99% in Print: A Book for the Urban Curious

So it appears that every 19 months, I write a blog post. I'm doing so now, because I have to. Because something monumental has happened, and not doing so would be inexcusable. 

If you've ever read my blog, or you know me at all, you know that I love the podcast 99% Invisible. (And that I love Roman Mars.) You're probably tired of me telling you to listen to 99PI. Well, Roman and Kurt have released a book, The 99% Invisible City: A Field Guide to the Hidden World of Everyday Design. So now I'm telling you to read 99PI.

The book is beautifully designed and perfect for anyone who is curious about the world around them. Full of tidbits and stories about intriguing design elements that you see and don't see in cities all over the world. 

So maybe you're not a podcast person, maybe you're a book person. I highly encourage you to check out 99PI in print. I stand by my claim that everything that Roman (and Kurt) say is fascinating. I've never been disappointed in an episode and I very often find myself talking about the stories later in the week. 

If you're looking for recommendations on episodes to start with, here's a blog post (from 5 years ago) that lists some of my (really old!) favorites. 

But Do They Notice?

As a graphic designer, I spend most of my day rearranging elements around a page like a puzzle; hoping to convey the message in a hierarchical, readable, non-offensive way. What I do doesn't save or change lives... I just try to make things look pretty. So... do people notice?

Well thanks to a recent 99% Invisible episode*, I can take comfort in the fact, that at least Roman Mars does....

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"I firmly believe that people do care, even if we don't know why, even if we don't know how to articulate it, we feel the effects of bad design, whether we consciously notice it or not....  Once you get people to notice bad design, your annoyance spreads like a virus." 

               – Roman Mars

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In the episode, Roman talks with Kate Wagner of the website McMansion Hell; an architectural critic, focusing on ostentatious homes that are built to present an ideal image of wealth but give no consideration to the grammar of design. 

Wagner wants to empower people to have opinions based on design, rather than marketing. But mostly I think she enjoys that others now have to suffer with through her shared annoyance of bad architectural design. I mean, no one wants to suffer alone. 

I can relate to this, since over the years, I have introduced many a friend to Papyrus. And I am pleased that they now cringe every time the encounter it. 

So I will go forth and design on, in the happy knowledge that Roman Mars approves. 

*99% Invisible is my favorite. The fact that there are people out there who are constantly curious about random topics makes me love human beings a little bit more.

Walking through Fire – Exploring Chicago's Architecture

Last week, I spent two days in Chicago doing an unofficial architectural tour. 

The trip was inspired by a desire to visit Frank Lloyd Wright's Robie House near the University of Chicago in Hyde Park. Anyone who knows me, knows I have distinct interest in all of Wright's work—in the past I've visited, and blogged about, Taliesin, Taliesin West and Falling Water. 

Robie House was built in 1910, and is the pinnacle of Wright's prairie style homes. Long lines and low ceilings allow the structure to fit into it's natural landscape. Yet, in response to a desire for privacy and protection (the owner had young children), the home has almost a fortress like feel from the outside. 

Touring it, I didn't feel the floorplan flowed as smoothly as some of Wrights other homes. I'm wondering if that was because certain portions of the home weren't open to the public, or if this winding path was part of the home's original design. 

Nevertheless, it is an undeniably Wright space, and when renovations are complete, it will be a masterful piece of architecture history. 

Just down the road, I saw another Wright masterpiece — at the Museum of Science and Industry. This one was much smaller... 

The Fallingwater model at the Brick by Brick Lego architecture exhibit was built by Adam Reed Tucker and contains some 21,000+ bricks. 

The Brick by Brick exhibit is a special feature at the museum running through February 2017. Other highlights include a 60 foot long Golden Gate Bridge (64,500 bricks) and a replica of the Palace of Fine Arts (18,500 bricks) — the building the museum is actually in!

Coincidentally, at the recommendation of a friend, I had started listening to Devil in the White City by Erik Larson on my drive to Chicago. The book is about the murders that took place during the 1893 World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago; with a second, parallel storyline about the architects behind the expo, Burnham and Root. While reading about the process of building this Expo, it was amazing to be standing in the only building remaining from the event. It was an unplanned and absolutely kismet scenario.*

Burnham and Root were to come up again on day two of my architectural adventures. The pair of architects achieved great success after the 1871 Chicago Fire. Otis's invention of the safety elevator and the strength of new steel construction, made it possible to design taller buildings. Burnham and Root are credited with the first "skyscraper" — built in 1882 (demolished in 1902), the Montauk was 10 stories tall.

Just down the street from where the Montauk once stood, is the Rookery building. Also designed by Burnham and Root (their office was on the top floor), the Rookery is an 11 story tall steel building on LaSalle, in the "Loop" of downtown Chicago. 

Built in 1888, the main entry to the building opens up to the Light Court, a glass covered courtyard. In 1905, the building's owners hired Frank Lloyd Wright to update and modernize the Light Court. 

