General Archives - Keiran Murphy

Photograph of Keiran with a tour group on Taliesin's Hill Crown. Keiran has white pants on.

Doing too many Taliesin tours

Posted on 09/15/2024 | by admin

Reading Time: 5 minutes

My post today isn’t going to be about taking too many Taliesin tours, but about giving too many of them. That’s because, you see, we’re coming into late September and I realized that the Taliesin tour guides right now may start to feel like what I wrote years ago

in my unpublished memoir, “What Time Does the 1:30 Tour Leave?”

I started giving tours in 1994 while I was in school.¹But after this, I worked full-time in the tour program during the 1995-2002 seasons.

During that time, Taliesin Preservation mostly had:

The 1-hour Hillside Studio and Theater tour,²
The 2-hour, 2-mile Walking Tour,
The House tour,

Now called the “In-Depth” House Tour. Here’s a link to a description from 2021.

And the Estate tour

a.k.a, the 4-hour tour.

Due to the lack of heat inside Taliesin, we gave interior tours at that time only from May-October.

Therefore, we were always happy when the tour season started, because

We got to

see the buildings again! That really was like seeing old friends.

And then the season really got rolling and veteran guides mostly gave House and Estate tours.

This heavy rotation of veteran guides giving tours that went into the House would go

probably STILL DO

from late June through our peak season (ending on Labor Day).

Then the kids went back to college and the tour numbers dropped

(spiking in October for “leaf season”).

This heavy House tour rotation

from June through the beginning of September could start to do funny things to the mind.

In fact,

I usually succumbed to what I call:

“tour guide’s disease”.

That is: on tour, I’d say whatever was in my head.

I’m not talking about giving my shopping list or commenting about a sweater any of my guests was wearing

I mean that,

The genius of the man and the beauty of the spaces faded

And instead, I found myself musing out loud about the bunny rabbit that had shown up on the tour; or,

a small change in the stone that I’d never noticed,
an answer to a question someone had asked me earlier that day,
and talking about Sherpa, who was a Taliesin Kitty for years.

Then in one particular year, the tour scheduler

No, not you, Bob

basically xeroxed the tour schedules.

That is,

she gave us each the same tour schedule week after week.

In fact, one of the Taliesin tour guides gave only House tours through July and August. In other words, all this guide gave was: two, two-hour House tours, five days a week, for eight solid weeks.

I saw the effect this schedule had on her by the end of that summer.

Because

as I was also on this “xeroxed” schedule, I gave House tours two days a week; one Estate tour; and for the other two days I was a Taliesin House Steward.

Our collective experience was like walking up to a mirror and saying your name over and over until it becomes an inexpressible concept.

Sometimes, this guide would be talking about something while looking in a completely different direction. Because OF COURSE she knew exactly where that table, piano, Japanese screen, or bed was in each of the rooms.

Also,

sometimes she walked past me while I held the door open for her and visitors to walk into Taliesin’s Guest Bedroom:

and she’d whisper “God, get me off this tour” to me as she walked over the threshold.

Now, my suggestion for guides (and myself) in this case

giving the same tour over and over

is to “vary your tours”: find some aspect about Wright, or his ideas or buildings to explore.

which is why what I talked about on tours was sometimes completely different in September than what it had been in May.

However, that summer was special, too.

Because of the weather.

It was warm.

Not dangerously hot most of the time, but through the bulk of the summer, the weather seemed a consistent 85F [29C] or so.

Sometimes it was warmer, and sometimes it was cooler, but the rest of the time, it was 85F.

And dry.

So, every day was hot.

Cloudless.

Hot.

Cloudless.

Hot, perhaps a little humid, cloudless.

all the while we were surrounded by dying crops and brown grass.

This repetition made us all a little loopy.

And for me? I was giving so many House/Estate tours and listening to so many House/Estate tour guides in such heat that my internal censor had begun to malfunction.

I do remember

when this problem hit home.

I was giving a House tour and was on the stone hearth in front of the Living Room fireplace (like you see in the photo from 1955, below):

Color photograph taken of bench and fireplace in Taliesin living room, 1955. — Courtesy of the Huntington Library, San Marino, California.
Call Number: photCL MLP 1266

A fireplace, inglenook and flagstone floor seen in my post, “1940s Change in Taliesin’s Living Room“

I had either just received a question regarding the furniture in the room,

or had just come to that subject in my tour narrative.

Do you know that at Taliesin, there is said to be only one piece of furniture from the interior that survived the 1914 fire? It’s a bench that is, today, behind the dining table in the room and you can see it in the photo below:

The bench is one of two on either side of the table in the photograph above by Taylor Woolley.

While I was speaking, I voiced the thought I’d previously had about that bench:

“that doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. If a guy is chasing you through a burning building with an ax, are you going to think, ‘Oh, yeah, got to save this bench over here.’”?

I was speaking these words and

a voice in my head off to the side was asking me:

“Keiran. Dear. What the f**k are you saying?”

While my lapse in judgement caused me to rethink my phrasing, several days after my comment, the heat broke in two of the most ferocious thunderstorms I had ever personally witnessed. Two large cloud bursts each lasting an hour and a half brought 7 inches of rain.

In addition, the manager finally scheduled all of us for more Hillside and Walking tours.

So that broke the spell.

Published September 15, 2024
Someone from Taliesin Preservation took the photograph at the top of this post. It shows me with a group while I was giving a tour. I’m standing in the middle in white pants. You can also see this image in my post, “Tour Guides and Trust“.

Note:

1. you can read about the guy I was writing my Master’s thesis on at that time, here.

2. formerly called the “Hillside Home School Tour”, but we changed the name by the mid-1990s after some people got very angry when they found out they weren’t going to the Taliesin residence.

Flower in the Crannied Wall at Taliesin

Posted on 09/05/2024 | by admin

Reading Time: 5 minutes

I posted today because I want to talk about the “Flower in the Crannied Wall” statue at Taliesin.

She was originally designed for Frank Lloyd Wright’s Susan Lawrence Dana residence in Springfield, IL (1902-04).

Sculptor Richard Bock make her in terra cotta for Wright and she was placed inside, near the front door of the Dana house, like you see in the photo below:

There she is looking really tiny.
I got this screengrab from their site.

Bock later told architectural historian Donald Hoffmann that Wright told him what he envisioned for the sculpture. Bock worked until he “eventually felt very sure” he got a statue that Wright had imagined.

In the sculpture, Bock created a nude woman “issuing from a structure of crystals” that are based on the abstraction of Wright’s motif for the Dana House: the sumac tree.¹You can see this in the tower in the pic below:

I took this photo from page 72 of the book of essays about Taliesin edited by Narciso Menocal: Taliesin 1911-1914, Wright Studies, Volume One.

“Flower in the Crannied Wall” is the name of a poem by Alfred Tennyson that’s on her back. Someone is contemplating a flower they’ve taken out of a wall and using it as a way to understand God, nature, and man.

I put a link to the poem, here.

When Bock showed the architect this sculpture, Wright

“beamed and said,

‘You have done it, Dicky; you have done it. This is going to make you famous!”²

Wright had a plaster cast made of the original, then brought her out to Taliesin really early. In fact, you can see her at Taliesin even before they put steps up to the Tea Circle:

She later showed up in some postcards, like the one below:

Published with permission from Patrick Mahoney. This photo is on p. 41 of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Taliesin: Illustrated by Vintage Postcards, by Randolph C. Henning.

“Flower” stayed there until at least 1921, when a photographer from Henry Fuermann and Sons took Taliesin photos for an article about Wright in a magazine.

