Nearly a hundred years ago, when Malibu was a sleepy rancho—unspoiled by development, Pacific Coast Highway, tourists and 13,000 residents—when May Rindge ruled—she founded Malibu Potteries, a short-lived company that’s made a lasting imprint on California style. Malibu Potteries, located on the coast near the Adamson House, was only operational a few short years before it was interrupted by the Great Depression and a devastating fire, but its legacy of beautiful ceramic tiles is sought after by collectors and is being preserved by Pepperdine University librarians. They spoke about their collection at the Malibu Library last week.
Kelsey Knox, archivist for special collections at Pepperdine, recounted how Rindge, “considered the founding mother of Malibu,” founded Malibu Potteries in 1926. Construction was booming then as people were flocking to Southern California to make it their home. Ceramic tile was in demand for patios and stairways used in Spanish revival-style houses that were popular in the day. Rindge had the natural resources on her property—clay deposits and spring water—the perfect combination for great tile making. A savvy businesswoman, she opened the pottery, situated close to the Adamson house, which she built for her daughter Rhoda Rindge Adamson.
Rindge hired ceramisist Rufus Keeler to run the factory. Keeler was a master tile maker—overseeing the clay pieces known for their colorful designs inspired by Moorish, Egyptian and Mayan cultures and innovative glazes. He guarded the recipes “preciously,” according to Knox. Few people were allowed into the space where he created the vibrant glazes for which the tiles are prized.
In its heyday, 125 people were employed at Malibu Potteries, which produced more than 30,000 square feet of tile a month. It’s rare and highly valuable to this day. The best examples are on display at the Adamson House, Serra Retreat, Los Angeles City Hall, Union Station and the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel.
Many Malibu homes still have the coveted tiles decorating fireplace mantles, outdoor spaces, fountains, tabletops, staircases and kitchens. Some pieces such as urns, soap dishes, towel hooks, household vessels, plates and cups were also produced and they are hard to come by today. In fact, the collection at Pepperdine is a mere 21 tiles—all flat, decorative pieces that all came from the Gull’s Way Estate in Malibu.
In 1929, after only three years in business, the Great Depression hit and tile production ceased when construction did as well. Then, in 1931, disaster struck the pottery again when a fire consumed nearly half the building. Malibu Potteries never fully recovered.
“The combination of the extensive damage to the factory and the fact that tile demand was at a low—eventually, in 1932, the factory shut down for good,” Knox recounted. “It had such a limited run and it’s part of what makes Malibu Tiles kind of mysterious because there aren’t a ton left. They’re very fragile. The big installations like the Adamson House are safe, but once you take them out of the ground or out of walls they can be more prone to breakage.”
Speaking of the Adamson House—that’s where you’ll find the largest collection of Malibu Tiles and “used in the biggest variety of ways,” Knox explained. One highlight at the landmark home is the use of the tiles to recreate a 60-foot-long Persian rug. “It’s the most impressive use of tiles I’ve ever seen,” Knox admitted.
Because tiles are three-dimensional artifacts, unstable and fragile, unlike flat papers usually housed in libraries—they present preservation challenges to historians. The university has digitized the tiles using a high-resolution camera so images can be made available to the public. Josias Bartram, Pepperdine’s librarian for digital publishing, curation and conservation, said, “A common misconception is that collections like ours are being digitized to save space and get rid of the original materials,” but he emphasized, “that’s not the way that it works. Any digitalizations we do are in addition. There are always research purposes that can only be understood through handling physical material. Digitization provides researchers access from a distance.” It’s all online with a quick computer search.
“We’re thankful to be able to share the tiles we have,” Knox concluded.
The public is invited to view all of Pepperdine’s many historical collections in person at its Payson Library.
