Design Genius
Paul Tuttle’s Prolific Legacy
Written by l.D. Porter
Photographs by Farshid Assassi
Designers are defined by the objects they create. For Paul Tuttle (1918-2002), those objects include homes, interiors, furniture, and art. At the height of his career, the multitalented Tuttle shuttled between Switzerland—where his furniture designs were mass-produced—and his abode in Santa Barbara, where he received commissions to design houses, interiors, and custom furniture. Nearly two decades after his death, his iconic Nonna rocking chair is still in production, his vintage furniture commands impressive sums on auction sites like 1stdibs, and longtime local collectors cherish his creations as visual reminders of the man himself, who by all accounts was a delightful human being.
A native of Springfield, Missouri, Tuttle experienced hardship at an early age, watching his young mother juggle several jobs to support the family following his father’s untimely death from Parkinson’s disease. Following World War II (in which he served as a cartographer), Tuttle came to Los Angeles to study at what is now Pasadena’s Art Center College of Design under influential designer/professor Alvin Lustig, who promptly hired young Tuttle to work in his design office. “[Lustig] taught me that if you analyzed a problem thoroughly enough, there is nothing you can’t do,” Tuttle once said. (Taking his professor’s teaching to heart, Tuttle frequently revisited his furniture designs, patiently refining them in an effort to reach the essence of the design idea itself.)
After his stint with Lustig, Tuttle apprenticed with several notable architects, including Welton Becket & Associates in Los Angeles and Thorton Ladd in Pasadena. Along the way, he received important awards for his handmade wood furniture, which clearly reflected his talent as a natural engineer. As Tuttle later told an interviewer, “There is something so rewarding and pleasing about designing a chair that is both comfortable and beautiful to look at, and at the same time is also an engineering feat; that is the challenge.” During his lifetime, Tuttle would design more than 200 chairs.
Tuttle’s 1956 move to Santa Barbara was a turning point; he began experimenting with materials such as metal and glass to construct tables and chairs, notably the iconic wood and stainless steel “Z” chair that was exhibited at the Pasadena Art Museum in 1965. (San Francisco’s Museum of Modern Art owns one.) He became known for his innovative furniture designs, and began working as a designer for European furniture powerhouse Strässle International, spending part of each year in Switzerland. He also completed a total of six architectural projects in Santa Barbara, including designing his own home in Toro Canyon. “His work was very unique and often had a real humor about it, but there was always lots of thinking behind it—functional thinking,” says architect Andy Neumann, who collaborated with Tuttle on several office interiors and home design projects, and who fondly recalls the designer’s ability to transform difficult spaces through the use of distinctive sculptural elements.
As the years progressed, Tuttle’s Santa Barbara following increased. According to Marla C. Berns, former director of UCSB’s University Art Museum (now the Art, Design & Architecture Museum where Tuttle’s archive is maintained), by the late 1990s, many homes of Santa Barbara’s prominent art collectors, artists, and design aficionados were filled with Tuttle’s work. In 2001, Berns oversaw “Paul Tuttle Designs,” a major retrospective exhibition of the designer’s work at UCSB’s museum sponsored by roughly 70 families or individuals. Tuttle was also the subject of earlier solo exhibitions at MCA Santa Barbara, formerly the Contemporary Arts Forum, in 1995, and at the Santa Barbara Museum of Art in 1978.
Above all, Tuttle was a beloved figure about town. He was, for much of his adult life, surrounded by people from every walk of life who sought him out for his easygoing personality and prodigious, but quiet, talent. As Neumann notes, “Obviously he was a wonderful designer, but I think what really stands out is what a generous, kind person he was.” Berns echoes this sentiment: “He was a remarkable person in every way, and a designer possessing phenomenal imagination, energy, and integrity. I still miss him.”