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The environs of Palm Springs, California, can cause architects to abandon structural rigor in favor of insouciant fantasy- picture the buxom assassins Bambi and Thumper pouncing on James Bond in Diamonds Are Forever, under a daisy-wheel John Lautner dome. Now drive half an hour north to the wind-whipped high desert of Joshua Tree, and the fantasy becomes an acid trip. Imagine a golden house, both sharply angular and wildly ornamented, and what you've got is Acido Dorado. Built by Robert Stone, a desert native, it’s swankily modern yet suggestively operatic, with 900 gold-painted iron roses, 1,200 mirrored tiles, and a concrete screen with a heart-shape cutout. Mad Men, meet the Ring des Nibelungen.
"Architects see composition and space. Designers see surfaces and textures. I see all of that and more, like cultural connections such as roadside death shrines made out of flowers and Mercedes-Benz parts," Stone adds. And business opportunities. Acido Dorado is Robert Stone Design's second Joshua Tree house for Stone's own vacation-rentaI initiative, Pretty Vacant Properties. Each house begins with its name. Rosa Muerta, his first one, is a dark homage to punks partying in burned-out houses in the 1980's. At Acido Dorado, those two words are neatly stenciled in white block letters on one of the sloped concrete-block walls that serves as a bulwark against the Mojave Desert's sandstorms and searing sunlight. Besides being an unabashed reference to an acid trip, a desert rite of passage, Acido Dorado is a send-up of the names chosen to lend cheesy real-estate developments a romantic grandeur. There's also the literaI meaning of dorado. Inside and out, the house is awash in three shades of gold automotive paint. The sensibility is lowrider.
A single story with a rocky hill rising behind, the structure is surrounded by elaborate steel grilles interrupted by a concrete-block screen. Most of the actual exterior is composed of sliding doors in the gold-coated glass found on anonymous office buildings. Opening these doors creates a pavilion under a flat canopy. It’s held aloft on nine pencil-thin poles of polished stainless steel partially wrapped in gold-glitter vinyl, the kind that BMX riders use on their handlebars. Though the reference is almost comically sexual, ifs undermined by the way the shiny steel disappears into the sandy earth.
Alternate interpretations and optical illusions abound. At first, the gold color overwhelms. After the eyes adjust, it becomes just another shade of the surrounding desert. Much depends on the sliding grilles and doors as well. When they're closed, the house becomes a solid glittering object. When they're open, the line between indoors and out doesn't just blur. It inverts. Since the floor is sunken nearly 4 feet below grade, and 12-inch mirrored squares cover a large portion of the ceiling and the huge overhangs, the desert becomes a bodily presence hovering above.
The flowers on the grilles have a split personality, too. Obviously, they are phony-metallic gold roses appear in dreams, not nature. But welding wedding-cake decorations onto a strict grid, as Stone did with his own torch, "somehow, irrationally, conveys life," he says. "In the same way that fashion is not afraid of exploring high and low, neither am I. Something that looks tacky today can look Gucci tomorrow if done right. And after that, who knows? Maybe it will look tacky again." Of the 10 butterflies welded onto the grilles, amid the roses, one is situated perfectly on the building's center axis. Stone is wrestling with the ghost of Ludwig Mies van der Rohe. Modernism exemplified, the floor plan is a 1,400-square-foot rectangle divided into two squares: an all-in-one living area, dining area, and kitchen and a pair of bedrooms. The latter two rooms, in turn, are twin rectangles sparsely decorated with platform beds and mirrored built-ins. Of course, to butterfly is to split something symmetrically in two. The literaI and the figurative converge. Abitare Magazine on Acido Dorado The online post includes Sex Pistols and Tarantino clips that I think really enhance the read, see it here- http://www.abitare.it/highlights/robert-stone-design/ 