Photo from my copy of the book, The Life-Work of the American Architect Frank Lloyd Wright (1965; Santpoort, Holland: C. A. Mees, 1925).

I don’t know why, but Wright apparently moved her from the Tea Circle by the time of Taliesin’s second fire.

So, where did she go?

From photos it looks like he kept her, at least sometimes, near Taliesin’s entry gates on County Road C (the same gates seen on tours today going up to the house).

Wright also sent the photographer from Fuermann and Sons down there to photograph her in the late 1920s. I put one of those photos from one of my books, below:

This photo comes from Frank Lloyd Wright: Selected Houses, v. 2, Taliesin, p. 46.³

However, if you want to see a better version of it, check out the Journal of the Organic Architecture + Design Archives with Fuermann Photographs from 2018.

Plus,

Wright put her a couple of times on the dam at Taliesin’s pond.

Yes, there WILL be a pond and waterfall at Taliesin again.
I’ve been told that the work was done and approved and they’re just waiting for the written permission from the Wisconsin DNR.

Here’s a photo from the early 1920s when she was on Taliesin’s dam:

Luckily, she survived.

coz, man!, the guy could be brutal with his artifacts.

When I started giving tours she was down by Taliesin’s Root Cellar. Fellowship member, Wes Peters, told the Administrator of Historic Studies for the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation that she had arms when he became an apprentice in ’32. He thought that “Flower” ended up by the Root Cellar by the 1950s. At some point she also lost her arms and the top of her tower.

I took a photo of her at that spot in 1994, below:

When she was there, we often stopped on the House tour, talked about the statue and sometimes told people our nickname for her: “Crannie de Milo”.

And,

yes,

I might have subjected more than a few people to my complete recital of “Flower in the Crannied Wall”.

It’s not a really long poem, but… still.

in my defense it took me a while to shed my overt remnants of Graduate School.

…. At least I stopped bringing in Narciso Menocal’s interpretation of the statue after the first season… or two.

Also in the 1990s, they did a preservation assessment of her:

It says in part:

The sculpture has extensive cracks, breaks, and old repairs. The old glue is smeared with dirt, and has discolored, disturbing the visual integrity of the surface…. The head is sagging forward and could fall.

The plaster … is cracking on the brow and arms….

A photograph of where “Flower” used to stand was taken in 2018 on a tour by a photographer named Stilhefler. The photo is posted on Wikimedia Commons and gives you a good view, including the walkway to the Root Cellar beyond the stone archway:

“Flower” was restored and returned in 2014. And for the first time in its existence, that original plaster cast was placed inside to protect her from the elements. She now stands in Taliesin’s Drafting Studio on the box near the vault.

What the hell, Keiran – are you trying to make me crazy?! I was at Taliesin this summer and SHE’S OUTSIDE BY THE TEA CIRCLE!!

JUST SO YOU KNOW: When you go to Taliesin today, what you’re seeing outside is a concrete copy of her.

If they’d listened to me, I’d probably want her back near the Root Cellar. But I think she’d get kind of janky down there.

Originally published September 5, 2024.
In 2021, I took the photo of her in Taliesin’s Drafting Studio at the top of this post.

Notes:

1. “Taliesin, the Gilmore House, and the Flower in the Crannied Wall,” by Narcisco G. Menocal. In Taliesin 1911-1914, Wright Studies, Volume One, ed. Narciso Menocal (Southern Illinois University Press, Carbondale and Edwardsville, Illinois, 1992), 70.

2. From Hoffmann’s dissertation, “Chicago Sculptor Richard W. Bock: Social and Artistic Demands at the Turn of the Twentieth Century”, 208. This is quoted in “Taliesin, the Gilmore House, and the Flower in the Crannied Wall,” by Menocal in “Wright Studies, Volume One”, 74.

3. Text by Bruce Brooks Pfeiffer, edited and photographed by Yukio Futagawa (A.D.A. Edita, Tokyo, 1990).

The wedding anniversary of Frank Lloyd Wright and Olgivanna

Posted on 08/24/2024 | by admin

Reading Time: 4 minutes

Frank Lloyd Wright standing with daughters Svetlana and Iovanna, while his wife, Olgivanna, looks at the photographer. Wright’s sister, Maginel, sits behind them with the dog. Judging from Iovanna’s age, I think this was taken in the summer of 1930-32. The group is seated at Taliesin’s Tea Circle steps. I can’t find an early photo of just the Wrights, so I thought I’d put one in here with mostly their nuclear family.

Being in the Wright world means that you know a smorgasbord of things, along with certain dates:

and

August 25.

This was the day in 1928 that Frank Lloyd Wright and Olgivanna Lazovich Milanoff got married (here’s the link to the wedding announcement).

So, today

I’m going to include quotes from Olgivanna or Frank Lloyd Wright about their wedding, or each other.

Here is Olgivanna’s writing in The Life of Olgivanna Lloyd Wright: From Crna Cora to Taliesin; from Black Mountain to Shining Brow.

This was the book compiled and edited by Maxine Fawcett-Yeske, Ph.D. and Bruce Brooks Pfeiffer, D.H.L

Wedding

At last we awoke on the sunny morning of the long-awaited day of our wedding…. The ceremony was held on the lovely patio under a blue sunny sky. Frank was dressed in white… and I had a purple afternoon gown sprinkled with a gold pattern and a wreath of lavender flowers around my head. When the minister asked the question, “in sickness and in health?”

Frank answered very quietly, “Yes, I have and I will.”

…. then a memorable telegram came from Darwin D. Martin, “Taliesin open for your return.” The joy that went through us lifted us up…. It was Taliesin we saw, the hills, the meadows, the cows chewing benignly in the sun. We embraced each other; the children bounced around us. A cycle of our life was closing, and we were about to enter another… – re-establishing our life at Taliesin, after years of wandering.

The Life of Olgivanna Lloyd Wright (ORO Editions, 2017), 101, 102.

And here’s

some of the nice things that Wright wrote about Olgivanna in the 1943 edition of his autobiography.

The version of the 1943 autobiography that you can get via Amazon is through a small bookseller because I think it hasn’t been printed in awhile. But if you want to see it RIGHT NOW, you can read it online at Archive.org, the Internet Archive.

Wright and Olgivanna met in late November 1924 by chance at a ballet matinee,¹ and spoke during and afterward:

… I must have met her—somewhere? But no, no one like her—that I could remember–…. She spoke in a low musical voice…. [p. 510] No longer quite so strange, the emissary of Fate, mercy on my soul, from the other side of the known world, bowed her head to my invitation to tea at the nearby Congress. She accepted with perfect ease without artificial hesitation.

I was in love with her.

It was all as simple as that….

Frank Lloyd Wright, An Autobiography, new and revised ed. (New York: Duell, Sloan, and Pearce, 1943), 509.

And he writes heart-catchingly

a few pages later:

Just to be with her uplifts my heart and strengthens my spirit when the going gets hard or when the going is good.

…. I found that the girl who was qualified by years of hard, patient trying to understand, inspired by ideas similar to my own, was qualified to be an imaginative vivid inspiration and a real mate.

Whatever she undertook, she never shirked.

And strangely enough—or is it so strange—she, whose parents were Montenegrin dignitaries, had pictures of her Montenegrin forebears that looked just like my Welsh forebears….

She is brave and has the heart of a lioness.

No, I think we mated as planned behind the stars—just right. I don’t even wish I were younger because we both seem to add up to just about the right age for us, and I admire maturity much more than youth.

Frank Lloyd Wright, 512, 513.

