building project

WASHINGTON — President Trump has begun demolition of the East Wing as he remakes the White House in his image, ignoring rules, breaking promises and taking a wrecking ball to the approval process in an echo of the strategies he deployed in Florida and New York as he built his real estate empire.

An excavator ripped off the facade and parts of the roof on Monday, exposing the stone shell below. Windows have been removed. A truck carried trees outside the White House gates and down Pennsylvania Avenue. A crowd gathered outside to witness the partial tear-down of the historic building — which Trump said just weeks ago would not be touched in his plans to build a new ballroom.

“Over the next few days, it’s going to be demolished,” Trump said at a White House dinner last week for donors to the 90,000-square-foot structure estimated to cost between $200 million and $250 million.

“Everything out there is coming down, and we’re replacing it with one of the most beautiful ballrooms that you’ve ever seen.”

He described the forthcoming structure as “four sides of beautiful glass.”

But similar to the rule-breaking tactics he used when pushing through changes to Mar-a-Lago in Palm Beach and building his Trump Tower in New York, Trump’s sudden and dramatic White House overhaul has been made possible by his disdain for the rules that have protected Washington’s cohesive design. To date, he hasn’t submitted plans for review to the National Capital Planning Commission, which oversees renovation and additions to the federal buildings in the capital, including the president’s historic residence.

Not that the commission — now stacked with Trump’s allies — is complaining.

This summer, the president appointed his top aides — staff secretary Will Scharf, deputy chief of staff James Blair and Office of Management and Budget energy official Stuart Levenbach — to sit on the governing body.

Scharf, a longtime loyal Trump aide who hands him his executive orders to sign, was named chairman by the president. The appointments were so sudden that Scharf, at his first commission meeting on July 10, apologized for not connecting with any of his fellow commissioners ahead of time, noting his appointment had happened the night before.

At the commission’s next meeting, on Sept. 4, Scharf launched into a defense of Trump’s building project, arguing the commission does not have jurisdiction over demolition and site preparation work for federal property; that it just deals with construction.

“I think any assertion that this commission should have been consulted earlier than it has been, or it will be, is simply false,” he said.

The commission will just “play a role in the ballroom project when the time is appropriate for us to do so,” he said.

Not so fast, say past commissioners.

Preston Bryant, a former chairman of the commission, told the Miami Herald in an email that in his nine years on the job “the Commission always works on proposed capital projects in three stages — Conceptual, Preliminary Approval, and Final Approval. Even before conceptual, there’s early consultation.”

Trump is familiar with the process. When he and his Trump Organization were remodeling the Old Post Office Pavilion into a Trump Hotel in 2014, they had to get their plans approved by the commission, which was strict in its adherence to preserving the historical structure of the building.

His team submitted a 52-page proposal showing the design changes, drawings of the new interior and exterior, and detailed the effect the changes would have on local traffic.

But now Trump has plowed on, bulldozing any opposition.

“We’ll have the most beautiful ballroom in the country,” he said Monday at an event in the East Room of the White House, apologizing for any construction noise the guests may hear. “It just started today so that’s good luck.”

The White House did not respond to a request for comment. Trump, in a post on Truth Social, said the new ballroom will be “completely separate from the White House itself, the East Wing is being fully modernized as part of this process, and will be more beautiful than ever when it is complete!”

As photos and videos of the destruction went viral on social media, his top administration aides took to their accounts to defend the project, pointing out that the ballroom was being paid for with private donations and noting other presidents have made changes to the White House.

Past presidents, however, consulted advisers and architects, along with groups like the White House Historical Association and the Committee for the Preservation of the White House in addition to working with the commission, which is currently closed as part of the government shutdown.

One former commissioner noted that Washington, D.C., is a carefully planned city and that the commission strives to keep to the original vision of Pierre L’Enfant, who designed the layout of the capitol.

“If you don’t have a review process you’re basically saying one individual can say what the capital looks like. Washington doesn’t look this way by accident,” the commissioner, who asked for anonymity in order to speak freely, said.

Trump’s history of flouting the rules

Brushing aside red tape has long been a Trump strategy when it comes to changes at historic properties.

In 2006, Trump added an 80-foot flagpole with a 5-feet-by-25-feet flag on the front lawn of Mar-a-Lago — without the proper permit or permission. Palm Beach restricts flagpoles to no higher than 42 feet and flags that are a maximum of 4 feet by 6 feet.

The town fined Trump $250 a day. He countered with a $250 million lawsuit, accusing Palm Beach of violating his First Amendment rights and publicly blasted local officials for fining his patriotic display.

Trump and the town government finally came to an agreement: Trump filed for a permit and was allowed an oversized pole that was 10 feet shorter than the original pole. In return he would donate $100,000 to veterans’ charities.

He also warred with Palm Beach over his original plan for Mar-a-Lago, which was to turn its 17 acres into a subdivision. With millions in upkeep and no income generated, the property was costing him a fortune.

The Palm Beach Town Council vetoed all his construction plans. Once again, Trump sued.

