This diminutive survey features all aspects of Wright's art, from lowslung Prairie houses to the dramatic, seminal Fallingwater, to larger projects such as his two homes, Taliesin and Taliesin West, culiminating in that icon of modernism, New York's Guggenheim Museum. This satisfying volume is complete with drawings and rarely seen works from Wright's own Asian art collection.
Other Details: 240 illustrations, 230 in full color 288 pages 4 x 4" Published 1998
exhaustive search for a language that would reestablish a vital connection between architecture and nature, a link that Wright believed had existed in preliterate cultures.
Where Wright had used representation in the Prairie House, he now chose abstraction. For instance, in the art glass of the earlier Dana House (1902-4) in Springfield, Illinois, crystallized butterflies float over the dining room table as hanging lamps, and light plays against the stylized sumac leaves of the windows as if the house were being caressed by the forest. Taliesin became instead a metaphor for the surrounding landscape. Low rooflines echoed the profile of the hills, the walls were stained the color of the sand of the neighboring Wisconsin River, and native stone was laid up in horizontal layers to recall the stratified rock nearby.
The transition from the elaboration of a decorative style to the creation of a potent symbol of nature was facilitated by Wright's contact with Asian art. He had begun collecting Japanese prints as early as 1902. In 1905, he left the United States for the first time to spend three months in Japan. With information clearly gained in advance from books and Japanese associates, Wright systematically sought out historic shrines and gardens, Japanese art and craft. By 1916, when he sailed for Japan to spend the majority of the next six years in Tokyo building the Imperial Hotel, he was eager to accumulate not only thousands of wood block prints, but screens, textiles, ceramics, printed papers, bronzes, sculptures, and rugs. Intellectually, these six years were ones of study and reflection, in which Wright found inspiration for many of the themes that would rejuvenate his work between 1925 and 1936. In Asian art, Wright discovered an aesthetic that revealed the inner geometric structure of nature, and which used elements of flora and fauna to symbolize a powerful and meaningful cosmology. His early exposure to and background in Transcendentalism prepared him for these points of view but not for the complex task of translating them into architectural form.
With the Hollyhock House (1916-21) in Hollywood, California, Wright began to refine the elements that would constitute his new domestic vocabulary: earth, fire, water, and the dome of the sky. By the 1920s, with his invention of a concrete block system of construction, he had created the perfect fusion of art and nature. These square concrete blocks, made partly of decomposed granite excavated in situ, were intended for all walls, floors, and even the roof. Structure and ornament, the building and the earth, became one.
In the following years, until his death, Frank Lloyd Wright designed on many levels simultaneously; he would introduce and reintroduce a given architectural idea in building after building until he perfected his composition. At the same time, he initiated new directions and areas of investigation beyond the strict confines of architecture. He was stimulated by the development of a personal aesthetic as well as the changing needs and demands of society. Although he almost always designed as the result of a specific commission from a client, on occasion he would investigate a theoretical problem in a fully worked-out scheme, usually for publication or exhibition. This dual evolution had particular relevance for the period between 1925 and 1936, in which he culminated his exploration of the connection between architecture and nature with the masterful Edgar J. Kaufmann country house, Fallingwater, and began to formulate his ideas for a new social order.
Wright's planning principles were now formed against the backdrop of the Great Depression, which challenged the average American's trust in the status quo. He presented his planning scheme in a model and text that he exhibited at Rockefeller Center in 1935. He called his vision "Broadacre City" to both confuse and confound his critics. Although the low-density zones of his Usonia (a term coined to refer to the United States of America) did, indeed, require a minimum of one acre of land per family, the resulting form of the metropolis did not conform to the prevailing definitions of a city. Decentralization, which he predicted would ultimately spread across the entire nation and swallow up all existing urban centers, was made possible by the automobile, telephone, radio, and television. The historical need for vertical density--geographic proximity to work and culture--had been made obsolete by modern transportation and telecommunications. "The city would go to the country," as Wright predicted, but without the urban congestion that he believed was the root of all economic and social injustice.
Lacking support for his reforms from any government, federal or local, Wright carried out his ideas on a smaller scale with individual clients. He had not forgotten the middle-class families that had formed the core of his practice during the Prairie House period; Broadacre City was to be built one Usonian House at a time. In the period between the Depression and the beginning of World War II, affordable middle-class housing was in short supply and Wright directed his attention to the construction system as well as the plan. The Usonian House formed a "kit of parts," a standard vocabulary of elements for the erection of floors, walls, windows, fireplaces, and roof. It assumed the elimination of the contractor as middle-man between architect and client. It challenged the homeowner to become involved in the construction of his own house. With efficient spaces, judicious proportions, and the elimination of the inessential, it embodied the ideal of "a natural house."
