Organic Architecture and Sustainability

Stuart Graff Explores Ecosystems and the ‘Intrinsic Nature’ of the Places Where We Live, Play, Work

By Brian R. Hannan*

Stuart Graff

For Stuart Graff, “sustainability” is the newest front in understanding Frank Lloyd Wright’s concept of organic architecture and its implications for a 21st-century world.

“We live in a time where, on one hand, we pay a lot of lip service to notions of sustainability,” the president and CEO of the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation said. “But what do we revere? We revere buildings that have no connections to the world around them – at least many people do. Why are we revering those buildings as opposed to the buildings that call attention to themselves because they just become a part of the fabric of a city, a community, a landscape?

“Those are the buildings we should be revering because they are doing the work of nature,” Graff said. “They are allowing human endeavor to be a part of nature as opposed to being the exception from it.”

In April, Arizona-based Graff presented a pair of lectures on sustainability – one in the Golden Rondelle at the S.C. Johnson & Son Inc. corporate headquarters in Racine and another in the Monona Terrace Community and Convention Center in Madison. Bringing a mindfulness to how we manage change in a modern society and efficiently use finite natural resources “fits into American values,” he said.

“You can go back to the ‘Declaration of Independence’ and go back even further to John Locke’s enlightenment philosophy in which he explores the idea of laws from nature, which includes concepts like equality and liberty. Then look at the way Ralph Waldo Emerson treated them, speaking of the natural law as this spiritual thing that seems to come out of the land itself,” Graff said. “It is this thing that just blossoms and flows, and Wright picks up on that throughout his entire life and body of work.”

Like Wright before him, Graff acknowledges the challenge of capturing such lofty ideals in common sense language. But through his extensive reading and musing about Wright and transcendental principles, he said, “I keep coming back to this notion of an ‘ecosystem.’”

In this construct, Graff defines architecture as “sustainable” when its purpose and setting – its “intrinsic nature” – are connected to the land on which it is built.

“Trees grow because the nutrients in the soil make sense, when the amount of available water, the amount of light and the surrounding plants, animals and activity all allow it to thrive there,” he said.
“Why shouldn’t a building be doing the exact same thing and, for that matter, why shouldn’t a city be doing the exact same thing? And a person, their life and their activity be doing the exact same thing?”

Editor’s Note: In July 2018, Graff wrote about sustainability and Frank Lloyd Wright’s organic architecture in an article for the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation’s blog, “The Whirling Arrow.” The essay is titled “Organic Architecture and the Sustaining Ecosystem.”

* Note: Article based on an interview transcript made by Michael Ditmer, president of Wright in Wisconsin.

On the Wright Track

Andrew Pielage Chronicles Architectural Trek Through the Badger State for Travel Wisconsin

Interview with Brian R. Hannan

For Andrew Pielage, a recent commission to photograph the Frank Lloyd Wright Trail for Travel Wisconsin amounted to a “whirlwind.”

“Photographing sometimes multiple Wright sites a day, for several days, was a big challenge but also super-fun,” the Phoenix-based advertising and architectural photographer recalled. “Being in Arizona, I could not scout the designs beforehand, so it was really giving the site a quick overview and identifying and reading the light in the space – and just going for it.”

Growing up in what he calls an outdoorsy, “adventurist family,” Pielage said he was “hooked” at first sight when he visited his first Wright-designed site – Taliesin West – in 2011. “The winding road up to Taliesin West immediately reminded me of long, dusty desert drives with my family growing up. I felt at home when I arrived. The relationship and respect between Wright and the landscape I loved became more and more obvious. Taliesin West was everything I loved about growing up with my family in Arizona.”

That same year, Pielage began teaching photography workshops at Wright-designed homes, including Taliesin, Taliesin West and Fallingwater. He’s also begun a personal project to photograph Wright’s extant buildings, increasingly becoming recognized in Wright circles for his craft in the process.

“My goal photographing a Wright site is to attempt to capture just 1 percent of that visceral experience you get when you enter a building. That’s what I would consider a successful photograph” Pielage said. “With photographing the remaining Wright sites, there is definitely a documentary aspect to the project as well. These images will represent the current state of Frank Lloyd Wright designs in the 2000s.”

What is your “favorite” Wright design?

I tend to dive deep in my research into each Wright site before I photograph it, and it’s tough not to fall in love with it. With that said, I do have a few Wright sites that tend to stay with me longer than others. You don’t just see Wright’s designs, you can feel them when you walk in and around them.

That was especially true in Unity Temple. Walking into that space, I felt like all those lines were just wrapping around me; I felt like the space was holding me in its loving and peaceful arms. I ended up having to sit down and just breathe in the space for a few minutes before setting up my camera.

The David Wright house is another favorite. I was married there!

On the Frank Lloyd Wright Trail, my favorite “non-accessible-to-the-public” area has to be the reception area on the executive floor in the SC Johnson Administration Building. It had all the same features of the Great Workroom but was designed for one desk instead of an office full of them.

When you visit a Wright property, are you a tourist first or a professional photographer? How does the visceral experience of seeing the work in person inform the work?

Definitely a tourist. Time permitting, I usually have my contact give me a tour of the site before any equipment comes out. As we walk around, I jump from tourist to photographer – looking first at where the light is and its relationship to the design.

I don’t think I can put into words how I attempt to capture not only his architecture but also the visceral experience in the images. Great photography comes from the head and the heart, and I just have to trust and follow those instincts when I photograph.

