LA’s gigamansion boom
Richard Godwin discovers there’s a housing boom in Los Angeles. A new wave of luxury properties complete with home cinemas and helipads has transformed the landscape. Cash buyers preferred!
HE LOVES watching the dumbfounded expressions on peoples’ faces when he walks them through his mansion. “There are just no words,” says property developer Bruce Makowsky on the sun deck of the $250-million (R3,2-billion) pleasure palace he’s spent four years building in Los Angeles. “They just can’t believe there’s a house like this on Earth.”
Certainly, the notion that this is what some people will spend a quarter of a billion dollars on might leave you grasping for the right vocabulary. No 924 Bel Air Road is a 3 530-m² home over four levels, with 12 bedrooms, 21 bathrooms, an infinity pool, spa, bowling alley, cinema, $30 million (R390 million) worth of luxury vehicles and a 270 o view from Santa Monica to the San Fernando Valley. It went on the market in January and is the most expensive residence ever to be listed in the USA.
Makowsky, a fast-talking former handbag salesman from the East Coast with gold chains, designer jeans and white takkies, is the most extravagantly ambitious developer in LA. He and his wife, Kathy Van Zeeland (also in the handbag trade), have bought and built nine multimillion-dollar LA properties in the past six years – their last one sparking a bidding war between performers Jay-Z and Beyoncé and Markus Persson, creator of the computer game Minecraft. That one went for $70 million (R910 million).
But this one is on a different scale. It’s taken Makowsky four years of six-day weeks and 12-hour days and it’s highly personal to him. One of his brothers oversaw building work while another engineered the sound system. “People have told me as I’m working on this project, ‘You have a little [ film director] Steven Spielberg in you as a creator, and you have a little bit of [Apple co-founder] Steve Jobs from being so evolutionary and revolutionary’,” he says.
“Gigamansion” is the term we must now use to describe the new breed of homes that are landing like alien motherships on the fragrant hills of Bel Air, Beverly Hills and Holmby Hills – an area occasionally called the “Platinum Triangle” in honour of its out-of-control property market.
Back in 2014 a fake palace in Holmby Hills known as Fleur de Lys became the first house to be sold for more than $100 million (then R1,1 billion) when “junk-bond king” Michael Milken (now 70) reportedly paid $102 million (R1,3 billion) in cash. The 1,8-hectare estate has a 278-m² wine cellar, a grand ballroom with gold-panelled ceilings and a 182-m tree-lined driveway.
Mohamed Hadid (68), the developer father of models Gigi and Bella Hadid, sold one Bel Air property, known as Le Belvédère, to a mysterious corporate entity for $50 million (then R325 million) back in 2010. It went back on the market last year for $85 million (then R1,1 billion). It contains a 250-capacity ballroom, a Turkish bath and a 21-m infinity pool. And it’s modest next to Hadid’s upcoming 2 787-m² Bel Air mansion, Strada Vecchia.
This construction has stalled as a range of criminal charges have been brought against Hadid, including illegal use of land, building without a permit and failure to obey orders from the Los Angeles department of building and safety. Some of it was demolished by order. He claims it’s all a misunderstanding. Still, it’s expected to fetch about $200 million (R2,6 billion).
And 924 Bel Air Road will soon lose its “most expensive” tag to The One, the $500-million (R6,5-billion) residence being built down the road on Airole Way by film producer and developer Nile Niami. At 9 755 m², it’s twice the size of the White House (the house’s master bedroom alone is 511 m²) and it contains five swimming pools, a casino and “a nightclub with VIP area” (you’ve got to wonder what kind of ego would wish to rope off a VIP area in their very own home).
The Hadid-designed Palazzo di Amore in Beverly Hills went on the market for $149 million (R1,9 billion) and is now being rented out by owner Jeff Greene (62). Then there’s the Playboy mansion in Holmby Hills, which recently sold for $100 million (R1,3 billion) to Daren Metropoulos (32), son of Greek-American private equity tycoon C Dean Metropoulos (70). It came with a sitting tenant: 90-yearold Hugh Hefner.
SOUTHERN California, Makowsky is delighted to say, is on fire – he describes the activity in near apocalyptic terms. “There are four or five houses on every street that are being knocked down. That wouldn’t be going on if people didn’t want to live out here.”
It also wouldn’t be going on in quite the same way if it weren’t for the chronic housing shortage in the LA area, exacerbated by outdated zoning laws, revenue-hungry local authorities and conflicting regulations.