Design Bureau Magazine on Rosa Muerta This story is online with more photos at http://www.wearedesignbureau.com/2010/10/robert-stone-design/  When you look at his body of work and his refreshing, original design ethos, Robert Stone is more of an artist than an architect. While many other architects might have you believe the same about them, Stone’s work — bold, raw, engaging, and unapologetic — steers far clear of convention and hip architectural trends that muddy the marketplace with tired tropes. Rosa Muerta was not built for a client, nor did it have any real budget. It was built because Stone had an idea and wanted to share it with the world. “I want to establish to possibility of an underground architecture that is meaningful in it’s own time and place,” Stone says. “Architecture that matters, if even just to a few people. I want to make work that is every bit as beautiful, sunny, depraved, dark, exotic, familiar, trippy and fucked-up as Southern California is.” Elements like the fake flowers, mirrored ceilings, and tinted glass are a reaction to the Cholo culture of SoCal, bringing the supposed low-class aspirations of local residents to high design, reinterpreting them into architecture. It’s an acknowledgment, validation, and warm embrace of all that surrounds the house. And because no one lives in the house full-time, Stone has been able to rent it out to hundreds of people — yet another step in the organic process of living, creating, and sharing. Stone designed and built the house entirely on his own, without help from any other construction workers or contractors. It speaks to Stone’s close emotional relationship to the house, the land, and the culture he grew up in. Rosa Muerta brims with personal touches and humanistic flourishes, like the concrete hearts that adorn the home. Says Stone, ”The heart initially reads as perhaps a pop gesture, but it’s own connotations of love and sincerity bring the next question: ‘does he actually mean it?’ Yes, I mean it.” BG Magazine on Rosa Muerta BG
BG is a gorgeous large format fashion and design magazine from Spain. Photos by Brad Lansill.   Robert Stone – The Dead Rose of the Desert (Translated from Spanish text by Adriana Argudo)
Under the hot and relentless desert sun in Southern California we find a black silhouette that contrasts and complements its flat brown landscape.
Covered with a mirrored ceiling and surrounded by a screen with black fake flowers composed in strict geometric patterns, it blends with the warmth of the sand and gives life to the dead Southern California desert. Like a lost vernacular that developed over the generations after Manson killed the 60’s, the desert became over-run with dirt bikes, and the California dream rotted in the sun, Robert Stone designed a project beyond words with significant architecture that brings feelings from all who know this desert rose. The simple concept and complexity of the spaces result in a consistent and clear style.
Rosa Muerta is buried four feet into the ground with interior ceilings that are ten feet tall while the exterior appears to be too low to be a habitable structure. It’s walls are open to the surrounding natural elements, but it’s design carefully uses solar shading, thermal mass and breeze catching to regulate the temperature in a place that is an endless summer most of the year. For it’s creator, Robert Stone, Rosa Muerta is a perfect aesthetic for it’s time and place, a natural expression of the living culture of Southern California.
“Conceptually, I have a really different idea from most architects about where meaning resides in the subject-object relationship. Rather than thinking the meaning resides in the architectural object, or it’s abstract form, I consider that it is negotiated anew between the subject, the object and the context.”
Building elements of tile, glass and metal are monochromatic black to contrast to the beige view that dominates the area. The most striking and decorative element is the black rose metal work that that contrasts both visually and conceptually with the arid landscape.
Robert Stone is an architect who looks for meaning in the context, not simply in the trends but in the deeper expressions of the surrounding cultural context
As we look at this amazing project, we cannot stop thinking about how Gothic fashion may have found it’s way into this great signature work. And, how this project so effortlessly moves this into a more contemporary context.
“I don’t really identify personally with goth, but I admit that I really respond to the high level of craft in fashion that has a gothic edge to it- Olivier Theyskens, 2003 Gucci, Hedi Slimane. It isn’t surprising that the fashion world was the first to respond to my work either. They are used to looking at things that are all-black but are also carefully detailed. They are also used to looking at things that are new, and deciding for themselves if they are interesting. Architects strangely were slow to see the architecture in my work- the roof structure held together with stainless pins, the gravity defying structural tricks, or the concrete detailing, the spatial composition- the things that we architects get off on. They couldn’t get past the black color for a long time.”
