Wright This Way

Drove to Chicago, all things know, all things know.

But wait. Let’s back up. We’ll start in Los Angeles at Barnsdall Park where the recently renovated Hollyhock House pulled an all-nighter free-for-all; literally, it was open all night and free to get in.  I couldn't resist that plus there’s been a lot of anticipation because the place has been closed for years. It’s Frank Lloyd Wright in his Mayan revival, although, I think that’s a bit superficial. I mean, definitely, you can see the Mayan Temple on the outside but I think the genius of Wright is on the inside.  The interior volumes are thrilling. Maybe that’s just me but I find really thoughtful architecture thrilling. That quality does not translate into photos, I don’t think, but anyway, here you are:

You're welcome!

This is the west facade and those are the living room windows.

This court yard is 180° from the above. 

Inside, at last. The living room with a view of the city on one side and courtyard on the other.

Night view of the courtyard and the eponymous hollyhocks.

Closer and closest.

Dining room and kitchen beyond.

Little did I know, because it wasn't planned at the time, but a short while after seeing Hollyhock House I would see where it all began for Wright in Oak Park, IL.  And just like Sufjan Stevens I really did drive to Chicago (from South Bend, Indiana –a story for another post).  I love to visit Chicago but always in the past have stayed close to The Loop, which is all I knew until now. Of course I knew about Oak Park but thought, oh that’s so far away. It’s really not, although when Wright first moved there all his windows facing north looked to open prairie. That’s hard to picture today. What you can see in his home and his studio is a relentlessly creative mind germinating one idea after another and it continues around the corner and down the street. 

A shot only possible in the winter, though winter is long in Oak Park.

Front and side of FLW Oak Park. The side view highlights the evolution of his thinking and  expanded practice.

Here's the master bedroom and flanking murals. No doubt the Native Am. figures were inspired by the prairie view.

The playroom from both sides. Wouldn't you love to?

Detail of the playroom mural.

I know the broad strokes of Wright’s life but seeing so much of his work all at once really whetted my appetite for more. Actually my interest goes back to my teenage years since I considered the possibility of enrolling at Taliesin. I wish I still had the application materials. My recollection is that the packet was beautifully designed and printed on fine stock. I was a little shocked and intrigued by some of the requirements. There were specific instructions about what to bring to wear, how to dress for dinner, and there was the requirement that each student design and build his own habitation. Actually, I saw some of those little “forts” scattered about the property at Taliesin West in Scottsdale when I visited years ago. 

The studio with it's low overhead drawing boards and soaring central atrium.

The walking tour just around the corner.

Long story short I became a painter rather than an architect but as readers of this blog know I have often combined my painting with architecture. It was gratifying to hear from the tour guide at the Wright home that FLW really preferred art be a part of the architecture rather than a framed pictures hung on the wall. I think architects who feel that way may be as rare as Wright. I don’t understand that but I think that’s pretty true. What do you think?

Birdsong

My altered cover of Veranda, October 2014.

Slow time, stop time, go back in time. Wadmalaw Island makes you think all of that’s possible. If you’re out on the island you've likely come from Charleston, an antique city that lulls you in to thinking time travel is possible. Forty minutes from Charleston it’s deeply rural, unspoiled, serene, and bucolic. The October issue of Veranda has the story of Birdsong, a farm on Wadmalaw Island, and the site of my largest mural to date. It’s been well documented on this blog but here’s a refresher.

Nearly 160' of hallway, 160' of mural.

The vaporous woods of Birdsong.

Looking toward the side door.

A view into the guest room.

Detail of mural and sconce, the wild and the refined.

The marshy low country.

Turning the corner on the kitchen wall.

Spanish moss? Yes, lot's of it.

One of my favorite passages, a little abstract corner outside the kitchen.

My first job as a muralist is to decide on the overall look of the piece to make sure it fits seamlessly with the architecture and interior design. At Birdsong the mural is soft and impressionistic and I chose to portray the kind of dreaming atmosphere associated with the magic hour and misty mornings. The result is a work that one will not tire of because it is minimal and calming.

View of the Wadmalaw River.

The hall outside the library.

I think that shall never see...

The kitchen hallway.

A tangle of nature.

The spread in Veranda Magazine, October 2014.

I've gone back through my pictures of the making of, the installation of, and the mural hung with the interiors filled. It’s much more than you can see in Veranda though they say the tablet version of the magazine has more. I revisited the architect, Glenn Keyes’, site which has some lovely photos. Use the search box on my blog and type in "Wadmalaw" for more on this project.