Thursday, October 15, 2026

Dunn Loring School / Center

An image of the front (east) elevation of the Dunn Loring Center, a Colonial Revival one-story brick building with a gable roof. In the foreground is the building's metal sign and flagpole.

On my commute to work, one of my routes takes me past the Dunn Loring Administration Center. It's a darling Colonial Revival former school building that is now getting demolished for a new school building. 

In the 1930's, Fairfax County Public Schools (FCPS) sought to modernize its school facility fleet, phasing out one and two-room schoolhouses in favor of larger ones with more amenities and indoor plumbing. They applied for grant money to build eight of these schools through the Public Works Administration (PWA), part of the New Deal to help restart America's economy following the Great Depression. The school system decided one of these new schools should be placed in Dunn Loring. They bought a plot of land from Joseph Bolden Taylor, a Black man who had been enslaved earlier in his life (and then lived to be 103, passing away in 1950!). Construction on the school started December 31, 1938. Due to Dunn Loring and other concurrent construction projects, Fairfax actually pushed back the first day of school in 1939 from September 7th to 21st so they would all be ready to open for students. 

When Dunn Loring did open, the segregated White elementary school started out with five classrooms and an auditorium in the center. The population had continued to grow during the school's planning and construction phases, so it was immediately overcrowded. Two pairs of permanent classrooms were built onto the building in 1940 and 1944, bringing the total classrooms up to nine, as well as a cafeteria expansion in 1950. Temporary solutions were also implemented, including adding two quonset huts and converting the auditorium to classroom duty at times. Eventually, more schools were built in the area so Dunn Loring could have a manageable student population size. 

Dunn Loring, and the rest Fairfax County, would remain segregated until 1960, when the courts forced the school system to start desegregating. The White and Black student populations slowly merged together, fully completing the process in the fall of 1966. 

In 1978, after nearly 40 years, the Dunn Loring School was closed. While it had received an infrastructural update in 1975, the area's school population had shrunk considerably. The 1978-79 school year projected Dunn Loring to be 50% empty, so the school system closed the school and divvied its students to the nearby schools. After sitting empty for a decade and a brief 2-year lease to the Islamic Saudi Academy, the building was converted into school administrative offices between 1988-1990 and received an addition of a new wing. Along with offices, the building also housed special education and parenting programs. The Dunn Loring Administrative Center would keep this role for another nearly 40 years.

The southern elevation of the Dunn Loring Center, with two stories viewable.
Dunn Loring's southern elevation

By 2021, the population around Dunn Loring was growing again. With that in mind, the Fairfax School Board voted on a plan to convert the Dunn Loring Center back into an elementary school. They contracted Samaha Associates to work on the designs. Fairfax touted that they "have the opportunity to return the building to its original purpose and support the needs of students in the surrounding community. The repurposing of the Dunn Loring Administrative Center will provide approximately 900 students with an elementary school rooted in history and poised to provide 21st-century learning, preparing young children for bright futures."

A year later, Samaha and Fairfax released three site layout options. All of them involved demolishing the current building in favor of a newer facility. What happened? Fairfax released the following statement:
"The design consultant evaluated the potential to reuse any portion of the building as part of the design process. Unfortunately, we could not keep any of the original building and meet current educational requirements. To attempt to reuse the building would also increase costs significantly."
Community members were not happy with the chosen direction for the property. They noted multiple potential problems, including increased traffic and safety concerns, tree preservation, encroaching on nearby housing plots, and building a large building on such a tiny parcel of land. They also wondered if the school was even necessary to begin with, with some attendance forecasts showing the surrounding elementary schools projecting to have declining attendance over the next couple of years. 

When it came time for the Fairfax County Planning Commission to vote on the plan, they initially deferred their vote due to wanting more information and more community outreach. Many on the commission criticized the school system for their "dismissive" attitude toward historic preservation in general, as well as not working with the Fairfax County History Commission nor the Fairfax Architectural Review Board on these plans. Eventually, Fairfax did start working with the groups, and thus was able to get some movement on site approvals. During a later rezoning vote over the site with the Fairfax Board of Supervisors, FCPS was further reminded to "be a good neighbor." FCPS did agree that they would save some items for an interpretive exhibit in the new school building, including the front entryway, the school's PWA plaque, and 50 bricks.

