, if not all, of the Mexican tiles installed in and around the house (meaning the Mission Walkway, which surrounds the structure on three sides) were purchased from Whalen’s establishment, including the three amazing panels created by Pedro Sánchez, a professional artist in Puebla, a historically significant tile manufacturing hub in México. Today’s event included sharing some information about Sánchez and Whelan in an introductory slide presentation, as well as displays in La Casa Nueva.

While we know relatively little about Whalen, we’re sharing what we do know here and add this to our store of knowledge, halting as it is, about the decorative treasures that make this dwelling such a special edifice and a centerpiece of the Homestead Museum. Whalen was born in 1862 in Pittsburgh to Irish immigrants and his father was a cooper and cart driver, while Bernard early on became a printer, owning a company in the steel town with a partner.
In 1889, however, he headed west and settled in Tacoma in the newly admitted state of Washington and took up work as a compositor, printer and typesetter for that city’s News. He apparently traveled from Pittsburgh with Margaret Cyril Ward, who also worked for the newspaper, and the couple married in late 1892. The Whalens continued residing in Tacoma until the excitement of the Klondike Gold Rush reached the port city about a half-dozen years later.

The couple headed for Skagway, on the Alaskan peninsula, and then to the mining boom town, now a ghost town, of Dyea, situated to the northwest, where Bernard worked for a brief time as local editor of the Dyea Trail. There was a quick return, though, to Skagway and, having been exposed to the Tlingit, the indigenous people, he began to collect cultural tribal artifacts, as well as to have copies made, for sale at Skagway’s first curio shop, located in a surviving structure on Broadway at 3rd Street in that town, which caters largely to tourists.
Notably, historical Tlingit material, including boxes, bowls, daggers, dishes, gambling pieces, spoons and more that Whalen collected and offered in his store are now in the collection of the National Museum of the American Indian in Washington, D.C. A National Parks Service document stated that Whalen operated the store during the warmer spring and summer months, while heading to Los Angeles during the cold fall and winter periods.

It appears that the Whalen spent some time in Orange County from about 1906 before settling in Los Angeles by the end of that first decade of the 20th century. The 1910 federal census records him, Margaret and two surviving of four children (though a son died a few years later, leaving a daughter, Bernardine) in the Bunker Hill section of the Angel City where Bernard ran a book store.
Within a few years, however, he obtained a license to sell second-hand goods and then advertised for stamp collections for his B.A. Whalen Stamp and Coin Company. He also acquired real estate, including 10 acres in Hollywood near Sunset and Hollywood boulevards and Vermont Avenue, which he advertised in 1916 for film producers as the movie industry was burgeoning.

Whalen, however, also dealt in large expanses of land in the Sinaloa state of México, advertising in a San Francisco newspaper for 9,000 acres with livestock, a main house, store, workers’ quarters and fruit orchards, which he offered for $2 an acre. This may be how he developed his interest in Mexican curios, furniture and tiles but, in mid-November 1918, four days after the end of the First World War, when he applied for a passport, he listed his occupation as a merchant and he submitted an affidavit on the letterhead of his business, which was as a “Dealer in Antique Furniture, Old China, Coppers, Brasses, Laces, Brocades, Embroideries, Paintings, Engravings, Etchings, Etc.,” he wrote, with interesting references to a new industry and competitors:
The object of my projected trip to Mexico is to make a thorough investigation of the shrimp industry of the west coast of that country, with the direct aim of importing the dried product, if found to be feasible from a business standpoint. My field of investigation would be the coast in the vicinity of Mazatlan . . . I have spent considerable time and money investigating market conditions in this country, and now desire to as carefully investigate the producing end. Investigations made by me during four months spent in San Francisco indicated a purpose on the part of Japanese companies to operate in the same field as is enga[g]ing my attention, and I have a feeling that delay may result in advantage to them in case they decide to go ahead.
Whalen went on to aver that he spent several years on his plan and the time was ripe for action, provided he could get approval for his passport during a period of tension and conflict between the United States and forces in México, including the revolutionary movement of Pancho Villa. He asserted that he would behave with the propriety expected of an American, while offering that his request was “a matter of one humble American citizen asking the state department for a privilege he honest thinks he is entitled to and which, if granted, he would be as loath to abuse as the department would be to have him do so.”

A notarized statement affirmed that Whalen was prepared to engage in the handling of nitrate of lime, or calcium nitrate, for fertilizers, as well as in the shrimp industry, but the entry of the U.S. into the war in spring 1917 “unsettled conditions” so that his plans “became impracticable.” Facing the loss of $2,500 in this effort, the affiant, with the environment improving, sought approval to continue work on his enterprise.
The application was approved in mid-January 1919 and Whalen not only made the trip south to México, but stated that he resided in that country for a period after that date when he filed another passport request in mid-September 1920. In this case, he signified that he was traveling to our neighboring nation, but also to portions of Central and South America for the purpose of “Commercial investigation.” More significantly, the application noted that Whalen left the U.S. in early July and that he was living in the Mexican metropolis of Puebla “for the purpose of Commercial investigation on behalf of myself.”

Why this is of interest for the Homestead is that Puebla, the fourth largest city in México with nearly 3.5 million residents and founded in 1531, became the tile manufacturing center of the country due to its remarkable clay deriving its qualities from adjacent volcanoes. Talavera pottery from Puebla, including tile, generally includes vibrant colors from glazing and designs that often draw from the mestizo (mixed indigenous and Spanish people) in its imagery.
Undoubtedly, it was at this time a few years before La Casa Nueva was constructed that Whalen discovered the work of Pedro Sánchez, who worked for the firm of Martínez y Compañia and whose work can be found in many areas of greater Los Angeles from Arcadia to Beverly Hills and Palm Springs to Placentia at, in the order of these four cities, the Arboretum of Los Angeles County, the home of famed Latina actor Dolores del Río, a desert hotel and a public library that is now a senior center. These, however, are just examples of where this artist’s remarkable work can be found today.