“I think gothic as a style that favors the dark, irrational, and sensual over the rational and modern is a really different thing in different places. In my work I am finding expression for the “real” culture of Southern California- not the adobe fantasy, or mid-century modern fantasy, but the real culture that is both natural and fake, sunshine and noir, religious and godless. But, the gothic style in the Southern California desert is probably something different than it is in Spain or London.” Fashion editorial at Acido Dorado Paul Cruz shot these beautiful photos      Luxury Home Quarterly - but of course!         Architectural Digest France on Acido Dorado    Eigenhuis (Dutch) Feature on Rosa Muerta and Acido Dorado    The UK Guardian on Rosa Muerta - top ten travel destinations  No surprise that this chic, gothic "pavillion" has attracted fashion photographers, but it’s also open to anyone who wants a suitably dramatic bolthole for exploring the astonishing landscapes of Joshua Tree National Park. At the end of a dirt track, 10 minutes from the park enrtance, Rosa Muerta features intricate black wrought-ironwork with hearts and roses, a plunge pool, fire pit, and no walls, just the desert breeze to cool you. Wallpaper Magazine article on Rosa Muerta This format allows you to walk through the house and see it from viewpoints marked on the plan. Go here to walk through http://www.wallpaper.com/architecture/interactive-floorplan-rosa-muerta-house/3443  Here is the article text- Few modern houses can claim to be the result of a truly personal manifesto. Even fewer can be attributed solely to a single person, from detail drawing through to concrete pouring, brick laying and plumbing. But the Rosa Muerta House, located on the fringes of Joshua Tree in Eastern California, is all of these things. Robert Stone is a singular architect, a man concerned not with following the architectural herd, but with infusing his work with a sense of theatricality, atmosphere and craftsmanship. Rosa Muerta is a one bedroom house, a low pavilion that makes visual references to everything from Mies van der Rohe to Robert Smithson. 'My aesthetic basically started from nothing. Just an honest search for a way to make architecture that is more subtle and meaningful to me,' Stone says. As interested in sub-cultural design expressions like low-riding, ceiling-mounted mirrors and fancy ironwork as he is in minimal art, the house is a collision of craft and culture, entirely hand built by Stone himself. As a result, the Los Angeles-based architect prefers to exist at the periphery of the modern art world. Stone embraces the complexities and contradictions of contemporary architectural design, creating forms and concepts that occasionally jar or conflict. For Stone, the more juxtapositions the better. 'Ultimately, my work is very much for others to experience and create meaning with,' he says, 'but it begins with personal references simply because that is the only way I know how to work with real subtlety and understanding.' The plan exploits the arid desert location, focused around an outdoor living room with spa and fire pit, partly open to the sky and surrounded only by the combination of intricate metalwork mesh and black-stained concrete blocks. Above, the canopy roof initially appears to be a direct quote of the Case Study aesthetic, yet is actually carefully mirrored on the underside, reflecting the desert soil and scrub that runs right up to the building line. To be inside is to be outside. By contrast, the solitary bedroom is a dark, mysterious cave with the bed flanked by planters and a small kitchen, utility area and bathroom located alongside them. There are no definitive reference points, no concessions to fashion and no desire to promote a hollow futurism. Stone seems genuinely aghast at the world of 'high class luxury aesthetics', and Rosa Muerta derives its sense of drama and place through a self-conscious theatricality and spatial games. The low culture references are reverential without being patronizing, the 'trash' aesthetic of hearts, flowers and mirrors quoted and reappropriated without irony. A truly personal space, embedded in its landscape and set apart from the rat race of modern design. Monument on Acido Dorado
  Here is the text-
Architect Robert Stone and I are planning my visit to Rosa Muerta, a textured and reflective black mirage, which materializes just east of Joshua Tree in Southern California. In our initial correspondence, Stone tries to illustrate what I’m in for: “The house sits out in the middle of the open desert, overgrown with weeds and grasses like an exquisite burned-out Barcelona Pavilion from another, much sexier universe.”