Earlier this year, the Dunn Loring Administrative Center closed down in phases, with its programs and offices moving to different buildings. The center was emptied of furniture, utilities were cut, and the building was made ready for its impending destruction. Demolition started around the second week of September. The process has been slow. It appears the school system is recycling the building's materials, so they are sorting through the rubble looking for what can be salvaged. Once demolition concludes later this month, work will begin on the new four-story school. It is expected to open in Fall 2028 and enroll approximately 1,000 students. 


It's a little sad to see so much work go into actively not doing anything towards historic preservation initially. I definitely agree that Fairfax Schools has been very blasé towards the building. Personal anecdote time: back in the spring, I emailed the school system to ask if I could visit the school and take some pictures of the interior to document the building prior to its demo. They responded that there was a Dunn Loring Center Heritage Day with guided tours on Saturday, May 30th, 10am-12pm. It sounded like an interesting event, so I moved some plans around for that day so I could visit. I got there around 11:35am, where I found staff already breaking things down. There had been guided tour(s) earlier, but none at my arrival time. In fact, I actually had to speed through viewing the building because they were closing and locking it all prior to 12pm. Between myself and some alumni I spoke to, we agreed the event was not well publicized. Ending a 2-hour event earlier than it was scheduled? You set a low bar of expectations and still managed to not clear it. It would have been nice for FCPS to have made a little more of a bigger deal about this. 

Here are some of the pictures I took around the school on that day:

Front entry of the Dunn Loring School. One of the front doors is propped open, its inside obscured in shadow.

Looking up at the white-painted woodwork surrounding the Dunn Loring Center's front doorway. It features square panels.
Woodwork around front door

Looking up the stairs from the front entry of the Dunn Loring Center. Through the double doors are some people milling around in the room beyond.
View from the front door. 
One alum told me the door to the left was the Principal's Office.

Looking at an archway to an adjoining hall with simple yet decorative corner accents.
I loved the archways

A medium-sized tree sits in the middle of a grassy area, surrounded by brick walls with windows.
Courtyard in the middle of the school

The front entry room in the Dunn Loring Center. The room is mostly empty except for a pile of folding chairs, folding tables, and three doorways.
The white wall in-between the doorways was originally where the stage was.

A men's bathroom with walls covered in large tan tiles. In the corner is a slightly elevated platform with white porcelain urinals, around 3 feet tall.
Men's bathroom in oldest wing

An empty classroom with blue carpet. The room has some random objects remaining, including two rolling chairs and one square table.

Looking down a hallway with windows and doors. Further down the way is one person walking.
Hallway

Blue elevator doors in a hallway. The walls are tiled halfway up the wall. The doors say "Elevator" on them.
"Elevator"

An empty classroom with linoleum tiles. Paper fish hang from the ceiling. An underwater mural runs along one wall.

A yellowed sign next to a window. It says "PLEASE DO NOT OPEN THE WINDOWS IN THIS ROOM. REASON: YOU MAY BE ABLE TO CLOSE THEM BACK AGAIN BUT YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO LOCK. THANK YOU!!!"

A small rectangular room with white walls and linoleum tile. It has a couple stacked chairs and six hand sanitizers on pedestals.
Backrooms vibes in the former Vending Machine room

Looking out the front entry double doors. One of the doors is open, showing a road, grassy area, and front sign beyond.


Dunn Loring is a sweet little school that served so many generations of students and school administrators. Sad to see it go, but it had a great run. Here's to you, Dunn Loring.



SOURCES


(If you liked this piece, I write history on a lot of schools in neighboring Loudoun County on my other blog, My Summer with Loudoun Schools. Check it out!)

Wednesday, June 3, 2026

2026 Presidents Park Williamsburg Revisit

A gray concrete box in the woods, surrounded by dead leaves and brown pine needles.

I returned to Presidents Park. No, not where the heads from Presidents Park Williamsburg are currently sitting (You want to see that? Check out my previous post). I went back to their original home, now an overgrown walking path. Yeah, not as thrilling or artistic, but it's still around!

While I posted about Presidents Park in 2024, I actually visited the site the summer of 2022. When I was getting ready to post, I noticed via satellite imagery that there had been some changes at the site in-between 2022 and 2023. Vegetation around the back gazebo had been significantly cut back. What was going on? So it had been on my to-do list to stop by at some point and reinvestigate things. This time, during the winter when plants wouldn't get in my way as much.