Posted August 24, 2024.
The photo at the top of this page was on the cover of the book, Frank Lloyd Wright Remembered, ed. Patrick J. Meehan. The photo is from the Frank Lloyd Wright Trust.

Notes:

1. Yes, I know that if you get “the Fellowship book” (The Fellowship: The Untold Story of Frank Lloyd Wright and the Taliesin Fellowship, by Friedland & Zellman), you read how Olgivanna met Wright as part of a plan by Gurdjieffians (followers of George Gurdjieff) in the U.S. But while

YES

the book has over a hundred pages of Endnotes, I concluded after my first read that you’ve got to read every note to check on what they’re writing.

Because,

while they’re almost obsessed with proving that Olgivanna was pushed in front of Wright so fans of Gurdjieff in the U.S. could recreate his philosophical community, the easy conclusions they come up with in the text don’t always match the Endnotes. Did Olgivanna meet Wright at the ballet in 1924 because Jerome Blum (a friend who Wright wrote about in his autobiography) arranged for the meeting? Well, Endnote 95 on page 618 (of the 1st edition of The Fellowship book) says, “There is no evidence of any relationship among Olgivanna, Jerome Blum, and Waldo Frank, other than through Gurdjieff connections.” And that’s just one of the places where the book’s text is different from an Endnote.

Statements after the murders at Taliesin in 1914

Posted on 08/13/2024 | by admin

Reading Time: 6 minutes

August 15, this coming Thursday, marks 110 years since 7 people were inexplicably murdered at Frank Lloyd Wright’s home, Taliesin, by his servant, Julian Carlton.

I’ve written about it a couple of times¹ and had not planned on writing anything today.

But I’ve gathered a lot of information over the years and,

in the spirit of “preservation by distribution“,

I decided to put up a post with the statements by the survivors, or related parties, that appeared in the newspapers.

I think this is kosher, since I’m publishing news that was written 110 years ago.

Just so you know, sometimes the stories spell Julian’s last name as “Carleton” and I decided to keep those misspellings without correcting them; writing “[sic]” after each misspelling gets distracting. Additionally, one story refers to Wright’s partner, Mamah Borthwick, as “Mrs. Borthwick”.

Herbert Fritz’s narrative of what happened

He was one of Wright’s draftsmen. He survived by jumping out of a window when he noticed the fire, but before Carlton could attack. As a result of his relative lack of injuries (he broke his arm), Fritz gave the most complete description of what happened.

This first appeared in the The Chicago Daily Tribune on August 16, 1914:

Story of Survivor.

“I was eating in the small dining room off the kitchen with the other men,” said Fritz. “The room, I should say, was about 12 x 12 feet in size. There were two doors, one leading to the kitchen and the other opening into the court. We had just been served by Carleton and he had left the room when we noticed something flowing under the screen door from the court. We thought it was nothing but soap suds spilled outside.

“The liquid ran under my chair and I noticed the odor of gasoline. Just as I was about to remark the fact a streak of flame shot under my chair, and it looked like the whole side of the room was on fire. All of us jumped up, and I first noticed that my clothing was on fire. The window was nearer to me than the other door and so I jumped through it, intending to run down the hill to the creek and roll in it.

“It may be that the other door was locked. I don’t know. I didn’t think to try it. My first thought was to save myself. The window was only about a half a foot from the floor and three feet wide and it was the quickest way out.

Arm Broken by Fall.

“I plunged through and landed on the rocks outside. My arm was broken by the fall and the flames had eaten through my clothing and were burning me. I rolled over and over down the hill toward the creek, but stopped about half way. The fire on my clothes was out by that time and I scrambled to my feet and was about

Cont’d, p. 6 column 1

to start back up the hill when I saw Carleton come running around the house with the hatchet in his hand and strike Brodelle, who had followed me through the window.

“Then I saw Carleton run back around the house, and I followed in time to see him striking at the others as they came through the door into the court. He evidently had expected us to come out that way first and was waiting there, but ran around to the side in which the window was located when he saw me and Brodelle jump out.

“I didn’t see which way Carlton went. My arm was paining me, and I was suffering terribly from the burns, and I supposed I must have lost consciousness for a few moments. I remember staggering around the corner of the house and seeing Carleton striking at the other men as they came through the door, and when I looked again the negro was gone.”

Statement by William Weston in The Detroit Tribune on August 16:

Weston was Wright’s carpenter. He followed Fritz and another victim, Emil Brodelle, out of the window. Carlton gave him a glancing blow, so he survived. However, Carlton did murder Weston’s 13-year-old son Ernest. Ernest and two others (David Lindblom and Thomas Brunker) were attacked exiting through the door on the opposite side of the room:

“As each one put his head out,” said Weston, “the negro struck, killing or stunning his victim. I was the last. The ax struck me in the neck and knocked me down and I guess he thought he had me, because he ran back to the window and I got up and ran. When I looked back, the negro had disappeared.[“]

Unfortunately, that’s it. Although he was probably not able to talk since his son died later on the 15^th.

Gertrude Carlton quoted in the Escanaba Daily Press on August 18:

Authorities found Gertrude Carlton, Julian Carlton’s wife, innocent of any involvement in the crime. Two weeks later, she was allowed to leave. She took a train to Chicago and was never heard from again.

“I don’t know why Julian did it,” she said. “He must have been crazy. I think he was. He had just served dinner, and I saw him cleaning a white rug in a pan of gasoline out in the courtway. He had his pipe in his mouth, and I saw him light a match.

“The next thing I knew the kitchen was in flames, and I saw Julian running toward the barn with a hatchet in his hand. I ran downstairs to the cellar and climbed from a window.”

The woman was arrested while walking on the road to town. She said her husband had been moody and “acting queer” of late.

“I woke up several times at night and found him sitting up,” she declared. “I would ask him what was the matter and he would say that workmen around the place were trying to ‘do’ him. That was why he made me tell Mrs. Borthwick we would leave Saturday because it was lonely for me in the country.”

Wright was in Chicago,

finishing up his Midway Gardens commission when he found out about the fire. Here’s the Chicago Tribune again on Aug. 16:

Tells of Crime.

Mr. Wright was notified of the tragedy at his office in the Orchestra building by long distance telephone.

Mr. Wright almost collapsed when the news first reached him. He got the tragic long distance telephone message while at Midway Gardens, the new south side amusement park, which he designed.

“This is Frank Roth at Madison,” came a voice over the wire. “Be prepared for a shock. Your wife—that is, Mrs. Cheney—the two children, and one of your draftsmen have been killed by Carleton.

“Carleton set fire to the bungalow and got away. He must have gone crazy. A posse is chasing him. You’d better get to Spring Green right away.”

Roth, from whom the message came, is a friend of the architect.

Subsequently Wright received a telegram from Spring Lake signed with the initials of Mrs. Cheney—of Mamah Borthwick, or as she now calls herself

“Come as fast as possible; serious trouble,” was her message.

“Frank Roth” is an unknown person and no one has found the telegram. “Spring Lake” is wrong. It should be Spring Green.

Here’s the Chicago Tribune on Wright’s statements before he came back to Wisconsin on the train with his son, John:

Unable to Talk Coherently.

The architect was so distraught he could not tell a coherent story to the detectives.

“The Carletons, Julian and his wife, were the best servants I have ever seen,” he said. “The wife cooked and Julian was a general handyman. They were Cuban negroes, and Julian especially seemed to have an intelligence above the average and a good education for one of his class.

“They had not been engaged permanently and were to have quit our employ today. Julian was to have started for Chicago on the 7:45 train this morning. The train would have reached the city shortly after 1 o’clock, and he was to have visited my office to get his wages.