Several days later, my car thermometer climbs 17 degrees in under three hours, ultimately perching at 40 degrees celsius. Congested Los Angeles freeways give way to dirt roads, steep grades and stretches of dry, uninhabited land. The setting is extraterrestrial, to be sure. And when I finally the integrated threshold from scorched sand to smooth black concrete, indeed I feel I’ve stepped through the looking glass in Barcelona and into Stone’s iridescent, heat-bent and handcrafted galaxy (where I experience and instant drop in temperature under the dramatic overhang). Reflections of Mies van der Rohe bounce, distorted, from the structure’s chrome columns. They replicate again in the (outdoor) living room’s low, mirrored canopy, which reflects back at the reflecting pool (also a spa) and makes the desert floor a ceiling. But with a nod to the columns, Stone urges me to consider the chrome details of a Mongoose BMX bike as well. Later, the architect alludes to legwarmers (yes, the ‘80’s fashion staple) as he explains how the black rope around each column visually disconnects the straight line of the supporting structure, “to make it float a little more”. “Clearly, I understand what it means to take a chrome column, and it’s the Barcelona Pavilion- but it’s coming out of the dirt,” Stone says. “It’s not sitting on a plinth; it’s in the desert. I know what the high references are for these things, but there are also ones that are just close to my heart.” In this way, Rosa Muerta is welded of dichotomous orientation points. It simultaneously quotes from the architecture of textbooks and references the twisted wrought iron of Southern California’s barrios. It borrows heavily from the architect’s personal experiences growing up in Palm Springs. The sunken living room, for instance, is reminiscent of a pool’s shallow end, where Stone says he spent much of his young life “gabbing with friends while everybody was skating”. Stone remarks on the unique view of the world achieved while sitting with his head just above ground level, one arm up, level with the landscape. “Think of it like language,” Stone says of his aesthetic approach. I can go to Japan and learn how to ask where the train station is, but here I can speak with a kind of poetry and understanding that is much more subtle. That’s what I am after – a way to make architecture that can work culturally in subtle and intricate ways.” Throughout the long conversation, our voices are punctuated by birdsong, the skittering of a lizard on concrete, and the distant growl of an engine. “I hope you get the dirt bike in the background,” Stone says with a laugh. “That really is the context.” Later, the architect, who writes prolifically of his work, quotes from his notebook: “The desert is awe inspiring and serene in its emptiness. But, just as important is the detritus of modern culture, a bleached out Coors can, or a shotgun shell on the ground, that reminds you that nature and culture cannot be separated.” I arrived at Rosa Muerta on the heels of a fashion shoot, the only evidence of which remained in thousands of footsteps still littering the desert sand. Rosa Muerta is a public space, but the fingerprints of visitors readily wash off the metal appliances and custom-cast concrete blocks. Physically, the structure does not allow for someone else’s baggage (save for some ashes in the fire pit). “There’s no parking, no garage, no storage.” The nearest neighbour is over 180m away. And so, Rosa Muerta has seen celebrations that resonated from Joshua Tree all the way to YouTube, but it has also hosted a visitor who spent five days meditating and been the site of a marriage proposal. “There will probably be all these babies named Rosa,” the architect laughs. Stone says the space was designed for “parties”, but he uses the word as shorthand for the disconnect a visitor might feel in a structure that offers no narrative cues. “The aesthetic being completely original to this place, you come out here and have to reinvent yourself,” Stone says. “Who am I in this little black house?” Then, after a moment’s thought, he adds: “In America, every community that’s worth a damn has an abandoned house that all the kids know about. And that’s where they go and party. In some ways, I am building that,” he says. “An open space with no adult supervision.”