The Museum has a few artifacts relating to Whalen’s supplying tiles for La Casa Nueva and it seems very likely that the dealer also supplied this and other material for architect Roy Seldon Price for the Beverly Hills mansion of film studio owner and director Thomas Ince—that project drew the attention of the Temples as they chose Price to complete their residence, though with substantial changes and revisions that, as they joked, abundantly reflected the surname of their new architect.
A receipt dated 1 November 1924 records the sale to Walter P. Temple of majolica tableware, door buttons, a candlestick, a coat of arms, and five tile panels for La Casa Nueva. These latter would include those created by Sánchez, who usually signed his work and included a guild mark to attest to his professional status.

At the beginning of the next year, a new invoice was created that included the aforementioned items, but added a tile panel and 190 individual tiles, with this latter unclear as to origin, not to mention patterns or other identifying features. There are hundreds of these amazing decorative pieces as baseboards, wainscoting, on stair risers and insets throughout the residence, making tile, along with painted and stained glass, key elements of the architectural wonder that La Casa Nueva remains a century after its construction.
On 2 February 1925, on his letterhead, Whalen wrote to the “Temple Estate / Puente, Cal.,” with the information that there was a balance due of $226 and “in this balance is included tiles to the number of 190 at 50 cents each.” A half-dollar may not sound like much to us now, but a post from this blog discussing retail gas prices in March 1925 of that year is an apt comparison point. The dealer, however, continued:
These tiles are laid aside in my warehouse for you. They have been there for several months. If you do not desire these tiles, will you kindly let me know at once. I shall deem it a favor. It is just too much money tied up for me, as I have sale for them. If not wanted by you, please deduct their cost from [the] statement, which will leave the amount due 131.00, payment of which will clean off the slate.
We don’t know what Temple’s response was, but, he obviously was more than interested in Whalen’s tile inventory because a statement of 1 October shows that, on 11 April, 75 tiles at that 50-cent price were acquired, followed a week later by a hefty 1,654 pieces, more than 500 at that price, another 108 at 75 cents each and north of a thousand at $3.00 per dozen.

It is likely that the latter were plain tiles, though what distinguished the other two varieties, other than, perhaps, size, is unclear. There were also “9 Mexican Baskets” purchased at a half a dollar each, bringing the total of the invoice to $638.50. This sum can be contrasted with the cost of a 1925 Ford Model T Runabout, which cost $260 (Temple, though, owned several higher-end cars, including a Cadillac, Packard and Locomobile!).
What stands out, as well, about this invoice is that it was issued a half-year after those substantial tile purchases and we can only imagine Whalen’s concern and consternation at the lengthy delay in payment—moreover, we don’t know how this transaction was consummated. In fact, it was just a few months later that Temple decided with his business partners Milton Kauffman, his manager, George Woodruff, his lawyer, and Sylvester Dupuy, involved with the Town of Temple (Temple City) subdivision, to issue bonds for the continued development of his namesake community and the construction of the Edison Building in Alhambra.

This, in turn, was a reflection of a growing problem of income and expenses, as Temple relied heavily on oil production from wells at his Montebello field lease, though this drastically declined from about the time La Casa Nueva was begun because the field had generally shallow wells. His independent Walter P. Temple Oil Company, while occasionally successful with producing wells, and his Temple Estate Company, which completed a flurry of commercial structures in Alhambra, El Monte, Los Angeles and San Gabriel, plowed enormous sums into highly speculative ventures.
Then there was the personal spending, whether private school tuition for his four children, the fancy automobiles, expensive vacations (in summer 1926, the family went to Massachusetts, the home state of Walter’s father, to enroll the three Temple sons in schools there—and they shipped their car and took their chauffeur with them) and generous loans to friends and family, among others. None of this is necessarily surprising, as in boom times with expectations that the good times would continued unabated, consumer spending is usually extravagant.

On top of this was the accelerating cost (and construction timeline) of La Casa Nueva, which Walter P. Temple, Jr. much later recalled costing about $150,000 (some sources state that the average price of a new American home at the time was between $5,000 and $10,000—while a paper on the 1920s housing boom noted that 1925 was the peak year after which there was a decline that was significantly worsened by the ensuing Great Depression.)
Walter Temple took out a loan from California Bank apparently to, at least in part, complete construction of La Casa Nueva and this was due the week in October 1929 when the stock market crashed that ushered in the Depression. While the house was completed about two years prior, even as furniture was to be purchased and landscaping continued, the Temples only resided in the fully finished dwelling for about two-and-a-half years.

In spring 1930, in a desperate measure to save the Homestead, Walter moved to Ensenada in Baja California, México and leased part of the 92-acre ranch to a military academy, though the worsening economic environment meant fewer families sent their children to private schools. Two years later, a bank foreclosure was consummated and the property, including La Casa Nueva, lost by the Temples.
Yet, despite this, the family left us an amazing house, filled with incredible decorative details, like the tiles by Sánchez and others sold by Whalen (who moved his shop to the newly opened Olvera Street in the early 1930s and who died in 1942, after which the business, run by his widow, relocated to Pasadena where it existed for until the early Fifties), and which is a rich laboratory for exploring the building, the Temples and life in greater Los Angeles during the Roaring Twenties. The Doors Open program is an opportunity to provide an even finer focus on La Casa Nueva during this half-decade-long centennial commemoration!