“Three days ago, when I last saw him, he seemed perfectly normal. He must have lost his mind—and yet I cannot believe that the news is true. The fact that the telegram was signed M.B.B. was received after the alleged murders buoys my hopes.”

Paul Hendrickson did some good work to show that Julian Carlton was not from Cuba or Barbados, which was repeated in other newspaper stories at that time. In his book, Plagued by Fire, Hendrickson makes the case that Carlton was from Alabama.

First published August 13, 2024.
A.S. Rockwell took the photograph at the top of this post on the day of, or the day after, the fire. The photograph in on Wikimedia Commons and is in the public domain. See here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Taliesin_After_Fire.jpg for information about the origin of the photograph.

Note:

1. if only to tell you that Carlton didn’t serve his victims soup!

Frank Lloyd Wright's bedroom. Photo by Maynard Parker, Huntington Library-Parker Collection.

Frank Lloyd Wright’s Blue Shag Rug

Posted on 07/28/2024 | by admin

Reading Time: 5 minutes

Color photo taken in Wright’s bedroom at Taliesin, 1955. I don’t think you can miss the blue shag rug in the photo’s foreground.

He didn’t have blue suede shoes, but he did have a blue shag rug on the floor of his Wisconsin bedroom.

Someone asked about this the other day at Facebook, so I thought I’d write about the shag rug in today’s post. It might save some time, since people often don’t believe on Taliesin tours that he had blue shag.

I grew up in a time in which people liked shag. While today we associate it with water beds and 1970s sitcoms, there’s at least one manufacturer in Australia that’s currently making them. They’re out of the country so I’m sure they’re up on the latest trends:

Contemporary photo of a brown shag rug with a porcelain tiger on the edge of it.

And, like many things I’ve learned at Taliesin, studying the story of shag rugs taught me something new.

Here’s a bit from Boutique Rugs.com about shag rug history:

Ancient Origins

Historians trace the origins of shag rugs back to Ancient Greece, the Middle East, and Central Asia, though their definitive starting point is unclear. Back then, shag rugs were usually made of woven goat hair…. In contrast to the decorative rugs that were also prominent at the time, Flokati rugs served to provide people with warmth and kept them comfortable as they walked around or sat on the ground. Their utilitarian purpose meant they were not strictly limited to the elites of society.

Boutique Rugs.com says that this utilitarian quality of shag rugs made them popular in the 1960s and ’70s. Maybe that’s why many have a bad taste in their mouth about them today.

maybe Millenials and Generation Z are into them

Although, the current disdain wasn’t confined to Taliesin tour visitors.

When I worked there, one guide insisted that the blue shag was all the doing of Wright’s wife, Olgivanna.

if any of you edit Wikipedia pages, could you read the page about Olgivanna? I added citations and changed the “tone” (I think), but “Wikipedians” frown on people who improve the articles then removing the warnings that had been placed there. If it’s good to go, get rid of that warning, kthxbye.

Hence, I gave John as much evidence of Wright’s ownership and use of the shag rug as I could. In my vain effort to convince John that Wright did what he wanted [gorramit], I got the color photograph by Maynard Parker that’s at the top of the page.

(a crop of this image is in another post I put up over a year and a half ago)

Plus, Pedro Guerrero (Wright’s preferred photographer) took a couple of photos showing Wright’s bedroom, and the shag, in the 1950s:

Looking south in Wright’s bedroom, 1952. Published in Picturing Wright: An Album From Frank Lloyd Wright’s Photographer, p. 76.

Yet, there’s still more

to the Taliesin shag-story.

This started in the 1970s.

Apparently, someone “cut a deal” and acquired lots of shag (much of it blue). In fact when I started at Taliesin, blue shag was all over the place.

It had the vibrancy of the character of Grover on Sesame Street:

An image of Grover from the Muppet Wiki: an encyclopedia of all things Jim Henson, Sesame Street, the Muppet Show and the Muppet Studio.

Moreover, there was blue shag on the floors in almost every room that people saw at Hillside Including on the floor of the Theater Foyer.

Which I guess made the stone floor feel nicer in the spring when it’s still cold.

It was also at Taliesin.

on the floor in the Entry Foyer (the first room you walked into),
the Loggia Fireplace,
the Garden Room,
and was a runner that went all the way from Taliesin’s Living Room to Wright’s bedroom.

So, when you got to Wright’s Bedroom, everyone would compliment this better looking shag.

But this shag rug from the ’70s had a rubber backing. And when you removed the rugs from a stone floor, about a ½ inch of limestone or sandstone had disintegrated underneath it.

How do I know this?

Because I was one of the folks who removed it, of course.

As I recall,

one season, an apprentice (a.k.a. a student) at the Frank Lloyd School of Architecture removed the piece in the Hillside Drafting Studio. It acted as a border when you walked into the room with your tour groups.

Then, before next season,

the head Taliesin tour guide, Craig, decided to remove the rug on the floor of Hillside’s Dana Gallery.

He confided that if anyone in the Taliesin Fellowship protested at the removal, we’d put it back.

They didn’t say anything.

Then we tackled the shag in the Hillside Theater and Hillside Foyer.

that’s when I found little dust piles of limestone that had been under the shag.

In the following tour seasons, pieces disappeared from the public and private spaces at both Hillside and the Taliesin structure.

Finally,

the only shag left was in Wright’s bedroom.

Here’s a photo below that was taken in Wright’s bedroom in early May 1959. The apprentice who took it, Robert Green, had just arrived back from Arizona. He had entered the Fellowship the previous November, so the spring of 1959 would have been his first time seeing Taliesin. Fortunately, he took these color images before he left the Fellowship, and someone acquired them over a dozen years ago.

You can see in the photos that the Fellowship hadn’t quite known what to do with Frank Lloyd Wright’s Bedroom, so they just kept everything in the same place while adjusting to their new world.

Taken in Frank Lloyd Wright’s Bedroom looking south. Wright’s bed is behind the photographer.
William Blair Scott, Jr. Collection at the OA+D Archives. Permission from Bill Scott.

First published July 29, 2024.
The photograph at the top of this post was taken by Maynard Parker in 1955 and is available on this web page.

Drawing of an elevation of the Guggenheim Museum. The Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation Archives (The Museum of Modern Art | Avery Architectural and Fine Arts Library, Columbia University, New York), #4305.629.

Frank Lloyd Wright’s design of the Guggenheim Museum

Posted on 07/04/2024 | by admin

Reading Time: 6 minutes

Drawing of the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York City.

My post this week is going to be about where Wright designed the Guggenheim Museum

He designed it in New York City, you silly!

No. I mean:

in which of his studios did Wright first draw the plan for the museum?

See, the Guggenheim is one of Wright’s most famous buildings, but the story of its commission and design isn’t the cinematic

possibly apocryphal

story of Wright drawing of Fallingwater in two-and-a-half hours while the client drove from Milwaukee.

And the tale took a bit longer.

And while Wright received the commission in 1943—looong story short—it was still being built when he died in 1959.

The biz on the Gugg:

While there’s no question he designed it in a Wisconsin studio

He couldn’t go to Taliesin West in the early 1940s because of gasoline and rubber rationing,

I’ve never come across any apprentice remembering Wright first envisioning its plan, or talking about his ideas for it.

Therefore: I’ve been trying to find the exact studio where Wright first put pencil to paper. Like:

Did he do it in the Taliesin studio?

Or in the studio at Hillside?

This is a photo that I took in the Hillside drafting studio in April 2006. While there are items on the tables, I think that for the most part no one in the Taliesin Fellowship or at the School of Architecture was at that time currently in residence. Even in 2006 they usually didn’t “land” in Wisconsin until May.

