Tiles saved the Adamson House, theorized Cristi Walden, one of the board members of the Malibu Lagoon Museum.

In the 1970s, she explained, the state wanted to tear down the building and turn the land into a beach parking lot. But, because the house was brimming with vintage tiles, there was a change of heart and the Adamson House was preserved as a historical landmark.

“There’s not a lot of history in Malibu,” said Walden, “and the Adamson House is probably the only real historic landmark. Had it not been protected, moreover, the appreciation for tiles might not have taken place.”

Walden is also one of the curators for the California Tile Exhibit at the California Heritage Museum in Santa Monica.

The show, which will run until the end of September, features more than 1,200 individual tiles, 50 tile tables and 50 murals, all meticulously installed by the museum’s small staff. According to Tobi Smith, the museum’s director, it took four people to hang the show’s largest murals, which are 91-inches high, on the specially built second floor gallery wall.

The ceramic artworks, which were borrowed from 60 collectors around the country, represent about 34 northern and southern California tile factories, including many samples from May K. Rindge’s Malibu Potteries.

“This is the real deal,” marveled Janine Waldbaum, owner of Malibu Tile Works, on opening night. “These are the authentic tiles from the 1920s, the Golden Era of tile making.”

Architects during California’s ’20s building boom were enamored with Spanish and Mediterranean building styles as the rest of the population hungered for handmade arts and crafts in the face of dehumanizing industrialization. The demand for ceramic tiles was strong and the trend did not escape May K. Rindge, widow of Frederick Hastings Rindge, the last owner of the Spanish land grant that later became Malibu.

Rindge, a capable businesswoman trying to recover money lost in legal fees to halt construction of a highway through her estate (today’s PCH), recognized that there was a muddy gold mine of red and buff burning clay existing under her feet. Also working in her favor was an abundant supply of water and a convenient transportation system that could carry craftsmen in from Santa Monica and facilitate the distribution of finished products to buyers.

In 1926, she commissioned Rufus B. Keeler, an expert ceramist who had worked with and started some of California’s most successful tile companies (also represented in the Heritage Museum exhibit), to construct and operate Malibu Potteries. The artist had spent years researching Spanish and Moorish decorative tiles and aimed to replicate the exquisite style and vivid colors in his own work.

The result: strong, durable tiles decorated with brilliant glazes renowned for their color and clarity.

“The newer tiles are still hand-glazed and it’s still a very labor-intensive process,” said Walden. “But while they are beautiful in their own right, they’re just not the same [as the vintage tiles].”

One of the reasons: the older artisans used dangerous chemicals not available today like uranium, which was used to produce a unique orange color, and other compounds with high lead content.

Only the vintage tiles, furthermore, offer a glimpse into California’s historic fascination with exotic and local themes.

The “Saracen” style, for example, coined by Keeler, celebrated the spread of Islam into Spain and France in the Middle Ages. Since Muslims were forbidden to represent images of living beings in their art, these tiles are predominantly abstract and geometric.

The glorification of things Spanish is seen repeatedly in the Heritage Museum show through scenes of dancing senoritas and dons.

Tiles with Mayan and Egyptian designs followed the fascination over archeological discoveries of pyramids in Egypt and Central America, and Mexican caballeros in sombreros taking siestas recalled California’s Mexican heritage.

“These historic tiles are getting harder and harder to find,” Walden worried. “Every day in Los Angeles, bathrooms are being remodeled and houses that were decorated with these wonderful tiles are being torn down. I’m hoping people will begin to realize that the tiles are special and that they are worth saving.”

The California Heritage Museum, located at 2612 Main Street, Santa Monica, is open Wednesday through Sunday at 11 a.m. – 4 p.m. The exhibit, “California Tiles: The Golden Era 1910-1940,” will continue through September.

Suzanne Marcus Fletcher/Special to The Malibu Times

Hundreds of Malibu residents, coupled with a significant influx of Southern California visitors, descended on Bluff’s Park Sunday to take part in the third annual “Chumash Day,” in celebration of Malibu’s indigenous heritage and to honor the planet in an annual event gaining greater public attention, called Earth Day.

