The 30 most beautiful buildings in Los Angeles with iconic architecture

We asked professors, architects and historians to name their top L.A. buildings.

John C. Portman Jr., 1977

Where do you even begin? No, really: Each entrance into this city-block–size hotel in Downtown L.A. sits on a different level of the street. Its featureless foundation and glassy cylindrical towers appear nearly identical from all angles, save for pedestrian skywalks that jut out from each direction. Venture inside the glassy hotel, known just as much for its textbook postmodernism as its star turns in films like True Lies, and you’ll find yourself lost in a labyrinth of lounges and elevator banks.

Craig Ellwood, 1976

You won’t find any roads atop the “bridge building” at the Hillside Campus, but you will find one underneath it; the school’s driveway winds underneath the ravine-spanning steel-and-glass structure. Its hillside location, stealthy profile and modernist aesthetic makes the building a top candidate for a supervillain lair, but that’s kind of a spectacular quality to possess, isn’t it?

Rafael Moneo, 2002

When the Northridge earthquake devastated the Cathedral of Saint Vibiana—a stunning sanctuary in its own right—the Catholic Church needed to find a new home in L.A. The result is a deconstructed fort with an imposing but quietly beautiful interior that’s fit for ancient kings—thanks to a budget as soaring as its faceted ceiling.

Simon Rodia, 1921-1954

These 17 towers’ construction, by a single pair of hands over a 33-year span, are part of their legend. But so is their wan, spectral beauty: They reach for the sky in an elaborate network of spindly, curved tendrils, connected with equally playful, decorous webs of lustrous found objects. The result is part folk art, part edifice and completely beautiful. The towers, which double as an arts campus today, are open for guided tours.

Welton Becket and Associates, 1956

This cylindrical tower is so closely tied with postcard pictures of sunny California that it’s hard to separate the building from the lore. (It looks like a stack of records? Purely a coincidence.) But that’s also part of its appeal; whenever you see its blade-like spire rising above the 101 (you unfortunately can’t step inside), its cool, white shades make you feel like you’re living the dream.

Thom Mayne, 2004

There’s a reason that this building—easily spotted by its street-facing “100” sign—has found its way into seemingly every car commercial. Simply put, it looks like the future we’ve been promised in movies, from its mechanical, glass and aluminum shell to its concrete courtyard, inset with horizontal neon bars.

George W. Morgan, 1887

Of the eight Victorian homes that line Heritage Square’s living history museum, the James and Bessie Hale House is the clear standout. Initially located only a few blocks from the museum, this Queen Anne and Eastlake mansion is covered with dazzling details, including stained-glass windows, a geometric brick chimney and an eye-popping amount of ornamentation. And we haven’t even touched on the lavish interior—and the fact that you can tour it gives the Hale House the edge on this list over the privately-owned Victorian homes along Carroll Avenue.

Pereira & Luckman Architects, 1961

With the Encounter Restaurant closed, the Theme Building has nothing left to do but sit there and look pretty in the center of LAX’s chaos. Well, it’s doing a pretty good job at that; its swooping, flying saucer-like shape is a product of jetsetting culture, a future that never was and one that could still be.

Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue, 1926

The city’s main library is worth a look even if you’ve no interest in borrowing books. The exterior is an Egyptian and Mediterranean beauty, topped with a dramatic, tiled pyramid tower and decorated with bas-reliefs. The most stunning features, though, reside in the second floor rotunda, with its deco-meets-arabesque dome, California history mural and globe chandelier.

Greene and Greene, 1908

This graceful house, originally built for one of the heirs of the Procter & Gamble fortune, remains one of the best examples of Greene and Greene’s Craftsman designs. Its earthy exterior is a beauty in its own right, but the handmade touches in the living spaces, from the art glass doorway to wood-trimmed chandeliers, demand closer inspection—thankfully there’s plenty of public programming to do just that.

John and Donald Parkinson, 1929

High-end department stores have dwindled, Westlake is no longer the lap of luxury and the copper turret on the Bullocks Wilshire has since tarnished green—but none of that diminishes the elegance of this Art Deco landmark. It was a department store built for the car, and even though its cash registers have been shut for decades (now it’s a law school, though you can step inside during its annual open house), its poise and strong vertical lines still catch motorists’ eyes.

