My senior year of high school, I became immersed in the world of architecture, particularly with the work of Frank Lloyd Wright. The connection was an obvious subconscious precursor to my interest in juxtaposition. The influence of nature on his urban and residential buildings allowed for the blurring of two seemingly contradictory worlds. Whether it be the horizontal essence of the prairie homes or the formation of structure with the natural environment surrounding, Wright successfully interplayed this dichotomy. Ok, ok, you already know this. You’ve seen the pictures and blueprints a thousand times before. The anthology of his work on my coffee table is one of hundreds, thousands documenting his work (each one apparently not enough). A Google Image Search for “Falling Water” provides 11,800,000 results (in .38 seconds no less) that primarily involve Wright and his masterpiece. But in the age of abundant, two-dimensional-on-demand imagery, we lose the magnitude of the significance of the places and events themselves. Overstimulation begets underwhelming. Or…
“I am here.” Pointing to the ground I was standing on, these are the words I said after following the signs that said ‘View’ towards the iconic spot we’ve seen so many of the pictures taken from of the waterfall rushing through and below the Kaufmann’s estate. “This is amazing.” I repeated this over and over, so in awe of the building that the ineloquence of my words would have been alarming if I hadn’t recognized the brilliance of the space itself and the inadequacy of language to express my feelings for the architecture. Admittedly, it can take some reality checks to actually appreciate the reality of some events. The world of experience is a rich one, and the ubiquity of the media should not take that away. We should be so lucky to engrain in our minds the words of Sean Maguire’s monologue during the “Taster’s Choice moment between guys.” The slow rush of the water due to lack of rainfall in Mill Run, PA recently did not detract from my experience. I was there. I stepped on the fallen leaves, the dirt, the sticks around the house and touched the granite ledges lining the stairs, the masonry on the cantilevers. Jenna, Josh and Lou were there. Over 1200 miles, we’re back. But we were there. It was amazing.
Falling Water
Sean Maguire
I’m gratified to see that the experience of “[being (t)here]”created such a stir in you. You are absolutely correct and no amount of photos, pics, thumbnails, videos or downloads ever approach actual physical involvement.
ReplyDeleteWright challenges people. Thinking they were doing their son’s aging teacher a favor, the Kaufmans asked for a simple summer cottage. FLW dared them with this massive structure buried in and trusting out of a rock, to live in, on and surrounded by what was supposed to be quite literally the focal point of their view. Why look at a waterfall when you can live in it instead?
It’s this “I dare you” approach that fascinates me about his work and his life. How many times was this guy dismissed and consigned to oblivion only to proffer some brassy, ballsy, imperious middle finger to people who presumed themselves to stand in judgment?
Is it too mawkish to say that FLW and FW remind me that sometimes we have to dare ourselves to leave behind those concepts with which we are accustomed and grown comfortable/complacent? Truth be told, I had some reservations about whether or not to include “other people” in my first trip to FW. Having been entranced by it from afar for a long, long time, I wondered what sort of companion(s) would share in my excitement or anticipation. I had some doubts as to your/their/anyone’s level of appreciation going in. Fine, I thought I’d have to deal with a bratty toned chorus of “I’m bored” and “can we go back to the bar now?” But my understanding of Wright has also always included some element of unexpected juxtaposition. The three of you provided this in spades. For me, the weekend had as much to do with the company as the locales. I am going to try to remember that expectations, whether high or low (read Pittsburgh), are rarely accurate.
But you were there. So you know these things. In reading the above, I suspect you also contend that the proliferation of media too often serves as a substitute for physical experience. But what comes after that experience? That’s a real challenge.