Yet, when I first started in tours, I probably thought he drew it at Hillside.

After all, Hillside had his main studio there for decades as of the late 1930s.¹

Yet

In 1995, former apprentice Curtis Besinger published Working With Mr. Wright: What It Was Like. That came out in ’95

Besinger wrote

that,

by the end of December 1942 there were only eleven of us remaining at Taliesin.

Curtis Besinger, Working With Mr. Wright, 139-140.

Besinger wrote that there were less people in The Taliesin Fellowship due to World War 2.² So then I thought maybe Wright only used the studio at the Taliesin structure.

But then

I read Taliesin Diary by Priscilla Henken. That came out in 2012.

She and her husband were at Taliesin in 1942-43.

In her diary on July 9, 1943, she wrote that Wright went to New York City because:

“It’s quite definite that FL [sic] has signed the contract for the Guggenheim museum and Robert Moses is showing him the sites.”

Taliesin Diary: A Year with Frank Lloyd Wright, by Priscilla Henken (W.W. Norton & Co., New York, London, 2012), 191.

So I thought again. She wrote this entry in July. So maybe they had moved to the Hillside studio for the summer?

Well, I told myself: do what you always do:

CHECK THE DAMNED PHOTOS.

Here’s one in Taliesin Diary taken in 1942-43:

While Fellowship members practiced choir in the space, you can see 2 drafting tables that Wright or others could use .

Further, I read from the book The Architecture of Frank Lloyd Wright³ by Neil Levine. On page 320 in Chapter 10: “The Guggenheim’s Logic of Inversion”, Levine wrote that, during the summer of 1943, “no drawings exist” of the Guggenheim “from this preliminary stage”.

which, okay, means I didn’t have to look at photos; but it’s still neat to see. You should get the book. Hey, don’t cry to me if you don’t see the book for yourself.

And while the Guggenheim’s building site hadn’t yet been chosen by fall 1943, archives director Bruce Brooks Pfeiffer identified an early sketch from September 1943. That’s drawing 4305.002, below:

Neil Levine also posted Wright’s telegram

to the person who encouraged Solomon Guggenheim to contact Wright. That was Guggenheim’s Curator, Hilla Rebay:

BELIEVE THAT BY CHANGING OUT IDEA OF A BUILDING FROM HORIZONTAL TO PERPENDICULAR WE CAN GO WHERE WE PLEASE. WOULD LIKE TO PRESENT THE IMPLICATIONS OF THIS CHANGE TO MR. GUGGENHEIM FOR SANCTION.

Written by Wright to Rebay, December 30, 1943, Microfiche ID# G054C06.

According to Levine,

Rebay encouraged Wright to expand his building plans. This way, perhaps “they would entice Guggenheim into building….”

The Architecture Of Frank Lloyd Wright, 321.

In January 1944, Wright sent a communication to Rebay that:

[T]he antique Ziggurat has great possibilities for our building. We will see. We can use it either top side down or down side top.’ …”

and

“we’ll have some fun with the modern version of a Ziggurat.”⁴

Then, in the book,

Building With Wright: An Illustrated Memoir, Wright’s clients, Herbert and Katherine Jacobs, gave us an idea of how Wright was developing things in early 1944. Herbert Jacobs (who wrote “Building With…”) relayed how the two had driven to Taliesin in February 1944 to see the plans for their second Wright house.

Herbert Jacobs wrote in the book that as the couple waited for Wright in the Taliesin studio that day (February 13), they saw “no less than eight colored sketches which we learned later were of the proposed Guggenheim museum.”⁵

It seems that, in this early design process, Wright was playing around with how to design the Guggenheim. As a building that got larger near the earth (like ancient Ziggurats), or a ziggurat that is larger up top than at the bottom.

Wright proposed this idea to Hilla Rebay as he developed the design for the Guggenheim, writing again that:

“We can use it either top side down or down side top.“

He meant that he could use the figure of a ziggurat, like in the drawing they made below:

The Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation Archives (The Museum of Modern Art | Avery Architecture and Fine Arts Library, Columbia University, New York).
btw: this is not Photoshop joke on my part. This is an actual image of a real drawing of the Guggenheim. Although I don’t think the intense pink color was seriously contemplated. But in a way, pulling out the idea that Wright might have through about a pink Gugg is like a card you can pull out of your deck. Similar to “Frank Lloyd Wright’s son designed Lincoln Logs.”

Or design the Guggenheim Museum like you see in the drawing at the top of this page: larger at the top.

Obviously the later idea worked and I used to tell people on my tours that neither men walked into the completed building.

First published July 4, 2024.
The number of the drawing at the top of this post is 4305.629. You can find it online here.

Notes:

1. I know that thanks to former apprentice Kenn Lockhart and Indira Berndtson (retired administrator of historic studies, collections and exhibitions for the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation). “Indira” interviewed “Kenn” on July 27, 1990. They started the interview in the Taliesin studio and Kenn explained that when he applied in 1939 (c. July 5) to be an apprentice that all of the drafting was done at Taliesin’s drafting studio. Then he said, when he started his apprenticeship

“[O]n July 8, one week later, the [Hillside] drafting room floor was finished and everything was set up for drawing.“

Regarding the move to the Hillside studio:

“So July 8th, 1939 was the big move from here [the Taliesin studio]. And then he used this for client interviews and so forth….”

p. 15 of the transcribed interview.

2. Some were drafted into the service; some others signed up (like Pedro Guerrero). But still others were in CO camps or jail. “CO” camps were for conscientious objectors. In fact, Besinger wasn’t there for 3 years after being put in jail in 1943. The Federal Bureau of Investigation apparently investigated Wright, trying to discern whether or not he was influencing these young men to be against the war effort. Wright biographer Meryle Secrest showed that the FBI concluded that Wright saw the two world wars as an example of British imperialism; and therefore, he wasn’t un-American: just anti-British. [Meryle Secrest. Frank Lloyd Wright: A Biography (Alfred A. Knopf, New York City, 1992), 264.]

3. Princeton University Press, Princeton, 1996.

4. Prof. Levine quoted from the book Frank Lloyd Wright: The Guggenheim Correspondence, ed. Bruce Brooks (Press at California State University, and Southern Illinois University Press; in Fresno, California and Carbondale and Edwardsville, Illinois; 1986) for the letters from Wright to Rebay. The letter that Levine quoted from was written January 26, 1944 and appeared in Guggenheim Correspondence, 42.

5. Building With Wright: An Illustrated Memoir, by Herbert Jacobs, with Katherine Jacobs (Chronicle Books: A Prism Edition, San Francisco, 1978), 83.

American architect Frank Lloyd Wright (1867-1959) looks over a drawing with his assistants at the Hillside Drafting Studio on the Wright's Taliesin Estate near Spring Green, Wisconsin, c. 1957. (Photo by ? Marvin Koner/CORBIS/Corbis via Getty Images)

The Taliesin Fellowship

Posted on 06/15/2024 | by admin

Reading Time: 5 minutes

A photograph of Frank Lloyd Wright with apprentices at a drafting table in the Hillside Drafting Studio. Photo taken by Marvin Koner in June 1958.

When I gave tours, I introduced the Taliesin Fellowship as:

a coeducational apprentice program that Wright and his wife, Olgivanna, started in 1932. They wanted the apprentices to participate in almost every aspect of their lives and taught the apprentices to “Learn By Doing”. The Taliesin Fellowship eventually became a school.

For years, the school was the Frank Lloyd Wright School of Architecture.

Now it’s the School of Architecture, an accredited architecture program that awards Master’s degrees and traces its origins back to the Fellowship. But it no longer operates out of either Taliesin site.