As anyone that has visited a Wright site would know, you don’t just see his designs, you feel them. And that goes hand in hand with my favorite photography quote. “A good photograph you see, a great photograph you feel.”

Editor’s Note: Learn more about Andrew Pielage and his photography on his website: www.apizm.com.

Mirror Lake

© Lindal Cedar Homes

Lindal Cedar Homes Re-imagines the Seth Peterson Cottage for New Series

By Brian R. Hannan

In developing her master’s degree thesis at the School of Architecture at Taliesin (SOAT), Trina Lindal looked to Frank Lloyd Wright, the school’s founder, and his late-in-life work for inspiration.

“What are the essential Usonian elements?” Lindal wondered. “How do we respect that but also create a home for modern living?”

Answering those questions led Lindal and collaborating architect Aris Georges, a former Taliesin fellow and SOAT instructor, to create the Imagine Series. Seattle-based Lindal Cedar Homes launched it this past June in response to a licensing agreement proposal from the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation. Lindal is a granddaughter of company founder Sir Walter Lindal, a pioneer in building prefabricated homes, and a daughter of Bob Lindal, the current president and CEO.

The Imagine Series consists of seven homes inspired by Wright’s Usonian designs and design principles. The lineup includes what Lindal describes as “translations” of the Seth Peterson Cottage (Mirror Lake); the Bachman-Wilson House (Crystal Springs); the Gordon House (Silverton); the Jacobs I House (Madison); and the Penfield House (Willoughby) — as well as two Lindal-original homes, the Highland Park and the Mesquite.

Stuart Graff, president and CEO of the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation underscores that distinction. “While the houses are all inspired by Wright’s designs,” he said, “very importantly, we didn’t want to replicate Wright’s work. A ‘Frank Lloyd Wright house’ is a Frank Lloyd Wright house.”

Accordingly, Lindal and the foundation were guided by what Graff describes as the “intellectual underpinnings of a Usonian. How do you take a small space and make it feel like a big space by (leading viewers’) eyes in different directions, by connecting strongly to the outside world? How can these principles be deeply embodied in a house designed for contemporary dwellers and meeting contemporary needs?”

For Lindal, the Peterson cottage proved to be an obvious choice — both for its Usonian bona fides and also for its aesthetic as “that little cabin in the woods that people associate with Lindal.”

The Lindal translation of the Peterson cottage closely resembles Wright’s original. Notable differences include post-and-beam construction on Lindal’s 5-foot, 4-inch grid and the absence of mitred glass in the corners of the front window bank. The Mirror Lake is slightly larger at 958 square feet.

Graff predicts the Mirror Lake will be well-received. “There’s a lot of love for the Peterson cottage in the Wright community,” he said.

“Maybe a few people who stay there will, in turn, decide they love it so much they want to embrace the design — and they can go out and buy the kit. It’s a heckuva souvenir, if you will.”

Note: This article appears in the Fall 2018 issue of the semi-annual newsletter of the Seth Peterson Cottage Conservancy, which does not endorse the Lindal Cedar Homes’ Imagine Series.

The Seth Peterson Cottage

By Brian R. Hannan

When an opening at the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed Seth Peterson Cottage unexpectedly became available this week, I had only one thought: Road trip!

I recruited a friend, and we made plans to leave the next morning for a brief, overnight visit. I’d been wanting to stay at the cottage since I learned of it last fall while preparing for our outing to Taliesin, Wright’s home and studio in Spring GreenWisc. The cottage, however, was booked solid for all of 2017 and, for that matter, much of 2018.

Still, I made a daily habit of checking the reservation website, hoping for a cancelation. I was soon rewarded.

The Usonian-influenced Seth Peterson Cottage sits on a wooded promontory in what today is Mirror Lake State Park, in Lake Delton, Wisc. The one-bedroom, one-bath home features an open floor plan with flagstone floors, limestone and plywood walls and a large fireplace as a focal point in the living area. The furniture is based on the final construction drawings Wright delivered shortly before his death in April 1959.

A stone terrace along the cottage’s northern facade overlooks Mirror Lake, while near-floor-to-ceiling-height windows on the western side provide abundant natural light. The small-but-functional kitchen sits a few feet to the right of the front door.

A private bedroom and en suite bath are found at the rear of the house, in the southeast corner.

When we arrived, I was so excited to see the cottage that I saw past the overcast, gray skies and soggy, brown yard. I took a quick tour of the house — all 880 square feet of it — and then hurried to make some pictures before the daylight faded.

My friend and I then headed to the store to stock up for dinner that night (T-bone steaks, caramelized onion/mushroom and Caesar salad) and breakfast the next morning (poached eggs, toast, bacon and coffee). I built a blazing fire in the fireplace; after dinner, we sat around the hearth and talked over gin and tonic.

I especially enjoyed hearing this song play on my iPad during a lull in the conversation. (“The Light” by The Album Leaf)

Snow began falling as we chatted and continued overnight. We awoke to a winter wonderland.

Laying in bed that evening before I fell asleep, I thought of Peterson and the dream that brought him to this idyllic spot. His long-fought campaign to convince a reluctant Wright to design a house for him finally paid off, and he looked forward to sharing it with his fiancée.

And then Wright, a childhood hero with whom Peterson shared a birthday, died. One year and one day later, Peterson — troubled by that loss, the end of his engagement and mounting construction costs — took his own life. He never lived in the cottage that today bears his name and would not exist without him. I found myself feeling sad for, and grateful to, that young man for this gift, a legacy so many people will be able to enjoy on his behalf.