Apartment Therapy on Acido Dorado
Describing Acido Dorado can be an extremely complicated affair because at first glance it seems remarkably simple. The building is an amorphous chameleon of sorts, a minimalist pavilion whose appearance changes inside and out as the day progresses and light folds into the desert evening, reminding one of a beetle carapace: blending into the landscape one moment, then sparkling iridescent an hour later. 78% of the house can be opened entirely to the outdoors with sliding doors throughout, and every opportunity we had, we left these wide open. With mirrored walls, furnishings and ceiling everywhere, there happens a near hallucinatory experience in regards to perceived space, as everything is multiplied into infinity (making for some amusing "hide and seek" moments with Emily as I snapped photos). The 2 dimensional quality of photos only captures a tiny percentage of the light-energetic space as perceived in person, but each glance you find yourself staring at the world from a novel perspective. It's hard not to come to the conclusion the sense of the infinite reflected within is meant as an extension of the seemingly endless land and sky in the Joshua Tree desert. But overanalyzing Acido Dorado would be a mistake, as its charm can be amazingly simple and comfortable. If one was to ask me what I liked about the home, I could only answer that it allowed me to be myself in solitude, quiet and introspection without any intrusion of "things". The possibility to do anything or nothing at all are afforded by a space that at first seems to provide the bare minimum, yet somehow proves to feel more comfortable than any luxury accommodation I've stayed at. Little touches like the choice of ornate bedroom light bulbs, welded butterfly and floral detailing on the exterior gates, and a smartly appointed fabric covered refrigerator keep the interior from slipping into the realm of austere, reflecting the minute beautiful details one often discovers while wandering the landscape around Joshua Tree. Our favorite memory of Acido Dorado was turning off all the lights and allowing the moon to paint the room with a faint pastel glow, plugging in our iPod into the home's sound system and then drowning ourselves into the atmospheric Mysterious Skin soundtrack that echoed throughout the house with cinematic effect. There were quite a few moments listening to music and staring at ourselves in the ceiling that we couldn't decide whether we felt like we were drifting into outer space or sinking to the deepest depths of the ocean. And nary a drop of alcohol or any other recreational stimulant was involved to reach this state! Glamour Magazine (don't worry it's the Russia edition) fashion editorial shot at Acido Dorado Gorgeous photography by our new best friend Michele Laurita       Cliff Watts fashion photography at Rosa Muerta    Elle Decor UK - Feature on Acido Dorado     Gold Standard Shimmering like a mirage, the surprising spectacle of this metallic house couldn't contrast more sharply with the surrounding wilderness of the Southern California desert by Jo Froude A golden house would be impossible to ignore in any setting. But rising up from the wilderness of the Joshua Tree national park, Acido Dorado can't fail to inspire a reaction. 'Gold has so many cultural associations' says its owner and architect Robert Stone, who insists that the initial shock of the bling factor is short lived. 'After the first ten minutes, you get used to it. It isn't really that flashy at all.' Robert also designed the neighboring Rosa Muerta, a similarly configured but alI-black house which featured in ELLE Decoration last September. 'It's an architecture which fits the place,' he says. 'The design is inspired by some of the abandoned buildings from the 1920s that you see around here. Not some phony image of the American south-west.' Honesty is central to the philosophy behind Robert's striking architecture, which has its roots in conceptual art. 'I don't want to create bad copies of someone else's work,' he says. 'If you're going to make the effort to do something, it has to matter.' So rather than working for a client and having to compromise on the design, he borrowed the money and now rents out the finished building as a vacation house to cover the costs. I don't really think of it as my house,' says Robert. 'More like the world's smallest hotel.' With its mirrored ceilings and gilded interior, Acido Dorado oozes glamour but also has a remarkably close connection to the wilderness of its desert setting. 