But while it sounds simple

the Fellowship is/was never easy to explain.

When I got my job in 1994 and told professor Narciso Menocal¹ in my department, he disparaged “those people”.

Like, when you say “Fellowship” people think it involves scholars that are awarded grants, like an NEH fellowship.

Wright awarded no grants or degrees and taught no classes.

The Taliesin Fellowship apprentices lived at the Taliesins (Wisconsin in the summer; Arizona in the winter) and farmed, cooked, made music, built/repaired the structures, drafted in the studios, and supervised construction of his buildings. At first for Frank Lloyd Wright, and then for Taliesin Architects after his death.

And paid tuition to do this.

I never went back to Menocal and said

like I wrote in “Wright Was Not a Shyster“

“with Wright, there was a difference between the ideal and the reality.”

In the ideal, the Fellowship would echo apprenticeships from the Middle Ages. He wrote in an early prospectus for the Fellowship that:

“SO WE BEGIN this working Fellowship as a kind of daily work-life. Apprentices at work on buildings or in crafts which have a free individual basis: a direct work-experience made healthy and fruitful by seeing Idea as work and work as Idea take effect, actually, in the hand of the young apprentice.“

Frank Lloyd Wright, An Autobiography, new and revised ed. (New York: Duell, Sloan, and Pearce, 1943), 392.

YET,

while the Wrights explained in their prospectus:

“Each apprentice will work under the inspiration of direct architectural leadership, toward machine-craft in this machine age. All will work together in a common daily effort to create new forms needed by machine work and modern processes if we are to have any culture of our own worth having…. Our activities, we hope, will be gradually extended to include collateral arts by way of such modern machine crafts as we can establish.”

Frank Lloyd Wright, An Autobiography, new and revised ed. (New York: Duell, Sloan, and Pearce, 1943), 391.

it didn’t always work out the way they envisioned it.

After all,

Curtis Besinger (former longtime Fellowship member) wrote about the expectations new apprentices had:

Some came expecting an academic environment, a school with required and regular hours of classwork…. Some came expecting an artistic community, a sort of bohemian life of freedom in which one could do what he wanted…. Some came expecting an egalitarian co-op with everyone having an equal say. Some came expecting a lesser degree of commitment and involvement….

Few newcomers to the Fellowship received special treatment…. Of course, there were exceptions, but “wholesome neglect” was the practice and the policy.

Curtis Besinger. Working with Mr. Wright: What it was Like (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, England, 1995), 22-23.

Nevertheless,

Besinger’s memories of his time echoed many things that people on tour asked:

How could people do all of this: cook, clean, farm, make music, and – oh yeah – work in the drafting studio? And pay for the privilege?

They’re things that I don’t know if anyone could answer, even if they read all the books I first put in my post, “Books by Apprentices“.

And still,

one of the things I liked about giving tours was holding these various ideas simultaneously in my head, continuously: did the Wrights take advantage of people? Yes. But no one stayed if they didn’t get something out of it. Priscilla Henken, then an apprentice, kept a diary, which gives a day-to-day good and bad portrait of life in the Fellowship. The National Book Museum published it as Taliesin Diary: A Year with Frank Lloyd Wright and it gives an unvarnished view as well as many previously unseen photographs.

But personally,

I think the Fellowship helped keep Wright young.

My impression of Wright’s later years is contrasted by my knowledge of the later years of Pablo Picasso.² Picasso’s peers were passing away and he wasn’t surrounded by many young people. So the painter took to rethinking the work of the Masters.

Therefore, in the 1950s he painted his version of Las Meninas by Diego Velasquez (1599-1660), a work by Eugene Delacroix (1798-1863), and then Dejeuner Dur L’Herbe by Eduard Manet (1832-1883).

Manet’s painting is below:

Then there’s Picasso’s version from the early 1960s:

I looked at Picasso’s work from the 1950s and ’60s and it was better than what I remembered, but I wonder if he would have done something different if he was surrounded by young artists (unless he was so competitive that it was impossible).

And one night,

months ago, as I thought about the Fellowship,

as one often does

I remembered the saying I’ve heard about the Grateful Dead:³

They may not be the best at what they do, but they’re the only ones who are doing it.

Note: the folks who said that loved the Dead, too.

Published June 15, 2023.
The image at the top of this post is by © Marvin Koner/CORBIS/Corbis via Getty Images.

Take a look

at “Taliesin Life and Times” by William Walter Schildroth, Architect. He was an apprentice from 1959 (after Frank Lloyd Wright’s death) to 1961 and describes why he came into the Taliesin Fellowship, his duties, and how he learned “by doing”.

Notes:

1. Narciso Menocal was an Architectural Historian in the University of Wisconsin Art History Department. He’s the reason I knew more about Louis Sullivan than Frank Lloyd Wright when I started working at Taliesin: Menocal ran a Graduate Seminar on Sullivan. But he was never my advisor (I asked another professor to be my advisor after he lectured in our first class and I thought “this is why I started grad school”).

2. 1881-1973. I also took a graduate seminar on Picasso. Picasso, like Wright, was also a prolific artist who lived until his early 90s, had several well-known romantic relationships, and had a wife named Olga. Although Olgivanna was rarely just called “Olga” and she was 30 years younger than Wright as opposed to Picasso’s later paramour Francois Gilot (also an artist and mother of Paloma and Claude). She was 40 years younger than Picasso (research for this part of my page brought me to this web page just on Picasso’s muses). Until I looked at images for today’s post, I really didn’t like anything he did after 1939.

3. If you’ve got a couple of hours, here’s a link to part of one of their concerts in 1974. My oldest sister (who saw 300+ Dead shows) would have been happy to see/hear it.

Sepia studio photograph of a young boy next to a table with a vase. From the Wisconsin Historical Society - Wright collection, 1869-1968. Image ID: 31680

Frank Lloyd Wright birth and birthplace

Posted on 06/01/2024 | by admin

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Theodore Farrington took this photograph of a young Frank Wright in Macgregor, Iowa. The Wrights lived there from 1871 until 1873.

As June 8 approaches, it’s time for

the annual performance of:

“When and Where was Frank Lloyd Wright born”

So, I’ve got you covered on “when”. I wrote about that several years ago in this very little electronic space: “Keiran: Don’t Try to Correct the Internet“

The short story is that he was born in 1867

or to make the SEO happy (with active verbs), I’ll write, “Anna Lloyd Wright gave birth to her son Frank in…”

And you can read the post to learn more.

But the other question is:

Where was he born?

Well, we definitely know it was in Wisconsin.

The location of the piece of ground on which he was born though? That’s where things get tricky.

First of all, there’s no birth certificate

(so I can’t even tell you if he was born Frank Lloyd Wright; or Frank Lincoln Wright, which biographer Brendan Gill put forth in his Wright biography¹ and while it’s logical, there’s no written proof; thanks, Gill)

You see, when Frank Lloyd Wright was born on June 8, his father, William C. Wright, was working as a minister in Richland Center, 20 miles (32 km) from Spring Green. And the Wrights lived on Church Street in RC, which makes some conclude that Wright was born in the house on that street.

That would seem logical except:

Twylah Kepler, Richland Center historian, told the Chicago Tribune in the year 2000 that shortly after Wright’s birth, Wm. Wright performed a funeral service in Bear Valley, 14 miles (22.5 km) from Richland Center, for someone in his congregation. Since Anna was heavily pregnant at that time, it seems likely she stayed near her husband.