Between the end of World War II and his death in 1959 at the age of ninety-one, Wright would have abundant opportunities to express his views on man, nature, and society; during this period, he received more commissions than at any other stage of his career. The buildings he designed at this time are distinguished by their optimistic mood. The Usonian Automatic method of concrete block construction revived his earlier system of the 1920s for a generation of American veterans returning from the war. Indeed, the postwar housing shortage provided an opportunity to demonstrate the theory that decentralization in a mobile society could provide open space, light, and intimate contact with nature for all Americans.
In the 1950s, Wright's studio was filled with projects for churches, office buildings, schools, hotels, and theaters. The dozens of schemes that he produced for the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York during the 1940s and 1950s were proof of his continued facility and tenacity. The solid rectangular blocks of the first decades of the century had given way to fluid curves encircling yet not containing space. With the Guggenheim Museum, Wright seems to have attained the promise of his earlier work--a building of continuity and plasticity that was a direct expression of the modern materials that formed it.
Frank Lloyd Wright sought to reconcile many of the opposing forces of the twentieth century: the rationalism of the machine with the mysteries of the earth, the rights of the individual with the need for community. Although Wright was a futurist, he dedicated his cause to traditional architectural values. The very paradoxes and contradictions that make him so difficult to compartmentalize are what give him such lasting appeal. His aesthetic prowess is unchallenged: masterpieces such as Fallingwater, Unity Temple, the Robie House, the Guggenheim Museum, and many more are among the greatest architectural landmarks in the United States, and possibly the world. At an early age Wright announced that his ambition was to become not only the greatest architect of his generation, but the greatest architect that ever lived. It is too early to render a judgment, but there is no doubt that his legacy will continue to influence generations well into the next century.
This diminutive survey features all aspects of Wright's art, from lowslung Prairie houses to the dramatic, seminal Fallingwater, to larger projects such as his two homes, Taliesin and Taliesin West, culiminating in that icon of modernism, New York's Guggenheim Museum. This satisfying volume is complete with drawings and rarely seen works from Wright's own Asian art collection.
Other Details: 240 illustrations, 230 in full color 288 pages 4 x 4" Published 1998
exhaustive search for a language that would reestablish a vital connection between architecture and nature, a link that Wright believed had existed in preliterate cultures.
Where Wright had used representation in the Prairie House, he now chose abstraction. For instance, in the art glass of the earlier Dana House (1902-4) in Springfield, Illinois, crystallized butterflies float over the dining room table as hanging lamps, and light plays against the stylized sumac leaves of the windows as if the house were being caressed by the forest. Taliesin became instead a metaphor for the surrounding landscape. Low rooflines echoed the profile of the hills, the walls were stained the color of the sand of the neighboring Wisconsin River, and native stone was laid up in horizontal layers to recall the stratified rock nearby.
The transition from the elaboration of a decorative style to the creation of a potent symbol of nature was facilitated by Wright's contact with Asian art. He had begun collecting Japanese prints as early as 1902. In 1905, he left the United States for the first time to spend three months in Japan. With information clearly gained in advance from books and Japanese associates, Wright systematically sought out historic shrines and gardens, Japanese art and craft. By 1916, when he sailed for Japan to spend the majority of the next six years in Tokyo building the Imperial Hotel, he was eager to accumulate not only thousands of wood block prints, but screens, textiles, ceramics, printed papers, bronzes, sculptures, and rugs. Intellectually, these six years were ones of study and reflection, in which Wright found inspiration for many of the themes that would rejuvenate his work between 1925 and 1936. In Asian art, Wright discovered an aesthetic that revealed the inner geometric structure of nature, and which used elements of flora and fauna to symbolize a powerful and meaningful cosmology. His early exposure to and background in Transcendentalism prepared him for these points of view but not for the complex task of translating them into architectural form.
With the Hollyhock House (1916-21) in Hollywood, California, Wright began to refine the elements that would constitute his new domestic vocabulary: earth, fire, water, and the dome of the sky. By the 1920s, with his invention of a concrete block system of construction, he had created the perfect fusion of art and nature. These square concrete blocks, made partly of decomposed granite excavated in situ, were intended for all walls, floors, and even the roof. Structure and ornament, the building and the earth, became one.