'Inside there are many reflective surfaces, but you don't actually see yourself. The reflections expand the space outwards – it’s not about narcissism.' Whatever brings guests to this corner of the desert, from untamed nature to dazzling design, the chances are they won't find exactly what they were expecting - and that’s the way Robert likes it. 'I love it when the experience of things goes against preconceived ideas.' Apartment Therapy article on Rosa Muerta This weekend travelogue on Rosa Muerta was just published. The cuteness of this happy couple completely transforms the place. . . here is the link with a lot of great photos-http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/la/weekend-getaways-destinations/weekend-getaway-joshua-tree-and-rosa-muerta-los-angeles-071525   And the text- Weekend Getaway - Joshua Tree and Rosa Muerta Invited by architect Robert Stone to stay over at his desert luxe-camping shelter, Rosa Muerta, Emily and I spent a refreshing weekend out in the outlying area of Joshua Tree where sparse development met the desert wilderness. The weather this weekend was brisk with a threat of showers, and we only had a single evening free in our busy schedule to getaway. But what a getaway it was, giving us an opportunity to escape the urban hubbub for the peace, solitude and grandeur of the desert landscape in a most unique dwelling. All in all, the two days we spent out in Joshua Tree was a refreshment to our parched souls, quenching us with an almost drowning sense of quiet and relaxation... As I'm sitting here typing this I feel like part of me is still left in Joshua Tree wandering though canyons of gigantic boulders that seem like the forlorn ruins of an ancient gigantic race, exploring desert flora and fauna with Emily in the great expanse of the National Park, and also enjoying the relaxing solitude of the Rosa Muerta vacation rental. The home itself is part luxe accommodations and one part camping trip, as the structure is open in sections, allowing the desert air and sky to seep in. We prepared with plenty of blankets and warm wear, but being at least used to camping/hiking activities, a kitchen, a firepit, warm bed, open ceiling shower and most importantly, a jacuzzi made our stay less about "roughing it" and more about appreciating what this weekend getaway destination had to offer: tranquility. Owner/architect Robert Stone greeted us upon arrival, and his friendly concern about the comfort of our stay was something we noted and appreciated (he was worried about the impending cloudy-cooler weather, but it only led to a more dramatic desert sky and stay). And how bad could it be when we could spend a good deal of our time soaking in a HUGE jacuzzi? The whole Rosa Muerta structure balances a sense of solitude and open exposure to the elements, something we certainly appreciated upon first glance upward into the star-laden skies (we even got to wish upon a falling star!). An outdoor firepit kept us warm for hours as we just listened to the occasional dogs barking in the distance and we shared a home cooked meal of roasted corn, onion and feta pizza. With nearby Joshua Tree National Park just around the corner, we were torn between living it up and getting lost in nature, so we compromised and split our short time 50/50, appreciating both the creation of humankind and nature's hands offered us. The desert landscape is all about the dramatic sky, which can change in an instant from blue to black, and also the earthen pastiche of textures and colours just beneath your feet. We spied a family of adorable Antelope ground squirrels, a Loggerhead shrike, a regal looking American kestrel, a wandering coyote and the remains of one its meals (a half-eaten jackrabbit). We had a fantastic time, thanks both to our stay at Rosa Muerta and the wondrous landscape of Joshua Tree. Rosa Muerta is an absolute steal of a rental if you reserve with a couple of other friends; the place is for all practical purposes designed with partying in mind despite our more reflective and placid time there and we're already planning to come back with a few friends during warmer climes. Elle Decor UK - Feature on Rosa Muerta   The stark beauty of the desert is what inspired Los Angeles architect Robert Stone to build Rosa Muerta, a unique all-black retreat on the edge of California's Joshua Tree nature reserve. A shaven-headed, tattooed, former punk rocker, he lives here part of the year with his artist wife, Amy Wheeler, and their three-year-old son, Ford; the rest of the time the house is rented out for fashion shoots or to adventurous travelers. Here, Robert explains the idea behind his extraordinary home... |
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