In brilliant traditional attire, Native American artists, singers and dancers from diverse cultural backgrounds participated in ancient ceremonies, dance, music and a collective sharing of oral traditions in appreciation of Malibu’s earliest inhabitants, the Chumash, a tribe still referred to by some, as “the Western gatekeepers.”

“When we honor the Chumash spirit, we honor the earth and ourselves,” said one participant.

On a day made to order, the organized if not seamless event, hosted by The City of Malibu and The Native American Cultural Resources Advisory, was initiated to educate the public about Malibu’s strong Native American ancestry.

“I am very pleased with how the event turned out,” said Francine Greene, co-director of Chumash Day, who appeared delighted that everyone scheduled to appear was in attendance.

Michael Reifel, from the San Carlos Apache tribe of southern Arizona, was the event’s master of ceremonies. He said that pow-wows and events such “Chumash Day” “are incredibly effective and necessary for the public’s understanding of other cultures. This is how we break down prejudice,” he said, “and how we build support.”

That sentiment was further echoed by Lomita visitor, George Broadstone, 48. “A lot of us are urban Indians, disconnected from the reservation and a connection to our culture,” he said. “My father was Chumash from Santa Barbara. As you grow older, you meet people [at these events] and interact with them. You get more connected to your spiritual side.”

As to the remaining influence of the Chumash, “You can’t turn over a stone in Malibu or a building without finding some sign that my ancestors were here,” said Red Star, a descendent of the Chumash and core participant in the event’s ceremonial activities. “We keep learning little bits about our history,” he said. “As people start learning about who they are from a little tid-bit their grandma or grandfather told them, we find these hundreds of tid-bits have made a foundation. We have a place in this society. We belong here.”

Native American diversity was in evidence as artists, performers and vendors from Los Angeles, New Mexico’s Aztec community as well as Polynesian dancers who call themselves “Na Hoaloha O’ Polynesia,” came to contribute the flavor and nuance of their particular clan, tribe or group. A notable dancer named Ocelot, from the Aztec dance group called “Nallhi-Ollin,” says he became involved in traditional dancing “when a friend invited me to practice one day. It was a feeling inside my heart. I enjoyed it.”

Chumash Day proved an ideal setting for families to gather and bring their children to witness and participate in the dances and rituals, ride ponies, and to simply have fun. Former Malibu resident, Davis Alexander, who attended with her husband Justin Marcus and two children, said it was her first time at the event and that she plans to return next year. Alexander taught English as a second language and math on the Navajo reservation years earlier, but had not the opportunity to connect with Malibu’s Chumash community prior to this event.

“My children love ceremony and ritual, so this is very meaningful to them,” said Alexander, who added that her children attend a school whose curriculum facilitates “an understanding of our ties to the earth and to indigenous people everywhere. Children understand being connected to the earth, because they haven’t forgotten what’s taken us so many years to forget.”

Malibu Canyon resident, Marlon Hoffman, 48, learned about Chumash Day by happenstance. “I have friends who meet here every Sunday morning. We couldn’t meet [today] and I found out this event was here. I am really glad, because I would like to honor the people whose land we live on.”

Cecilia Garcia, who has a wild, infectious laugh and propensity for dancing, is a no-nonsense medicine woman who says her specific calling is to “teach joy. I am the Chumash clown,” she said, “the reflection in the mirror.” Garcia has a blanket laid out on the park grass with a wide assortment of plants and objects that she uses to teach people about Native American medicine, and ultimately, about themselves. True to her mirror-image statement, Garcia is at turns laughing one minute and deadly serious the next, as she looks one young woman squarely in the eye and says, “You worry too much about others. You take on everyone’s problems. Honor yourself. Be kind, but not stupid.”

Nodding in agreement, the young woman does not appear shaken. Instead, she grows glassy-eyed and seems to appreciate Garcia’s candor. “There’s no mystery to our lives,” offered Garcia, “It’s about common sense and good manners.”