Preserving Black Modernism: The Getty Foundation's Expanding Architectural Canon

The Robert Taylor Homes in Chicago, completed in 1962 and demolished by 2007, exemplify urban renewal’s failures. This narrative often overlooks Black architect John Moutoussamy and his firm A. Epstein & Sons, one of the few Black architects involved in such a large-scale project. The Getty Foundation’s Conserving Black Modernism initiative addresses these gaps in architectural scholarship and preservation of vulnerable structures.

Launched in 2021 with $3.1 million in grants, the program funds the preservation of modernist buildings by African American architects. Early recipients include Atlanta’s First Church of Christ, Scientist, a 1970 structure designed by Henri L. Jova, a protégé of John R. Lankford. The church stands as a monument to liturgical modernism and the intertwined histories of African American congregations and architectural practices. Getty funding supports condition assessments and restoration strategies, establishing a foundation for long-term conservation.

This program fits within the Getty’s Keeping It Modern initiative, which concluded in 2020 after supporting 77 preservation projects globally, including efforts on the Bauhaus buildings in Dessau and Le Corbusier’s Chandigarh. Unlike these canonical landmarks, Black Modernism often exists at the margins of architectural discourse. “These buildings are part of a broader story—one that connects cultural identity, race, and the shaping of our built environment,” says Antoine Bryant, an architect and consultant for the program. His remarks highlight the need for diverse voices in modernism narratives, which remain overwhelmingly white and Eurocentric.

Black Modernism negotiates modernist universalism and cultural specificity. The 1954 Mutual Savings and Loan Building in Birmingham, Alabama, designed by Paul Revere Williams, exemplifies this. Its façade integrates streamlined modernist geometries with nods to African American prosperity in the Jim Crow South. It embodies what architect Melvin Mitchell calls “Afro-Modernism,” a term gaining traction in architectural academia.

Despite Williams’ prolific output—around 3,000 projects—his legacy is under-archived compared to his white contemporaries. The same applies to other practitioners the Getty aims to highlight, such as J. Max Bond Jr., Norma Merrick Sklarek, and Vertner Woodson Tandy. Each navigated systemic racism while contributing to modern architecture. The challenge lies in preserving their buildings and positioning their contributions within architectural education and public consciousness. As Bryant states, “Preservation isn’t memory for its own sake; it’s about realigning what we value in the present.”

This recalibration extends beyond academia. Preservation funding often hinges on whether a structure meets predetermined standards of historical significance—criteria that frequently undervalue minority contributions. The Getty’s intervention challenges these standards, collaborating with local organizations like the African American Cultural Heritage Action Fund (AACHAF). Together, they tackle the technical challenges of conserving aging structures and the cultural urgency of counteracting erasure. The initiative’s methodology, grounded in consultation and community partnerships, offers a model for equitable preservation practices.

Critically, the program’s impact extends beyond buildings to the people and stories they represent. The rehabilitation of sites like Los Angeles’ Golden State Mutual Life Insurance Building, designed in 1948 by Williams and Louis Blodgett, stimulates inquiry into the socio-economic frameworks shaping mid-century African American architecture. Once home to one of the largest Black-owned insurance companies in the U.S., the building now faces new life as a cultural hub, thanks in part to Getty funding.

However, this work raises unresolved questions. How will conservationists navigate the tension between preserving original materials and accommodating new uses? Given finite resources, which projects will take precedence? Unlike the often-photographed white stucco of Bauhaus modernism, Black Modernism encompasses diverse materials, forms, and contexts—each requiring tailored solutions. These questions will likely shape the program’s trajectory as it expands.

The most significant consequence of Conserving Black Modernism may lie in its potential to shift architectural pedagogy. While textbooks largely omit African American contributions to modern architecture, initiatives like this make such omissions increasingly untenable. As Bryant concludes, “You can’t build a future-facing discipline without addressing its blind spots.” The Getty’s program thus aims to transform future practice while preserving past achievements.

Whether it fully achieves this ambition remains to be seen. For now, the initiative provides a crucial starting point: a more inclusive blueprint for architectural preservation, one that insists on viewing modernism’s legacy through an expanded and equitable lens.