Another deal was made: Trump offered to drop his lawsuit if the town let him turn the estate into a lucrative private club. The council agreed but also set a series of requirements, including capping the membership price and its capacity along with a restriction that no one was to spend more than 21 nights a year at the property.

Trump, however, has hiked the membership fees and, after he left the White House in the first term, he named Mar-a-Lago his permanent residence, getting an exemption to the 21-night stay rule.

Similar actions took place when he built Trump Tower in New York.

In 1980, Trump acquired the historic Bonwit Teller building. He demolished the 1929 Art Deco building to build his namesake tower.

Before the project began, several prominent residents expressed concern about the original building’s limestone relief panels, considered prominent works of art.

Trump agreed to preserve the panels and donate them to The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

But as construction continued, Trump changed his mind and had the panels demolished with the building, saying they had little value and were “without artistic merit.”

It’s a slight still felt in some circles in New York society.

‘Pays total respect to the existing building’

Back in Washington, heads are shaking over the demolition of one-third of the White House structure.

After all, in July, Trump said the current building wouldn’t be touched.

“It won’t interfere with the current building. It won’t be. It’ll be near it but not touching it — and pays total respect to the existing building, which I’m the biggest fan of,” he said.

Now, in addition to the destruction of the wing, he may touch parts of the original White House. Trump on Monday indicated part of one of East Wing walls will come down to connect his ballroom to the residence.

“That’s a knockout panel — you knock it out,” he explained.

The East Wing was built in 1902 as a guest entrance and expanded in 1942 by President Franklin D. Roosevelt. It houses the offices of the first lady and her staff, the military office and the visitors office.

It’s unclear what process FDR went through. The planning commission wasn’t established until 1952. But part of the reason he had it built was to cover the underground presidential bunker which was installed for security reasons.

Trump has already made his mark on the White House. He’s added gold gilding to the Oval Office and stacked its walls with portraits. He’s moved around presidential portraits throughout the complex and added paintings of himself.

On the colonnade, which is the walkway leading from the residence to the West Wing, Trump added a photo of each American president. One exception was Joe Biden. Trump instead placed a photo of a pen, referring to his constant criticism for Biden using the auto pen for his signature during his presidency.

He paved over the Rose Garden to make it look similar to the patio at Mar-a-Lago, putting out chairs and tables with yellow umbrellas brought up from his Florida club. And he’s installed two massive flags atop large poles — one on the North Lawn and one on the South Lawn.

And there could be more changes to come.

Scharf, at his September planning commission meeting, mentioned an upcoming beautification and redesign of Pennsylvania Avenue.

He didn’t offer any details but an earlier presentation to the commission showed plans to turn the iconic avenue into a more pedestrian friendly walkway, with a national stage for events, markets and green spaces.

The Eisenhower Executive Office Building, which sits next door to the White House and houses most of the administration staff, could be in his sights. In his first term, Trump mulled adding gold leaf to the white granite building.

But, for now, Trump is working on plans to build a ceremonial arch outside of Arlington National Cemetery, on a traffic circle that sits between it and Memorial Bridge.

It would commemorate the nation’s 250th anniversary next year. The president showed off design models and drawings to the ballroom donors, telling them there were three sizes to pick from and he was leaning toward the largest.

“Whichever one would look good. I happen to think the large one,” Trump said as the group laughed. “Why are you shocked?”

The drawings show an arch similar to France’s Arc de Triomphe with columns, eagles, wreaths and a gilded, winged figure.

Trump, earlier this month, had a model of it on his desk in the Oval Office when he was speaking to reporters on another matter.

The journalists noticed the piece and asked who it was for.

“Me,” he replied.

Emily Goodin writes for The Miami Herald and Tribune News Services.

When survivors from January’s wildfires in Los Angeles County apply to rebuild their homes, their first interaction might be with a robot.

Artificial intelligence will aid city and county building officials in reviewing permit requests, an effort to speed up a process already being criticized as too slow.

“The current pace of issuing permits locally is not meeting the magnitude of the challenge we face,” Gov. Gavin Newsom said when announcing the AI deal in late April.

Some 13,000 homes were lost or severely damaged in the Eaton and Palisades fires, and many families are eager to return as fast as they can. Just eight days after the fire began and while it was still burning, the city received its first home rebuilding application in Pacific Palisades.

Wildfire recovery foundations purchased the AI permitting software, developed by Australian tech firm Archistar, and donated it to the city and county. When property owners submit applications, the software first will examine them for basic compliance with zoning and building codes, suggest corrections and provide a standardized report on the submission for human plan checkers to review.

L.A. County officials hope the software — believed to be the first large-scale use of such permitting technology nationwide after a natural disaster — will slice the time its employees now spend performing menial tasks, such as measuring building heights, counting parking spaces and calculating setbacks, said Mitch Glaser, an assistant deputy director in the county’s planning department.

“We see our planners doing things that are more impactful for our fire survivors,” Glaser said.