And fortunately for the Wrights, Wm. Wright’s former in-laws, the Holcombs, already lived in Bear Valley. In addition, historian Jack Holzhueter explained to me that it makes sense that Anna would have been ensconced in the house of the in-laws. Since Wm. Wright had the three children from his first (deceased) wife, Permelia, the in-laws could have taken care of the children, and Anna, during her “lying-in” (after all, it was her first child, and they were family).

On the other hand,

The late Wright historian William Marlin wrote that he discovered Wright was born on Church Street. This is part of the article in the Chicago Tribune in 2000:

Marlin wrote a long letter about this birthplace research to Margaret Scott, the resident Richland Center historian at the time. Both have since died.

Marlin told Scott his research led him to believe the home on Church Street is the most likely birthplace, and outlined why in several pages. He… said only new evidence would answer the question for sure.

Jack Holzhueter,… said Marlin’s letter prompted more research into the Church Street house. Instead of bolstering the possibility the town finally had its birthplace, that research cast new doubt on the site.

“I don’t know that we will ever find a Rosetta Stone,” Holzhueter said.²

Marlin died in 1994. His work on Wright’s biography was one of those things I came across that taught me a lot.

I didn’t learn from what Marlin wrote; I’ve never seen that. But I’ve seen the photographs he collected.

See

Marlin had been writing a highly anticipated biography on Wright. So he gathered hundreds of photos. And for reasons I don’t know, his photos came through the Preservation Office at Taliesin about 30 years ago.

I also don’t know how long Marlin had been working on his book, but he had collected copies of dozens of photographs from:
• the Pedro E. Guerrero Archives,
• Wisconsin Historical Society,
• Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation Archives,
• the Capital Times,
• and others I’ve never figured out.

Eventually I grew to hate Marlin while working on figuring out the photographs. While they showed only things at Taliesin, they came with no organization, and I had no idea what time frame or even space that I was looking at.

What happened, I think, is that the origin of the images (which I’m sure he kept somewhere) was separated from the key to them.

Although, the information on where he got the images might have just been kept in his head.

In that case, yeah I do blame him.

At least he wasn’t that guy with hundreds of millions of dollars in bitcoin that he can’t get to because he lost the password

So the photos from Marlin were good because they made me look at the details to figure out things on my own.

Like I wrote in “My Dam History” where a winter of staring at bad xeroxes of Taliesin taught me to closely look at photos.

For information

on the puzzle about Wright’s birthplace, read “Frank Lloyd Wright Was Born Here” from the Chicago Tribune published on May 25 2000.

Posted: June 1, 2024
The Wisconsin Historical Society has the photograph at the top of this page, here.

Notes:

1. Brendan Gill. Many Masks: A Life of Frank Lloyd Wright (G P Putnam’s Sons, New York, 1987), 25.
2. as an aside, Jack apparently likes referring to the Rosetta Stone when discussing Wrightiana. He said the same thing when The Album of early Taliesin photographs was auctioned in 2005.

Color photo taken at ground level under Taliesin's horse stable. Photograph by Keiran Murphy

Newspaper under Taliesin’s Horse Stable

Posted on 05/13/2024 | by admin

Reading Time: 6 minutes

No, not Taliesin’s first horse stable (as seen in this post).

I’m talking about the other Taliesin horse stable. The one he added some time in the Taliesin II era (you know, “The Forgotten Middle Child of Taliesin“).

I think he stopped using the first stable when he started having draftsmen live with him. So he turned the first stable (and a carriage house) into apartments.

I found this newspaper while working on the history of the spaces at Taliesin.

I called these the “Chronologies”. These were narratives of the spaces in chronological order. These were of Taliesin’s rooms, spaces, or groups of rooms. In the end I created over 25 of them and gave them to the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation so that my knowledge and information didn’t disappear into the ether….

These covered Taliesin’s Living Room and Frank Lloyd Wright’s Bedroom, but also places with few photographs where no one ever lived. Like that second horse stable, the tack room next to it, or the rooms and under it… so other mechanical spaces.

Still,

they all add up to Taliesin having 101 rooms spread out over 7 wings.

And, sure: one of those rooms is a closet, but one-hundred-and-one is still a fun number to throw out there.

And one of Taliesin’s rooms was known as “the Kohler Room”. You see the outside of it in the photo at the top of this post. Its the room with four windows. It’s labelled as the Kohler Room on at least one floor plan: drawing #2501.046. They called it that because there was a Kohler generator there for additional electricity.

The space is also known as called “Gene’s Print Room” because it held the printer that Gene Masselink worked on.

Getting back to the point

If you look at the photo, you can see a rectangular window on the wall perpendicular to the Kohler Room. The window looks into a garage that was, originally, a throughway for the driveway. On the ceiling of that garage is

the discovery

I remembered last week.

I was watching a video tour of Fallingwater that Boaz Frankel (of Next Pittsburgh) took. In it, Executive Director Justin Gunther¹ takes Frankel through the unusual spaces at Fallingwater, like the kitchen, private offices, and the basement.

At just over 7:20 into Frankel’s video

Gunther shows a detail in the basement: its ceiling shows the impressions of the wood from the forms that were built to set up the concrete in the ceiling.

Gunther talking about the concrete detail reminded me of what I’m going to write about today: when I was writing about the history of that horse stable, I found a piece of newspaper embedded in the ceiling of the garage. The newspaper tells us when the pour was made.

When I was doing the “chrono” on the horse stable, my research sometimes took place in my head. Sometimes it took place while I peered at every drawing or bit piece of oral histories that I could think of.

Or, sometimes I did it by driving to Taliesin and walking around the spaces at Taliesin, trying to poke into everywhere I had the nerve to go

I was a little nervous because my balance sucked (even before my MS²).

We don’t know exactly when Wright added this stable, but it might have been part of the changes that the Baraboo Weekly News mentioned in 1919:

The title of the piece is:

Wright Adding to Property: Architect Making a Number of Changes to his Wisconsin Home Near Spring Green

In part, the note says that Wright was making “improvements”, and an “addition” which was “being built to the stable and a number of fine cattle will find shelter there[e].“

Since there was nothing added to Taliesin’s original stable, I think this points to the current Taliesin stable you can see in the drawing below.

Wendingen Magazine published the drawing in its issues devoted to Wright in 1924 and 1925.
Then the magazine issues were published as a book, The Life-Work of the American Architect Frank Lloyd Wright, by Frank Lloyd Wright, H. Th. Wijdeveld, ed. (Santpoort, Holland: C. A. Mees, 1925).

The horse stable is the vertical rectangle to the left of the “SHELTER”. The drawing shows that the drive went under it. That’s why you see “SLOPE UNDER STABLE” and “RAMP” which I labelled in red. Not only could you drive up to the house, but farmhands could drive a trailer under it and they could sweep the horse manure onto waiting wagon.

Unfortunately,

that scoundrel didn’t even leave us any other drawings; this one comes from 1924.

And

you can also see the words “Cow Barn” on the drawing: the horizontal section 15.

Wright never built that, but I think this must have been what the Baraboo Weekly News was talking about. Well, regardless of how Wright used the area around the sable, he wanted to change how someone got to his home after Taliesin’s 1925 fire.

In Taliesin’s earliest years, you drove to the house by going up to the Porte-Cochere, like what’s in the photo below:

Photograph of Taliesin's porte-cochere seen in late fall/early spring — Photograph of Taliesin by Taylor Woolley in the Utah Historical Society, ID #695913

But after 1925 he eliminated the chance to do that.

Instead

People drove from the dam and waterfall around Taliesin’s pond at the base of the hill:

Aerial of Taliesin taken Feb. 7, 1934 — From the William “Beye” Fyfe collection at The Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation Archives

then up the drive and under the horse stable.