The Presidents Park paths were much easier to traverse this time. Tree limbs had been cut down, paths had been rediscovered, and tire tracks from some construction vehicle were marked on the concrete. Already nature was starting to reclaim some sections again with pine needles. Even though, the previous hour-long trek around turned into an easy 10-15 minute stroll. I was laughing at myself for how short it was, and how close the neighboring Wyndham Garden hotel was to the back end of the site. I had no idea in the summer overgrowth a couple years ago.

A gray concrete box is surrounded by trees in the woods during the winter. In the distance is a brick multistory hotel building.

A Presidents Park path lined by trees, vines, and lamp posts in winter. The path is slightly covered by pine needles.

A Presidents Park path lined by trees, vines, and lamp posts in winter. The path slowly disappears under pine needles.

A gray concrete box partially broken in the former Presidents Park. Trees grow around it, and a white signpost frame lays on top of a corner.

Significant clearing had happened around the gazebo. You could walk all the way around it now.

A white gazebo stands in a clearing in a wooded area in winter.

The Visitor Center looked more-or-less the same, so I didn't take any shots of it. Here's the comparison views from the Visitor Center's balcony:

An image of an elevated view of Presidents Park when it was still open. There is a winding, looping path, white presidential busts on gray bases, informational signs, and lampposts. In the back is the top of a gazebo-like roof structure.
Presidents Park, 2005
View from the 2nd floor deck of the visitor center.
"263_6311" by David via Flickr [CC-BY-2.0]

An image of a similar elevated view of Presidents Park from 2022. A rain-stained concrete path forks, its branches disappearing into a thick forest of trees. In the foreground is mown grass and one lamppost.
Presidents Park, 2022


An image of a similar elevated view of Presidents Park from Winter 2026. The plants have been thinned, so more of the curving concrete path is visible, along with another lamp post. The grass is yellow.
Presidents Park, 2026
(lining it up better with the 2005 photo)

In 2022, George Washington's pedestal seemed inaccessible with plant growth. In 2026, it's a lot easier to walk down its dedicated path.

A path leading up to a gray concrete box with trees growing out of it. The path is partially covered with brown pine needles.

Closer up to the gray concrete box that was in the previous photo. It is surrounded by trees in winter.
Former pedestal for the George Washington head


So why did a minor clean-up happen? In November 2022, Ryson Development, L.P. bought the property for $2 million. Most likely, they wanted to inspect/have an appraisal done on the existing conditions of the park section, so they cut down the plants to get to some areas. 

Ryson has offered spaces in the former visitor center up for lease through Cushman & Wakefield | Thalheimer. There doesn't seem to be any immediate future plans for the park portion of the property. In the marketing materials I found, they briefly mention its existence: "Adjacent parcel offers future development opportunities and potential access to outdoor green space (formerly President's [sic] Park)." (I love how they say "potential access." Sure, if plants are kept under control. Machete to cut through not included!)

If/when redevelopment happens, it will be interesting to see how things play out. Technically, the park portion of the property is a separate parcel of land than the visitor center and its parking lot. While they currently function together, there is a very small access route from the road that could be used as a drive onto that property. If Ryson or a future developer wants to redevelop both properties to work together, that may spell doom for the former Visitor Center. Between a wireless communication tower and a retention pond, the Visitor Center is the only viable bridge between the two properties. That was the right setup for its outdoor museum days, acting as a gate of entry for paying guests, but if they want that land parcel connection, the Visitor Center's gotta go.

A topographical map of Presidents Park land, property lines, and the immediate adjacent properties.
Screenshot from York County GIS map viewer.
223 Water Country Pkwy is highlighted


Changing the subject to news outside the park borders, sculptor artist David Adickes passed away last year. He didn't end up finding a permanent home for his Houston presidents heads collection during his lifetime. So far, there seem to be no updates on them, other than an advertisement on Adickes' website for the option of buying individual ones or the whole collection. 

There is an unfortunate deadline for the studio. Houston's highways are in the midst of a multibillion-dollar redesign. Construction on the interchange that sits around the studio is scheduled to start in 2028, with the studio most likely being acquired by eminent domain and demolished. Will the third set of presidential heads be lost or saved? Only time will tell.