Makowsky doesn’t mind that too much
and insists he’s had no problems with the neighbours over the house’s four-year construction.
“They love me. Every time I come into an area the value of everyone else’s houses goes up a whole lot.”
The Bel Air Homeowners Alliance doesn’t see it that way, having repeatedly complained about “unsafe, illegal construction wackiness” ruining a neighbourhood once prized for its tranquillity.
Many locals resent the area’s rapid transformation into “Monte Carlo West”, as nonstop construction vehicles wind up narrow hillside streets to destroy the historic ’20s mansions no longer deemed large enough for today’s tycoons.
“And yes, these spec developers routinely break the law and then happily pay the fines, which usually amount to a few thousand dollars,” says one local, who’s particularly incensed by the Hadid house on Strada Vecchia Road. “Everyone knows he won’t go to jail and the illegal monstrosity will never be torn down.”
They build them because they can. And Makowsky hasn’t the shadow of a doubt he’ll find a buyer. “If you go back eight years, a 30-m boat was seen as a big boat. Today, if you don’t have a 76- to 91-m boat, you’re not one of the players. A $250-million (R3,2-billion) boat? It’s a toy! A $100-million (R1,3-billion) plane? It’s a toy! If you have that much money why shouldn’t your home be equally as nice?”
He feels people are spending more time in their homes now – what with the world being as chaotic as it is, billionaires want to retreat.
There are about 3 000 people who might conceivably be able to buy his house but Makowsky’s dream is to sell it to one of the 130 or so native Californian billionaires.
Happily, he has a unique insight into the way billionaires think and feel and has designed it so all they need to do is show up.
“I’m very fortunate that I’m exposed to all this,” he tells me. “I get to live that lifestyle so I understand what they want.”
As he lists each feature of his mansion – the ’30s Mercedes-Benz, the vast canisters of M&Ms, the swim-up tequila bar – he falls into the monotone of a racing commentator.
“We have 150 pairs of speakers outside the house; we have 300 pairs of speakers inside the house; the house is on four levels; there’s daylight on every single level; this is our 11 000-square feet (1 000-m²) play area; this is curated with the finest things in the world; we have 55 phones in the house; it comes with seven full-time staff; there are 130 art installations; there’s a $250 000 (R3,2-million) stainless-steel candy wall; these are all bespoke pieces; this is a 40-seat Dolby amphitheatre – it’s the best theatre on the planet, with 57 speakers and 16 subwoofers; everything had to be the absolute best . . .”
Has he had much interest? “Hasn’t stopped,” he snaps. And then he resumes his rhapsody. “It comes with almost $30 million (R390 million) worth of cars; it’s a passion project; this is the fastest motorcycle in the world; this is the Holy Grail of vintage cars . . . If you want a drink . . .” That would be nice! But he simply wants me to admire the bar, which wouldn’t be out of place in an Ibiza superclub. It’s overlooked by what’s said to be the world’s largest domestic TV screen. Beyoncé is singing Crazy In Love.
“We don’t let anybody use anything here. Everything has to be pristine.”
Makowsky’s relentless hyperbole begins to fall into place when you remember he used to sell handbags to America’s couch-based consumers via the teleshopping channel QVC.
Even when we settle on our Hermès cushions on the observation deck he retains the patter of someone who must make the sale before the time runs out.
HE WAS born in Providence, Rhode Island, the fourth son of an investor and an insurance broker. His parents had “great values”, he says, and were “highly motivated motivators” – his mother (I later find out) suffered from multiple sclerosis but still went skydiving.
“I think I had the greatest childhood in the world,” he says. “We didn’t have a lot of money but we had . . . stuff. We had a summerhouse on the beach. We had three or four boats. They weren’t the best boats but they were fun boats. My parents would say, ‘If you’re going on vacation, don’t take $1 000 and have a good time; take $2 000 and have a great time.’”
He was desperate to leave school and enter the “real world” of commerce, and launched his first handbag and shoe business in New York in the ’80s. He has a son, Mike (25), a screenwriter, from his first marriage.
Makowsky met Van Zeeland through business in the late ’90s and she became his employee before they married.
“I thought she was smart and attractive. I hired her not with any intention other than to have her work with me. But one thing led to another over a period of years and we ended up getting together.”
Together they built the lucrative brands KVZ and B Makowsky. “My parents said, ‘If you make great quality there will always be a buyer for it,’ ” he says. After 30 years in the trade they sold the business to a Hong Kong-based trading company in 2008 for a reported $330 million (then R3,1 billion).