To brighten the space, Wright covered the original dark cast iron ornamentation with white marble with gold Persian style inlays, which was more in unison with the other materials within the building. The original design still hides under the marble casing today. 

The Rookery's Light Court is Wright's only work within the downtown landscape of Chicago. You can tour the light court as part of the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation.

From the Rookery, I headed north to the Chicago River and got aboard my Wendella boat** for a 75 minute architectural tour. It was a beautiful 90+ degree afternoon, and we had a lovely ride down the river, which has seen much improvement over the last few year's as part of Chicago's Riverwalk project. 

The tour was full of factoids about the buildings along the river, as well as Chicago history in general. In retrospect, I should have trusted my gut and gone with the Chicago Architecture Foundation's 90 minute boat tour. It was a little more expensive, but I think the tour information would have been more geared towards specific architectural details, and construction facts, vs. which building Lady Gaga has a penthouse in. Nevertheless, it was a beautiful ride. 

As an amateur architecture buff, I had a fantastic 2 days exploring (and reading about!) this historic city. If your interested in seeing some of what I saw, here's all the details:

• Robie House Tour – 5757 S. Woodlawn Ave.
  $17 dollar tour
• Brick by Brick – Science and Industry Museum – 5700 S. Lake Shore Dr.
  $18 museum entry + $9 for special exhibit
  Exhibit showing until September 2017
  Parking - $22 (Robie house is .7 miles away, I parked in the residential neighborhood for free and walked to the museum).
  (Don’t miss Colleen Moore's Fairy Castle!!)
• Rookery Tour – 201 S. LaSalle St.
  $7 for a 30 minute tour
  If you go on a Wednesday, you can also tour Burnham's Library!
• Wendella's Original Architecture Tour –  401 N. Wabash Ave.
  5 minute boat ride for $35

*This book is amazing. Highly recommend. 

**At the Trump Dock. Which made me cringe. I hope they're not associated.
I did enjoy my fellow passengers taking selfies flipping-off the Trump sign. 

Usonian Neighbors

Just down the road from Fallingwater is another Frank Lloyd Wright project, Kentuck Knob, and thus our roadtrip became a FLLW twofer. 

The residence of dairy farmers the I.N. and Bernadine Hagen is situated on the ridge of the Allgeheny Mountains and offers simultaneous views of Pennsylvania, Maryland and West Virginia. 

The Hagan's were friends of the Kaufmans and admired Fallingwater so much that they asked Wright to build them their own place. However, Wright was so occupied with other projects, that he couldn't be bothered to visit the site until the foundation was being poured, the entire house was drawn based on photographs of the property.

The Usonian house is built around the concept of a central core, and is designed around a fixed hexagon, which houses the kitchen and main heating for the home. Hexagons rule the home, there are only to 90 degree angles in the building, and they are both in bathrooms.

The home is built into the side of a hill, causing little intrusion into its natural surroundings—the copper roof and sandstone, blending in to the environment.

Frank Lloyd Wright's signature block in Cherokee red cost the Hagan's an additional $1000.

To even the untrained FLLW eye, Kentuck Knob is clearly a Frank Lloyd Wright creation. However, walking through it, it is obvious this home was not an OCD obsession for Wright, as there are little glitches and nuances that he never would have allowed had he been  on-site. 

Despite this, I like the casual nature of the home with its open floorplan and porch lining the whole backside. Seems Frank does good, even when he's not really trying.

Falling for Mr. Wright

It's made a lot of lists... as a Places to Visit Before You Die or an Architectural Wonders. 
And it certainly was at the top of mine as a Places to Go (soon!).

Fallingwater is Frank Lloyd Wrights most acclaimed work, and being a bit of a fan of Mr. Wright, a roadtrip was in order.  

The Kaufman's summer residence sits just outside Uniontown, Pennsylvania on Bear Run amidst Ohiopyle State Park. The 7.5 hour drive from Grand Rapids takes you through some hilly territory of Pennsylvania, leading up to the remotest of locations.

Built in 1935, Fallingwater's attraction is its three cantilevered balconies that suspend over the river, defying all architectural and structural odds.... though to be fair, they have needed some rehab over the years.  

I admire the way the home blends into it's setting, incorporating the environment without overtaking it. The balconies are  painted a shade of taupe to match the color the rhododendron leaves turn after they fall to the ground. Water can be heard throughout most of the home, and behind the home, up the hill, a spring feeds into and fills a pool at the guest house (not shabby for a guest house... even has a Picasso hanging in there... you know, the Kaufman's trash art that they didn't want on display at their main home in Pittsburgh). But my favorite part of the home, were the stairs that led straight from the living room to the water.

Many FLLW tell-tale signs can be spotted at Fallingwater– Cherokee red paint, low seating, built in furniture, mitered window corners, low-entry ways, etc, etc... but is a one-of-a-kind, stand-out home, that could never be replicated anywhere else.