To wrap things off:
If you want to rent offices next to Presidents Park Williamsburg, click here!
If you want to buy an individual/whole collection of presidential head sculptures, click here!


A Presidents Park path lined by trees, vines, and lamp posts in winter. The path slowly disappears under pine needles.

SOURCES
York County GIS Map (accessed 5/25/26)

OTHER POSTS

Monday, August 11, 2025

House of the Book

A picture of the front of House of the Book, a circular, tan concrete building with a wind scoop-like collar. On the center of the building is a cylindrical tower. A dusting of whispy clouds fill the background. The sun has partially lit the facade, with great shadows marking the rest.

Growing up, Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers was one of my favorite TV shows. I loved all the action, good versus evil, the megazords, special powers, weapons, everything. While most of its filming took place on soundstages and nondescript natural areas, there was an exterior establishing shot of the Command Center, the Power Rangers' home base. It was a circular building with a wind scoop-like collar, sitting on an outcropping of rocks.

A screenshot image from Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers TV Series. It shows a tan curved building, the Command Center (played by House of the Book). It sits on top of an impressive rock structure with striking diagonal lines.
Screenshot of the Command Center from
the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers TV series

I later learned that these were both real (and separate) places, the Vasquez Rocks and House of the Book. They have both been used extensively in many sci-fi tv shows and movies for their other-worldly looks and being located within the Los Angeles 30-mile Studio Zone. 

As you may have already guessed, I'm more into architecture than geology, so I really wanted to check out House of the Book. A couple years ago, I learned it was on the gated Brandeis-Bardin Campus of American Jewish University, so that deterred me at first. Much later and more recently, I was able to get permission onto the campus to visit the building (Thank you Dan!).


The Brandeis-Bardin Campus used to be the land of the Brandeis Institute (later renamed the Brandeis-Bardin Institute). Founded by Dr. Shlomo Bardin with US Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis, it started in 1941 as an institute to help young Jewish American individuals discover/reconnect with their Jewish culture and tradition. Bardin didn't want the Jewish diaspora in America to completely assimilate into the American way of life, saying that both cultures could coexist in a person. The institute bought its California land in 1947. Dr. Bardin chose it due to its privacy/safety, as well as its resemblance to Israel. It's now one of the largest land parcels outside of Israel owned by a Jewish institution!

Dr. Bardin's teaching method was a mix of the American summer camp, kibbutz style living, and the Danish folk high school model. Music, dance, labor, and lectures were all part of the curriculum for the college-aged program. The institute was nonsectarian, so Judaism was taught broadly, presenting guests speakers from varying sects. The program became wildly successful and created a huge following, so much so that Bardin expanded the programming to include children/teenager and adult versions: Camp Alonim and House of the Book, respectfully. 



The drive up to the campus was unexpected. One moment, I was in the urban sprawl of the greater Los Angeles area, passing through an industrial park. The next, I was turning onto a pepper tree-lined lane at the base of the Santa Susana Mountains, the range that defines the southern edge of the Simi Valley. Passing onto the campus, I felt like I had been transported miles away from the freeways and highways right behind me. It felt like the quintessential summer camp ranch. Trails, trees, fields, dirt, and mountains all around. The buildings on the campus were an eclectic mix from different eras. There were wooden cabin buildings, simple early 20th century ranch structures, some 1970/80's structures, and then some modern conference center villas. It just has this entirely different feel, like it was timeless yet disconnected from most modern life.

As I passed beyond the collection of buildings, taking the road towards House of the Book, the ground started to rise. Soon, I was above the tree line and could see a wide, open view of the little off-shoot valley. It seemed like this spot was a bucolic little oasis, with no human touch except for the road and the clusters of buildings. As I continued upwards along the side of the mountain, I passed cows laying in a field and a couple people out hiking/walking. The road had a stretch where it was very steep. Definitely made me nervous, hoping my rental car had enough power to muster through it. Luckily, it did.

Looking at a paved road going down a steep mountain side. Green mountains, devoid of any human structures, cover the background.

The road turned, and suddenly House of the Book came into view along the next ridge.

A picture of the backside of House of the Book, sitting on the top of a lush green mountain. It is surrounded by many trees and bushes.
The backside of House of the Book

 A few more turns, and I ended up in the parking lot. House of the Book loomed in front of me. I had finally made it. 

A picture of a curving asphalt path going up an incline. Slightly above is the side of House of the Book. The building is partially blocked by trees and foliage.