Pierre Koenig, 1960

Even if you’ve never seen it in person, you’ll undoubtedly recognize the Stahl House (Case Study House #22 for you modernist fanatics) and its twinkly vista. There’s barely more to it than a roof, floor-to-ceiling windows and a swimming pool, but the Hollywood Hills house emits that magic that so many of us have found—or spend our lives chasing—in Los Angeles. Limited timed tours are offered, though they’re pricey and popular (particularly the ones around sunset).

A.C. Martin & Associates, 1965

The Department of Water and Power’s headquarters feels light, as if the entire building is floating. It practically is; the entire office is surrounded by a fountain-dotted moat. The building especially shines at night, when its two most stunning features—running water and clean light—remind us of the miracle that this natural resource-hungry city can even exist.

Charles and Ray Eames, Eero Saarinen, 1949

Designing couple Charles and Ray Eames were known for their intelligence and their joie de vivre, both of which are apparent at the Eames House (Case Study House #8) nestled in the Pacific Palisades. With its color-block exterior, environmentally-sensitive siting and impeccable interior style, it’s no surprise this modernist darling (currently only open for exterior tours) has remained one of Southern California’s most beloved residences.

Austin Parkinson and Martin, 1928

Though dwarfed in size by its contemporary neighbors, this grand, white concrete tower has stood tall as a city icon since 1928. Say what you will about the city government, but the building itself is dignified but never flashy—a noble goal in L.A. Its beauty is visible both inside and out, from the stately Spring Street courtyard to the tiled third floor rotunda, but we think it’s best experienced from above: The free observation deck on the 27th floor is an asset.

Claud Beelman, 1930

As Broadway continues its up-and-down, decade-plus journey to bounce back, the Eastern Columbia Building stands as a reminder that the Downtown street has always been beautiful. The stunning Art Deco tower never seemed to make its way into L.A. iconography, but since a major 2004 renovation it’s become a beloved landmark for Downtown-frequenting Angelenos. The turquoise finish, terra-cotta sunburst over the entrance and the blue glow of the clock tower are all headturners. You’ll have to admire them from the street, though, or one of the area’s nearby rooftop bars.

George Wyman, Sumner Hunt, 1893

The Bradbury Building’s nondescript (but still good-looking) brick exterior belies any sense of significance. Walk through the archway entrance on Broadway, though, and you’re greeted with a stunning, light-flooded alley of wood, iron and brick. You won’t be able to go any higher than the lobby level, but that’s not really an issue: From the amber glow to the wrought-iron grillwork, that first glimpse inside is simply awe-inspiring.

John C. Austin, Frederick M. Ashley, 1933

“If all mankind could look through that telescope,” declared Griffith J. Griffith, “it would change the world.” We think a simple trip to the hilltop scientific sanctuary is enough to do the trick; the dignified Art Deco building exudes quiet and calm as Los Angeles twinkles below. Back at ground level, the illuminated white museum and its trio of copper-clad domes is an inspirational landmark—what other modern metropolis can boast an observatory as a focal point of its skyline?

Frank Gehry, 2003 

As the $274-million acoustically perfect crown jewel of the Music Center, Disney Hall opened in 2003 to rave reviews. The novelty hasn’t yet worn off: Both inside and out, it’s a twisty explosion of Frank Gehry’s imagination. Stroll through the Blue Ribbon Garden as it hugs the reflective metallic exterior or listen to the L.A. Phil in the whimsically wooden auditorium; Disney Hall dazzles in every way imaginable.

John & Donald B. Parkinson, 1939

Union Station was the last of the great American rail stations to be built, at a cost at the time of $11 million. Train travel has gone in and out of fashion, but the station is just as handsome as the day it debuted: Its Mission-style exterior opens up into a grand waiting area with marble tiles, faux wood beam ceilings and Art Deco touches. For a city built around the car, Union Station feels like the most distinctly and classically Californian gateway to Los Angeles. Wander through its halls and courtyards and you’ll find a building rich with history, locomotion and—with the eventual arrival of high speed rail and a new concourse—progress.

Read our love letter to Union Station.

We love you, L.A., but these ugly buildings are just begging to meet the wrecking ball.