The pair relocated to California where they entered the property market. They bought an Italianate villa in Malibu in 2010 for about $15 million (then R172 million) – this is where they still live – before adding a Beverly Hills mansion for $22,6 million (R259 million) a few months later.
With each house their ambitions grew, although Makowsky is proud of the fact that all their properties are located within a 16-km radius. He lists the manifold advantages of the location: the 350 days of sunshine, the sea, the lack of insects. “When I first moved here I didn’t even understand why you’d need doors and windows, it’s so fresh,” he says.
The house that really turned heads was the eight-bedroom, 15-bathroom Beverly Hills mansion at 1181 North Hillcrest Road. This featured a wall of caramel onyx and an 18-seat screening room. Jay-Z took two tours of the property before he was gazumped by Markus Persson (Persson made a higher offer).
Makowsky says he’s in regular contact with Persson but my sense is he’s holding out for Jay-Z for the new place. There’s Beyoncé memorabilia all over – and hundreds of bottles of Jay-Z’s champagne brand, Ace of Spades, among the 2 500 bottles of wine. “Honestly, I can’t comment. But it’s been really fun.”
Whoever buys the place will find Makowsky becomes their new BFF – he maintains contact with all his clients. “Our job starts when we sell the house,” he says. “If you talk to any of my past clients they’ll tell you all I care about is making people happy.”
The staff quarters are furnished with as much care (and almost as much bling). Makowsky believes in keeping his servants happy (they include a full-time masseuse and chef) – that way they keep his clients happy.
Wouldn’t he be sad if someone came in and ripped out all his meticulously sourced equipment and art? “I don’t think that’s going to happen. If someone’s going to spend this kind of money they’re going to like the art as well.” Let’s hope so.
One of the 130 installations consists of a series of syringes pushed into vials of serum representing various high-end brands: Ferrari, Hermès, Louis Vuitton, etcetera. What’s that about? “Luxury. It’s all about getting your fix of luxury.”
Another consists of animated portraits of seven dwarfs, which move as you walk down the corridor. There are also gold sculptures of firearms. “It’s wild. Feel the weight of this thing! I wanted to poke fun at things and not have everything so serious.”
There are no books but there’s a lifesize photo of a bookshelf containing various biographies of rock stars and Hollywood icons. Surely he could have afforded a few real books? “I think this is a really unique piece. I get a lot of compliments on it.”
He seems sincerely to want whoever owns it to have fun. There are handheld propellers in the pool so you don’t even need to swim up to the tequila bar – you can be dragged through the water. The helicopter is the one used in the ’80s series Airwolf but alas, there’s a catch. “You’re not allowed to land and take off. If you do, there’s a fine. So I can’t sell this house as if it’s a working helipad.”
There’s a $2-million (R26-million) entertainment system that pops up in front of the swimming pool. “If you’re sitting on a ton of cash why not enjoy it?” is his reasoning.
Do billionaires find it hard to enjoy their lives, I wonder. “I have a lot of friends who are billionaires,” he reflects. “There are some who are really happy and there are some who are really not happy. I look at the ones who are unhappy and I’m like, ‘Seriously, are you kidding
There are handheld propellers in the pool, so you don’t even need to swim up to the tequila bar
me? You have your health, you have money, you have friends and family. What can you not be happy about?’ ”
Makowsky’s parents died relatively young – his father while jogging at 58, his mother from cancer at 65 – and he says the sudden realisation of mortality affected him deeply.
“I appreciate the fact that life is a gift,” says Makowsky, who recently turned 60. “Whenever I sit down with somebody who has a lot of money I ask them, ‘Are you really enjoying your life? Are you being as good as you can be?’ ”
As for whether he’s himself a billionaire he seems annoyed I should have the impertinence to ask. “I’m not going to answer that. There are just some things the world doesn’t need to know.” Then he turns the tables. “Are you a billionaire?” he asks. I’m not. He laughs. Still, he seems keen to count me as someone who’d be interested if I did happen upon $1 billion.
“Are you enjoying hanging out here? Could this be your happy place?”
I haven’t the heart to say that no, I can’t imagine being happy at 924 Bel Air Road. I can imagine bowling a few 10 pins for a while or listlessly strumming the diamond-encrusted Telecaster guitar before simply looking out at the haze over the Pacific.
It’s lonely up here. Like a hotel where all the other guests have departed.