As astounding of a home as it is (and I'm uber-envious of all those balconies)... I'm having a hard time ranking it against Taliesin, or even FLLW's  Oak Park home. Perhaps it's the fuss that's made over it, perhaps it's that I've seen too much FLLW, but I didn't see anything truly unexpected (except maybe the stairs and the pool).

I also have a hard time listing this as an architectural wonder over many of the things in Europe—which would have been built centuries early without the aid of many tools! Despite that, his use of the river is so ingenious that I'll let him keep the honor!

Ireland is Old

I don't think here in the US we understand what OLD is. The United States is 238 years old. Columbus found America 522 years ago. 

It took over 140 years to build the Duomo in Florence (Italy). One building. It took 49 years to carve the doors of its Baptistery. It was completed in 1436. Before North America had even been discovered (by the Europeans). 340 years before the United States became an independent country. And the Duomo is still standing.
I don't know anything about the Pyramids, but my guess is, they're older. And they're still standing too. 

My point is, Boston, I love you, but you're a baby. 

Driving around Ireland, I was struck by how old everything is, and I feel this way every time I go to Europe. Here, in this country, we'll never understand and appreciate history, because we have none. Buildings we build today, won't be here in 340 years. 

At first, when we'd see the ruins of a crumbling castle we'd rush to pull the cameras out, "ohmygod, a castle!". By the end of the week, it was a non-enthused pointing, "there's something old." Not that we didn't appreciate and admire it, it was just everywhere. Ireland is living amidst their history.

17th Century Churches are now bars, Dower Houses are hotels, and Castles can be wine museums.

It's amazing to watch Europeans function amongst these buildings without their jaws dropping every time they turn a corner. These buildings are just normal, they're just there. They've always been there, and they probably always will.*

We'll never be as old as Europe. And because we don't build for generations, we'll never be as cool. 

*I understand that many of these buildings wouldn't be standing without conservation efforts. The point is, they're worth saving, and they recognize this enough to do so, without simplu bull-dozing city hall and starting over. 

The Shining Brow goes West for Winter

After my summer visit to Talieson (East), I was very eager to visit Talieson West. Luckily, a recent visit to my grandparents in Mesa, Arizona put me right in the vicinity. 

Frank Lloyd Wright built Talieson West as his winter home while he was working on the Biltmore Hotel in Phoenix. He, along with his (third wife) Olglivanna and his apprentices traveled to Scotsdale for 20 winters. Students of the Fellowship still travel between Talieson West and Spring Green.

Architecturally, there are many similarities to Talieson in Spring Green. The layout is long and vast, built right into its environment without obliterating it's surroundings. The views are intentional and breathtaking. The 620 acre estate was confirmed a National Historic Landmark in 1982. 

Talieson West is owned and run by the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation now, but overall seems to be in much better condition than the home in Spring Green. (Perhaps because West is made from a mix of desert rock and concrete, while most of Spring Green is made of softer limestone, which was more readily available in Wisconsin.) But if Wright had bothered to patent any of his structural innovations, the Wright Foundation wouldn't be struggling to afford repairs!

It's an (not surprisingly) impressive design and architecturally amazing site—especially when you consider most of the building was done via forced labor of his apprentices! Oh, plus it's in the desert so it's an amazing escape from these nasty 2° Michigan Days!

 

The Shining Brow

Last week I took a bus and a train and car just to get to Taliesin in Spring Green, Wisconsin (population 1,628!). Taliesin was the summer home and studio of architect, Frank Lloyd Wright 

 

My interest in the estate was piqued while reading Nancy Horan's Loving Frank. I was familiar with Wright, his work and even the estate, but when I read that his mistress and her children were murdered in an arson on the property in 1914, I was became fascinated. (There was actually a second electrical fire on the property in 1925, so the house has been rebuilt several times.) 

Taliesin was constantly evolving, because of reconstruction, expansion, and because, over time, there was two different wives and a mistress that maintained the estate. (Now I'm reading TC Boyle's The Women which fictionalizes Wright's relationship with his three wives and Mamah Cheney.) Touring the estate you can see the transformation over time, though they are trying to restore it to it's condition in 1959, the time of Wright's death. 

The estate is in need of some extensive repairs, the degree of which was actually shocking. But the integrity of the home and Wright's vision of working it into the landscape, the shining brow* within the hillside, remains true. I love the way the indoor and outdoor meld into one space, and all the natural elements are inspiring. There is an obvious respect and awe for the environment within which it sits.

Having seen Taliesin, has fired us up to finally get to Wright's infamous Fallingwater and also, to make the trek to Arizona to see Taliesin West, Wright's winter home and school. 

Wright may not have been of questionable character, but he was an amazing architect, designer and visionary.  He designed buildings to live in harmony with their environment, giving thought to every detail of the interior and exterior. I admire his versatility and the enduring values of his work. If you have any interest in space and structures, I highly suggest investigating Wright further.


*Taliesin means shining brow in Welsh.