Disaster relief and government technology experts said they’re encouraged by the initiative. Municipal permitting is the type of highly technical, repetitive and time-consuming process that AI software could make more efficient, they said, especially as residents are expected to flood local building departments with applications to rebuild.

Still, they warned that for the AI software to be effective, the city and county would have to integrate the technology into its existing systems and quickly correct any errors in implementation. If not, the software could add more bureaucratic hurdles or narrow property owners’ options through overly rigid or incorrect code interpretations.

“This could be fabulously successful and I hope it is,” said Andrew Rumbach, a senior fellow at the Washington-based Urban Institute, where he studies disaster response. “But experimenting with technology in the context of people who’ve lost a lot is risky.”

Immediately after the fires, leaders at all levels of government pledged to waive and streamline rules for property owners to rebuild, promising that regulatory processes wouldn’t hold up residents’ return. Noting the pace of ongoing debris removal, L.A. Mayor Karen Bass has called the region’s recovery “on track to be the fastest in modern California history.” A mayoral spokesperson said that the building department is completing initial permitting reviews twice as fast as before the fire.

More than 200 Pacific Palisades property owners have submitted applications to rebuild or repair their homes, according to a Times analysis of city permitting data, with 11% approved. Last week, 24 property owners submitted applications, the highest amount since the disaster, the analysis shows.

L.A. County, which is responsible for permitting in Altadena and other unincorporated areas, has a separate system for tracking permits which the Times has not been able to independently verify. On Monday, the county listed 476 applications for zoning reviews on its data dashboard, with eight building permits approved. By Tuesday, the number of zoning reviews listed had increased to 486 while the number of building permit approvals dropped to seven.

Besides Newsom, architects, builders and homeowners have grumbled about the permitting process, expressing frustrations at what they say are confusing and inconsistent interpretations of regulations. Last week, actress Mandy Moore, whose family had multiple homes damaged or destroyed in the Eaton fire, blasted the county for “nonsensical red tape” that is making it difficult for her to rebuild.

The wildfire recovery nonprofit Steadfast LA, started by developer and former mayoral candidate Rick Caruso, took the lead on securing the Archistar software and is covering much of the up to $2-million tab for its implementation. LA Rises, the foundation started by Newsom after the fires, will pay Archistar’s $200 fee per application.

Caruso, who declined an interview request from The Times, has said that turning to AI was a no-brainer.

“Bringing AI into permitting will allow us to rebuild faster and safer, reducing costs and turning a process that can take weeks and months into one that can happen in hours or days,” Caruso said in the news release announcing the deal.

Archistar’s AI permitting software has been in development since 2018. The company has contracts with municipalities in Australia and Canada and is expanding to the United States. In the fall, after a successful pilot program in Austin, Texas, Archistar signed an agreement with the city to perform initial assessments of building projects, similar to its intended use in Los Angeles. Austin has not implemented the software yet, but city officials said they believe it could cut preliminary reviews there to one business day from 15.

Once Archistar’s program is online in L.A. County, Glaser said, officials hope it will reduce the first analysis for rebuilding projects to two or three business days from five.

It could save additional time for projects by minimizing revisions and corrections, said Zach Seidl, a Bass spokesperson.

“The biggest potential for reducing permitting time comes from improving the quality of initial plans that homeowners submit to the city,” Seidl said.

Land use consultants and architects in Los Angeles said they were happy with any technology that could hasten approvals of their projects. But they said that AI wouldn’t ease the hardest parts of the permitting process.

Architect Ken Ungar, who is working with roughly two dozen Palisades property owners who are rebuilding, said his biggest headaches come from needing multiple city departments, such as those that oversee fire safety and utilities, to sign off on a project. Applications can get stuck, he said, and even worse sometimes one department requires changes that conflict with another’s rules.

Artificial intelligence, Ungar said, “sounds great. But unless the city of L.A. changes its whole M.O. on how you get building permits, it’s not super helpful.”

The state’s Archistar deal allows the city of Malibu, where the Palisades fire destroyed more than 1,000 homes, to receive the donated software as well. Malibu officials say they’re still deciding on it, noting that the community has specialized building codes addressing development on coastal, hillside and other environmentally sensitive habitats.

Governments are right to look to technology for help in speeding up disaster permitting, Rumbach said, but they also should ensure that human plan checkers provide oversight to account for nuances in zoning and building codes.

“I hope there are people more seasoned in communicating with disaster survivors who are the face of this,” he said. “A lot of people could be frustrated because they don’t want to deal with AI. They want to deal with a person.”

Although L.A. city and county might be the first to use AI for permitting after a major disaster, experts expect the technology to become mainstream soon.

“I’m confident there is no way back,” said Sara Bertran de Lis, director of research and analytics at Johns Hopkins University’s Bloomberg Center for Government Excellence.

L.A. County expects to implement the Archistar software within six weeks after programming and testing, Glaser said. At a recent disaster recovery panel, Bass said the city will do so “in the next couple of months.”