Very few visitors took photographs at this part of the house. Fortunately, though, you can see the drive going under the stable in one photo I showed here before. I’m showing it again and lightened up part of it to show the drive. It where the added arrow is, too:

Photograph by architect, George Kastner. George Kastner took this photograph on December 17, 1928. Brian A. Spencer collection

The date on the photograph is in 1928, but a piece of newspaper

told me when this drive was completed.

When the workmen poured the concrete (like Gunther at Fallingwater said) and built the wooden forms, they put the newspaper down to keep the concrete from curing on them. That’s how, when I was investigating the garage and snapped photos, I found the newspaper you can see below:

October 1, 1926.

Wright wasn’t at Taliesin that day. At the time, he was hiding in Minnesota due to problems with his second wife, Miriam Noel. But obviously, he still had work going on at his house.

Wright changed this drive in 1939

and built a large parking court that still exists. Here’s my photo from when I researched the stable. The red arrow I added is at the garage:

The last I heard,

That whole wing is in pretty good shape, so it doesn’t look like this area desperately needs restoration or reconstruction.

Published May 13, 2024
I took the photograph at the top of this post almost 20 years ago, in July 2004. You’re looking (plan) east at the first floor under the horse stables. You walk past this stonework on one Taliesin tour: the 4-hour Taliesin Estate tour.

Notes:

1. Gunther and I sat close to each other at the conference in September when I received my “Wright Spirit award“. I regret not speaking to him.

2. My father once said to me, “Balance is not a gift God gave to you.” Which honestly made me really happy.

Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater in Pennsylvania.

Frank Lloyd Wright: architect of millionaires… or maybe not

Posted on 04/29/2024 | by admin

Reading Time: 5 minutes

In today’s post I’m going to write about the public perception of Wright as the millionaire’s architect, countered by his attempts to design and build homes for people in the middle class.

It’s not surprising

that when you think of Frank Lloyd Wright, you think he only designed for rich people.

Because

You hear he designed a house on a waterfall like the one you see at the top of this post.

Or that he designed everything at the house,

including plateware.

Which isn’t true, but you heard he designed everything so

Why not plateware?

If it sounds like I’m being snarky, I’m just repeating what even Taliesin tour guides wondered sometimes, either because we got really curious

hopefully not dangerously curious

until I had to satisfy my curiosity and confirm that he only designed plateware for the Imperial Hotel and Midway Gardens.

check out this page for some pretty plates

Regardless,

you probably heard his houses all cost too much money.

The perception by the 1950s was that Wright was an architect of the wealthy. In fact, the movie,

North By Northwest is an example of this.

This is the Alfred Hitchcock movie with Cary Grant running in a corn field while a crop duster barrels down on him.

And he runs across Mount Rushmore.

Before that, he sneaks up to the modernist home of character Phillip Vandamm (a Cold War spy). This home hangs off of the area behind Mount Rushmore near the end of the film.

The look of this home screamed “Frank Lloyd Wright” to people.

Um…. No.

Wright didn’t design the house. In fact, the house doesn’t exist.

But director Hitchcock wanted the house owned by the bad guy Vandamm to exude luxury. According to JetSet Modern’s article from 2001, Hitchcock

“was faced with having to find places and things that were universally recognized as belonging to the rich and powerful…. It meant getting the cooperation of the Plaza and…. coming up with a house for Vandamm.”

“In 1958, when ‘North by Northwest’ was in production, Frank Lloyd Wright was the most famous Modernist architect in the world…. His renown in the Fifties was such that mass-market magazines like House Beautiful and House & Garden devoted entire issues to his work. If Hitchcock could put a Wright house in his movie, that mass audience was going to get the point right away. Wright was absolutely the man to fill the bill Hitchcock needed….”

I found this article in The Wayback Machine.

See? I told you I used that site a lot.

But despite this popular conception

there’s evidence throughout Wright’s career that he really wanted to design moderate-cost homes for people.

And “Wright was not a shyster“

First,

if you’re in the Wrightworld, you know he tried in the 1910s for standardized building designs known as the American System Built Houses (ASBH).

These, which he tried to sell in the 1910s used standardized, milled lumber, and cut down on waste.

Check out

This well-written entry on the ASBH at Wikipedia.

Secondly, in the 1920s

He designed his “Textile-block houses“.

You see, Wright thought

the houses would be inexpensive because they were made out of concrete using aggregate from the site.

He wrote about this in his autobiography:

The concrete block? The cheapest (and ugliest) thing in the building world. It lived mostly in the architectural gutter….

Why not see what could be done with that gutter-rat?…

It might be permanent, noble, beautiful. It would be cheap.

An Autobiography by Frank Lloyd Wright, (Longmans, Green and Company, London, New York, Toronto, 1932), 235.

Additionally, the concrete could be cast onsite, cutting down on transportation costs.

But the concrete molds

for the blocks were complicated. And you had to cast

thousands of them.

For example, the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation tells us the Wright’s Ennis House in California has 27,000 blocks

As a result, Wright designed only 4 of those houses in California, and one in Tulsa, Oklahoma for Wright’s cousin, Richard in the late ’20s.

Btw: someone restored it and it’s for sale

And then the Great Depression started. But he still thought about houses for the middle class.

Then, in the 1930s Wright envisions another inexpensive house.

These homes, which he called “Usonian“, eliminated the attic and basement, included sandwich-wall construction,¹ and had furniture made out of plywood.

And, years ago, another tour guide told me that you could buy a sheet of plywood for a dollar in the 1930s.

Here’s a sign put out by the Jacobs family when they were building their house in Madison. They apparently paid for the design of the house by giving tours for 50 cents:

I got this sign from Building With Frank Lloyd Wright, by Herbert Jacobs, p. 51.

I’ve heard that Usonian designs were his most popular. The Wikipedia page I linked to above says Wright designed 60 Usonian houses.

And some people disagree with what others define as Usonian. Sometimes it seems like people² say anything he designed after 1936 is “Usonian”. Others say, no-no, it’s got to be only if the home has a small footprint. Others say that the home has to have in-floor heating.

But Wright’s intention seems to have been to construct moderately priced beautiful homes for people. He also encouraged people to construct the homes to save on costs.

Why?

Really: why did the guy do this?

I think he wanted buildings that beautifully integrated with nature and was probably willing to take any pay cut to get it to the largest group of people possible.

granted, like I wrote in the post “Wright was not a shyster”, with him, there’s a difference between the ideal and the reality.

Ok, it might have also been because,

as some would say to me on tours,

Architects are control freaks and he wanted the U.S. to look the way he wanted.

And if his designs were the way to do it, so be it.

First posted April 29, 2024
The image at the top of this post is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license. The image is available at Creative Commons, which has its licensing information and a larger version. I also posted this photo in “Frank Lloyd Wright Buildings are smaller than you think“.

Notes

1. kind of is what it sounds like: a layered construction that included insulation and was structural in a way that eliminated wall studs. So, it cut down on materials. “PreservationPricess” went into this at a blog they kept for 6 months in 2012:

“sandwich-wall construction”: vertical sheets of one inch thick plywood with a layer of roofing felt on each side, and horizontal cypress boards and battens screwed onto both sides…. The sandwich-wall construction reflected Wright’s desire for simplification within the Usonian house… [and] could be shop-built and easily erected on site.

2. or I could say real estate agents, but that gets me into another conversation. I’ll put a note to myself to write a post about how people glom onto “Wright-inspired”, or at least give you all links to dozens of conversations Frankophiles have every time we see “Wright-inspired”.