RIP: Donnelley Erdman — a man for all seasons

“Cocaine is nature’s way of telling you to earn more money.”

If you were living in 1975 Aspen, you might remember this ironic bumper sticker. If you are living in Aspen today, you’ll surely notice the street signs edged in green metal with a distinctive gold Aspen leaf cresting the street number and name. These were both the creations of Donnelley Erdman, long-time Aspenite and valley resident who quietly passed away last year in the lower altitudes of Santa Barbara, California.

Aspen in the ’70s was a magnet for irreverent people. When our family came to town, ranchers moved livestock through town from summer to winter pasture, as Saab police cars halted traffic. Dirt streets, A-frames, dumpy miner shacks, and smoky bars were just beginning to give way to more organized developments. Donnelley moved us to a house right next to his long-time friend and schoolmate, John McBride. It was supposed to be a brief two to three year stop to design solar homes and experience the mountain life. It would become a stop-over that lasted 48-years.

Aspen has always been a Shangri-La, of sorts. People come for a season and awaken many years later befuddled by the collected wrinkles, sore knees, and a Jim Hayes silver belt buckle. Like many before him, Donnelley was enchanted, and time passed. Aspen became his home where he could enjoy meaningful interactions with fellow creatives and renegades, while still feeling the freedom of the American West that was his biography. 

Our father was born in Pasadena, California, to the daughter of a prominent Chicago printing family, who was something of a Maverick herself. On a whim, at the age of 21, she borrowed money to buy a ranch in Wyoming’s Bighorn Mountains near Sheridan. “Folly Ranch” became the happy place for the youngest of her four children. Every summer, Don learned life lessons at the hands of the ranch foreman and frontier skills from Native Americans. 

For Don, the Old West was balanced by the New West of Los Angeles — car culture, creative mashups, and urban transformation. These colliding worlds imprinted on him, leading to a career in architecture where he merged classical thinking with emerging technology.

After graduating from Princeton in 1960, Don married the love of his life, Cinda Wheeler. The couple spent their first few years of marriage in Princeton, completing his graduate thesis reviewed by the famous architect Louis Kahn. Afterwards, Don worked on many large scale projects in both New York and Boston, before teaching architecture at Rice University in Houston. In 1974, we moved to Aspen, where he jumped into the timely field of solar architecture. His residential work can still be found in Starwood and Aspen’s West End. Three of his solar homes at 905, 915, and 925 W. North St. demonstrate designs that remain relevant to this day.

Don and Cinda were both deeply engaged in the Aspen community. She was influential helping start and grow the Aspen Film Festival. He was a keystone member of Aspen’s historical preservation committee lending his steady temperament, humor, and attention to detail through the challenging years of Aspen’s growth period in the ’80s and ’90s. The two of them supported many nonprofits in the community, including ACES, Anderson Ranch, and the Art Base. As well, Don curated several art shows with the Aspen Art Museum expressing his deep interest in Southwestern Native American Art and the pop-art work of 80’s artists.

His collaborations brought him the most joy. He and Bill Lipsey designed and developed two forward thinking measurement devices — The Inchmate and the Sonic Yardstick. With Frank Nadel, their work produced numerous elegant furniture pieces to grace Don’s houses. At Anderson Ranch, many summers were spent shaping clay with Doug Casebeer and Don’s old friend, L.A. artist Kenny Price.

Don’s creativity was abundant and spanned the graphic, decorative, and other applied arts. His personality inspired not only his children, but those in the community. It’s a sad truth that one learns more about one’s parents when they pass. His family is grateful for the countless heartfelt remembrances from the people whom he touched.

He gave to Aspen and, in return, Aspen gave to him. His life was enriched by those around him — Caine, Breasted, Davies, DeWolf, Floria, Holstein, Hunt, Kohner, Linnecke, Lipsey, Lukes, Mallory, McBride, Moore, Peterson, Pfister, Wesson, Salter, Scott, Semple, Smith, Starodoj, Stirling, Strang, Teague, Thorne, Yaw, and so many others. Aspen is a storied town. However, a town is only as interesting and magical as the people who comprise it.  

The Aspen generation our father played with seemed to truly enjoy life. They found humor in its give and take. They valued the old and the new. Aspen was their perfect “skunk works project” — it provided the communal spark of a small town while enabling access to the larger world, in a manageable format. The combination produced unusual results.

Don is the father of three children and eight grandchildren — all of whom hold cherished memories of his laughter, happy disposition, and a fondness for the beguiling twinkle in his beautiful clear blue eyes. His legacy lives on in their youthful appearance, curious interests, and in the values he embodied — fairness and generosity. His wife of 64-years carries forth those values and a lifetime of memories.

Dad — we miss and love you. Thank you for crafting such a wonderful world for your family. And a special thanks to Aspen — its people made our lives so much richer. Blessings.

If you’d like to email the family, please write to family@erdman.me.