In the following years, until his death, Frank Lloyd Wright designed on many levels simultaneously; he would introduce and reintroduce a given architectural idea in building after building until he perfected his composition. At the same time, he initiated new directions and areas of investigation beyond the strict confines of architecture. He was stimulated by the development of a personal aesthetic as well as the changing needs and demands of society. Although he almost always designed as the result of a specific commission from a client, on occasion he would investigate a theoretical problem in a fully worked-out scheme, usually for publication or exhibition. This dual evolution had particular relevance for the period between 1925 and 1936, in which he culminated his exploration of the connection between architecture and nature with the masterful Edgar J. Kaufmann country house, Fallingwater, and began to formulate his ideas for a new social order.
Wright's planning principles were now formed against the backdrop of the Great Depression, which challenged the average American's trust in the status quo. He presented his planning scheme in a model and text that he exhibited at Rockefeller Center in 1935. He called his vision "Broadacre City" to both confuse and confound his critics. Although the low-density zones of his Usonia (a term coined to refer to the United States of America) did, indeed, require a minimum of one acre of land per family, the resulting form of the metropolis did not conform to the prevailing definitions of a city. Decentralization, which he predicted would ultimately spread across the entire nation and swallow up all existing urban centers, was made possible by the automobile, telephone, radio, and television. The historical need for vertical density--geographic proximity to work and culture--had been made obsolete by modern transportation and telecommunications. "The city would go to the country," as Wright predicted, but without the urban congestion that he believed was the root of all economic and social injustice.
Lacking support for his reforms from any government, federal or local, Wright carried out his ideas on a smaller scale with individual clients. He had not forgotten the middle-class families that had formed the core of his practice during the Prairie House period; Broadacre City was to be built one Usonian House at a time. In the period between the Depression and the beginning of World War II, affordable middle-class housing was in short supply and Wright directed his attention to the construction system as well as the plan. The Usonian House formed a "kit of parts," a standard vocabulary of elements for the erection of floors, walls, windows, fireplaces, and roof. It assumed the elimination of the contractor as middle-man between architect and client. It challenged the homeowner to become involved in the construction of his own house. With efficient spaces, judicious proportions, and the elimination of the inessential, it embodied the ideal of "a natural house."
Between the end of World War II and his death in 1959 at the age of ninety-one, Wright would have abundant opportunities to express his views on man, nature, and society; during this period, he received more commissions than at any other stage of his career. The buildings he designed at this time are distinguished by their optimistic mood. The Usonian Automatic method of concrete block construction revived his earlier system of the 1920s for a generation of American veterans returning from the war. Indeed, the postwar housing shortage provided an opportunity to demonstrate the theory that decentralization in a mobile society could provide open space, light, and intimate contact with nature for all Americans.
In the 1950s, Wright's studio was filled with projects for churches, office buildings, schools, hotels, and theaters. The dozens of schemes that he produced for the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York during the 1940s and 1950s were proof of his continued facility and tenacity. The solid rectangular blocks of the first decades of the century had given way to fluid curves encircling yet not containing space. With the Guggenheim Museum, Wright seems to have attained the promise of his earlier work--a building of continuity and plasticity that was a direct expression of the modern materials that formed it.
Frank Lloyd Wright sought to reconcile many of the opposing forces of the twentieth century: the rationalism of the machine with the mysteries of the earth, the rights of the individual with the need for community. Although Wright was a futurist, he dedicated his cause to traditional architectural values. The very paradoxes and contradictions that make him so difficult to compartmentalize are what give him such lasting appeal. His aesthetic prowess is unchallenged: masterpieces such as Fallingwater, Unity Temple, the Robie House, the Guggenheim Museum, and many more are among the greatest architectural landmarks in the United States, and possibly the world. At an early age Wright announced that his ambition was to become not only the greatest architect of his generation, but the greatest architect that ever lived. It is too early to render a judgment, but there is no doubt that his legacy will continue to influence generations well into the next century.
Frank Lloyd Wright: America's Master Architect
288
Frank Lloyd Wright: America's Master Architect
288
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780789202277 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Abbeville Publishing Group |
| Publication date: | 06/01/1998 |
| Series: | Tiny Folio , #12 |
| Edition description: | 1 ED |
| Pages: | 288 |
| Product dimensions: | 4.30(w) x 4.50(h) x 1.00(d) |