In the 1950's, House of the Book [the adult programming/membership at the Institute] needed a space for its events. Thus the idea for House of the Book [the building] was born. After many years of fundraising, ground was broken in 1970. Construction was a bit difficult, as Dr. Bardin had set the site of the building on top of one of the campus' mountains, separate from the rest of the Institute's buildings. The road (actually steeper than it is today) made getting some equipment to the site difficult. The air conditioning units had to be air dropped onto the site via helicopters. Despite its obstacles, the $1.25 million building overcame them and opened up in 1973.

House of the Book was designed by Sidney Eisenshtat, a well-known architect who designed many Jewish synagogues in the L.A. area. The building had multiple purposes: a Bet Midrash (House of Study), a Bet Tfilah (House of Prayer), and a Bet Knesset (House of Assembly). Along with plenty of space for folk dances, concerts, lectures, classrooms, and Shabbat celebrations, it also had shelves of books available to study Jewish texts. The main hall had movable walls, which could open the space for large gatherings or section it off to make smaller breakout rooms. Windows and decor were kept at a minimum, as both Bardin and Eisenshtat thought that these would distract from the building's purpose. House of the Book proved to be a wonderful addition to the Institute, and continues to serve the Jewish community there well.



A picture of a curving concrete sign. On it reads "Come ye and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord" in Hebrew and English.
Part of the front sign

As I walked up the path from the parking lot, vegetation blocked the front of the building. House of the Book is angled so you never see the front until you finally walk up its curving path. Its placement on the mountain, being away from everything else on campus, it all comes across as very purposeful. You have to make a conscious effort to visit the hall. I really like it. It's all building up to the final reveal of the front.

And what a reveal!

A picture looking up at the front of House of the Book from the base of its cylindrical tower. From the perspective, the building looms tall against the blue sky. The building's tan, decoratively cracked facade is lit strikingly by the sun, leaving dramatic shadows over areas.


Here is was, finally, right in front of me! What a building.

It struck me that it was Brutalist. From Power Rangers (a show filmed in standard definition), it always looked like it was made of sandstone or marble. Not so! It's concrete, through and through. Its circularity and exterior details take away the stereotypical "Brutalist" feeling. It is more almost sculptural.

I have no idea what the exterior pattern is supposed to represent. I read a comment somewhere on the internet [that I can't find now] saying it wasn't a map, but didn't have any details other than that. Most of the design is indented into the wall, but there is one rectangle that protrudes from the facade. Why? Was there a mistake, or something that needed to be covered over?

A picture of the right-hand-side of House of the Book's front facade, featuring a decoratively cracked pattern. One square juts out, with the rest of the marks indent into the wall.



"Isn't exactly the mall, is it?" Pink Ranger Kimberly joked when the gang first beamed into the Command Center in Power Rangers. It wasn't exactly the mall inside House of the Book either. Instead of neon and blinking control buttons (which I knew wouldn't be there), I was met with a 2-3 story tall hall. With glazed brick floor tiles, earth tones, and wooden movable walls, it very much reflects the 70's era which it comes from. The curved walls continue in here with the overall shape of the room and the four circular breakout rooms jutting into the hall. The space is very empty and blank, but it was meant to be that way. It was also between events, with a maintenance man working on in one of the breakout rooms.

Here's a look around the hall:

Inside House of the Book, looking North. You can see two breakout rooms with wooden walls (one closed, the other partially ajar), the back wall, a light from a doorway out of sight, and a curving wall to the right.

Inside House of the Book, looking West. You can see four of the curved breakout rooms with wooden walls (all closed except the one on the right, which is partially ajar) and the lined back wall.

Inside House of the Book, looking South. You can see three breakout rooms with wooden walls (all closed), the lined back wall, light from a window and doorway out of sight, and a curving blank wall to the left.

Inside House of the Book, looking East North-East. You can see the lined back wall, a light from a doorway out of sight, and a blank curving wall to the right. In the center of the curving wall is a circular indentation with an out-of-sight skylight and a small raised (curved) platform.

The cylindrical tower that sticks out from the middle of the front facade, the one the Power Rangers would use to beam into the building, turned out to be a skylight above a raised platform.

A picture looking up into a circular skylight from inside House of the Book. The glass panels are made up of triangles placed in a geometrically-pleasing pattern. A metal chain hangs down from the center of the skylight.
The skylight in the cylindrical tower

It's a funny building. From the outside, it looks like there could be a lot inside. Inside, there are essentially three areas, the lobby/bathrooms, the hall, and then its circular breakout rooms. And this is all on one floor! No stairs or elevators anywhere!

A picture of the lobby of House of the Book. Pictured is a one-story space with a small window, trapezoidal sofas, and a wooden door leading to the bathroom.
The Lobby

A picture inside the smallest breakout room in House of the Book. It is one-story and circular. The ground is tiled. The walls have one wooden door, a couple of bookshelves, and some wooden paneled walls.
Inside the smallest circular room

The circular rooms feature books and some stained glass artwork (they were not illuminated when I was visiting, so I don't have pictures to share). It felt a little odd for there to be no chairs or tables by the books. I guess you could read the books on the chairs in the lobby? But again, the building wasn't in use that day, it's possible they have furniture when there's camp in session.
 


After I explored the inside, I went outside again to check out a path I saw that skirted around the side of the building.

A picture of a concrete path skirting along the edge of House of the Book. The left side is full of foliage. The right side is the curved, concrete wall of the building. A lobby window juts out into the path.

It turned out to lead to two circular plazas. The more spaces for gathering and dancing, the better! It was a lovely little hidden surprise.

A picture of two circular tan plazas at House of the Book. In the background is the main building, along with tall foliage surrounding the plazas on the three viewable sides of the image.

A picture of a circular plaza, surrounded by trees and foliage. Beyond the trees, you can see a mountain line.

A picture of the back of a wooden bench in the grass, facing the downward slope of a hill, foliage, and mountains.
A bench near the plazas



After I finished walking around, I just sat in front of House of the Book for a while. I noticed all the curves. I noticed one straight unadorned wall, all the lines, how the building seems symmetrical but actually isn't. I noticed how the sun hit the building, how the shadows had changed even in the time since I had first arrived. I just sat marveling at it, at my luck for finally getting to be there. Thinking about how I was glad I didn't try to enter the building the way the Power Rangers did and crash into the skylight in the tower. Thinking about how this was my present moment, but soon it would be my past, a memory of a moment.

A picture of the center of the plaza in front of House of the Book. In the middle is a red wooden circle. From that point, the concrete around it draws lines away from it like a sunbeam. A significant crack runs nearby. In the distance, you can see foliage and the entranceway to House of the Book.

An image of a curving pathway along an overlook next to House of the Book. To the left is a small grassy hill between the path and House of the Book. Foliage and some mountains can be seen above the overlooks concrete balcony.

An artsy picture of a side perspective on House of the Book's cylindrical tower and front concrete facade. The sunlight creates striking shadows across its walls.

An artsy picture of different concrete curves and lines along the left-hand-side facade at House of the Book. Inset is a large window of blue glassblocks, some circular, some thin ovals. 3 of the glassblocks are noticeably broken.

Another artsy photo of the right-hand-side of House of the Book's front facade and wind scoop-like collar, focusing on the lines. The image is at an angle, skewing everything slightly.

Eventually the present moment had to end. I said farewell to House of the Book, to the Brandeis-Bardin campus at American Jewish University, and drove away onto the highways and byways.

I'm so glad I got to visit. This really was a bucket list item for me. I wasn't sure if this little trip would make me feel anything. It was in one shot from a tv show from my childhood. But who am I kidding? I write a blog about architectural history, of course I felt something! House of the Book is a joy. I can't wait to see its next Hollywood appearance.

A picture of the front of House of the Book, a circular, tan concrete building with a wind scoop-like collar. On the center of the building is a cylindrical tower. The image is bordered by grass, curving benches, and branches of foliage.



SOURCES:
The Brandeis-Bardin Institute: A Living History by Jenna Leventhal (2012)
Catania, Sara "Divine Horseman Holds Reins at Jewish Institute" Los Angeles Times, 23 July 1994.
N.A. "Brandeis Center Plans Expansion: House of the Book Challenge Accepted" New York Times, 12 August 1973.

RECENT HOUSE OF THE BOOK MEDIA APPEARANCES:
Netflix's Beef (Season 1)
Kendrick Lamar's GNX music video
Chris Brown's Wall to Wall music video

OTHER READS: