Midway Gardens Archives - Keiran Murphy

Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater in Pennsylvania.

Frank Lloyd Wright: architect of millionaires… or maybe not

Posted on 04/29/2024 | by admin

Reading Time: 5 minutes

In today’s post I’m going to write about the public perception of Wright as the millionaire’s architect, countered by his attempts to design and build homes for people in the middle class.

It’s not surprising

that when you think of Frank Lloyd Wright, you think he only designed for rich people.

Because

You hear he designed a house on a waterfall like the one you see at the top of this post.

Or that he designed everything at the house,

including plateware.

Which isn’t true, but you heard he designed everything so

Why not plateware?

If it sounds like I’m being snarky, I’m just repeating what even Taliesin tour guides wondered sometimes, either because we got really curious

hopefully not dangerously curious

until I had to satisfy my curiosity and confirm that he only designed plateware for the Imperial Hotel and Midway Gardens.

check out this page for some pretty plates

Regardless,

you probably heard his houses all cost too much money.

The perception by the 1950s was that Wright was an architect of the wealthy. In fact, the movie,

North By Northwest is an example of this.

This is the Alfred Hitchcock movie with Cary Grant running in a corn field while a crop duster barrels down on him.

And he runs across Mount Rushmore.

Before that, he sneaks up to the modernist home of character Phillip Vandamm (a Cold War spy). This home hangs off of the area behind Mount Rushmore near the end of the film.

The look of this home screamed “Frank Lloyd Wright” to people.

Um…. No.

Wright didn’t design the house. In fact, the house doesn’t exist.

But director Hitchcock wanted the house owned by the bad guy Vandamm to exude luxury. According to JetSet Modern’s article from 2001, Hitchcock

“was faced with having to find places and things that were universally recognized as belonging to the rich and powerful…. It meant getting the cooperation of the Plaza and…. coming up with a house for Vandamm.”

“In 1958, when ‘North by Northwest’ was in production, Frank Lloyd Wright was the most famous Modernist architect in the world…. His renown in the Fifties was such that mass-market magazines like House Beautiful and House & Garden devoted entire issues to his work. If Hitchcock could put a Wright house in his movie, that mass audience was going to get the point right away. Wright was absolutely the man to fill the bill Hitchcock needed….”

I found this article in The Wayback Machine.

See? I told you I used that site a lot.

But despite this popular conception

there’s evidence throughout Wright’s career that he really wanted to design moderate-cost homes for people.

And “Wright was not a shyster“

First,

if you’re in the Wrightworld, you know he tried in the 1910s for standardized building designs known as the American System Built Houses (ASBH).

These, which he tried to sell in the 1910s used standardized, milled lumber, and cut down on waste.

Check out

This well-written entry on the ASBH at Wikipedia.

Secondly, in the 1920s

He designed his “Textile-block houses“.

You see, Wright thought

the houses would be inexpensive because they were made out of concrete using aggregate from the site.

He wrote about this in his autobiography:

The concrete block? The cheapest (and ugliest) thing in the building world. It lived mostly in the architectural gutter….

Why not see what could be done with that gutter-rat?…

It might be permanent, noble, beautiful. It would be cheap.

An Autobiography by Frank Lloyd Wright, (Longmans, Green and Company, London, New York, Toronto, 1932), 235.

Additionally, the concrete could be cast onsite, cutting down on transportation costs.

But the concrete molds

for the blocks were complicated. And you had to cast

thousands of them.

For example, the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation tells us the Wright’s Ennis House in California has 27,000 blocks

As a result, Wright designed only 4 of those houses in California, and one in Tulsa, Oklahoma for Wright’s cousin, Richard in the late ’20s.

Btw: someone restored it and it’s for sale

And then the Great Depression started. But he still thought about houses for the middle class.

Then, in the 1930s Wright envisions another inexpensive house.

These homes, which he called “Usonian“, eliminated the attic and basement, included sandwich-wall construction,¹ and had furniture made out of plywood.

And, years ago, another tour guide told me that you could buy a sheet of plywood for a dollar in the 1930s.

Here’s a sign put out by the Jacobs family when they were building their house in Madison. They apparently paid for the design of the house by giving tours for 50 cents:

I got this sign from Building With Frank Lloyd Wright, by Herbert Jacobs, p. 51.

I’ve heard that Usonian designs were his most popular. The Wikipedia page I linked to above says Wright designed 60 Usonian houses.

And some people disagree with what others define as Usonian. Sometimes it seems like people² say anything he designed after 1936 is “Usonian”. Others say, no-no, it’s got to be only if the home has a small footprint. Others say that the home has to have in-floor heating.

But Wright’s intention seems to have been to construct moderately priced beautiful homes for people. He also encouraged people to construct the homes to save on costs.

Why?

Really: why did the guy do this?

I think he wanted buildings that beautifully integrated with nature and was probably willing to take any pay cut to get it to the largest group of people possible.

granted, like I wrote in the post “Wright was not a shyster”, with him, there’s a difference between the ideal and the reality.

Ok, it might have also been because,

as some would say to me on tours,

Architects are control freaks and he wanted the U.S. to look the way he wanted.

And if his designs were the way to do it, so be it.

First posted April 29, 2024
The image at the top of this post is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license. The image is available at Creative Commons, which has its licensing information and a larger version. I also posted this photo in “Frank Lloyd Wright Buildings are smaller than you think“.

Notes

1. kind of is what it sounds like: a layered construction that included insulation and was structural in a way that eliminated wall studs. So, it cut down on materials. “PreservationPricess” went into this at a blog they kept for 6 months in 2012:

“sandwich-wall construction”: vertical sheets of one inch thick plywood with a layer of roofing felt on each side, and horizontal cypress boards and battens screwed onto both sides…. The sandwich-wall construction reflected Wright’s desire for simplification within the Usonian house… [and] could be shop-built and easily erected on site.

2. or I could say real estate agents, but that gets me into another conversation. I’ll put a note to myself to write a post about how people glom onto “Wright-inspired”, or at least give you all links to dozens of conversations Frankophiles have every time we see “Wright-inspired”.

Photographs showing "Octagon" and "Cube" at Frank Lloyd Wright's Midway Gardens. Taken from the book The Life-Work of the American Architect Frank Lloyd Wright.

Missing Wright

Posted on 03/05/2023 | by admin

Reading Time: 7 minutes

Three photographs of statues at Midway Gardens, by Frank Lloyd Wright. The statues represent “attributes of geometry”¹. The two photos on the left show the Octagon statue, and the one of the right shows “cube”. I took this photo from my copy of the “Wendingen”.

No: not missing the man, Frank Lloyd Wright.

I’m talking about missing the building designed by Wright.

in other words:

Which destroyed Wright building would you like to see?

The Frank Lloyd Wright Building Conservancy says that ONE in every FIVE buildings he designed has been destroyed.²

Therefore, some Frankophiles play the game that they imagine which destroyed Wright building they want to walk through. So, it’s a chance to visit your favorite Wright buildings IN YOUR MIND.

Although, really, unless we live there or work there, most of us only have our minds as the vehicles to visit our favorite Wright buildings.
It’s a minor compulsion. We can deal with it if we want to.³

On that question

there are those who will vote for Taliesin 1 as their favorite destroyed Wright building. That is: his home, Taliesin, from 1911-1914.

btw, you can find Taliesin I in my blog here and at this link here, among posts of mine.

But, I am not one of them.

I mean: I do not think that Taliesin I was the “best” Taliesin.

That’s because I see Taliesin as a manifestation of Wright’s mental and artistic process, from the time he started it until the last day he saw it.⁴

Although, I have thought differently about Taliesin II in the last year or so. That was partially inspired by my thinking about Taliesin’s “unfinished wing” (like I wrote in the post of that title).

So, with Taliesin out of the running, which building do I wish I could see?

Midway Gardens

I have come to this conclusion recently. That is because I am currently reading Frank Lloyd Wright, The Lost Years: 1910-1922.⁴ This book from 1993 was by author, architect and architectural historian Anthony Alofsin. He developed it from his doctoral dissertation.

My husband gave me the book as a gift, so I’ve been underlining a lot and writing notes in order to maintain an understanding of what I’ve read.

Don’t worry, I’ve been underlining in pencil, so I’m not carrying on in some sacrilegious defacement. Although, I often keep my space in books by turning down the corners of pages.
I don’t know why I perform this mutilation. I guess you’ll have to deal with it.

What was Midway Gardens?

Edward C. Waller, Jr. commissioned Wright to design Midway Gardens as an entertainment, eating and drinking establishment in Chicago. It took up one square city block and was constructed next to the Midway Plaisance park in Chicago’s South Side. Waller wanted it opened as long as possible in the Midwest, so it had a summer garden (outside), and a winter garden (inside).

Waller intended it to be a venue where people could spend an entire evening. They could eat dinner and drink, as well as dance. That’s why it had a band-shell for live music.

How it got started:

Midway Gardens came about because Edward Waller, Jr. (whose father commissioned Wright) approached Wright with an idea to create an entertainment establishment similar to the beer gardens he had seen in Germany. My research for this post told me that beer gardens emerged in Germany in the 18^th Century. The website TripSavvy says that:

Maximilian I, Bavaria’s first king, … signed a royal decree that allowed brewers to sell beer, but not food. People compromised, enjoying the best beers direct from the brewer and bringing a picnic. Thus, the tradition of the biergarten was born.
https://www.tripsavvy.com/what-to-expect-at-german-biergarten-1519627

Beer gardens were sites where the whole family could gather for hours and see friends. Waller approached Wright on this at an interesting point: Wright had been in Europe with Mamah Borthwick in 1909-1910, absorbing a lot of ideas. So, this commission came in 1913 and gave him the chance to weave these ideas into a project.

With this commission,

Wright took all he had seen and learned in Europe. He designs something massive

Drawing from The Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation Archives (The Museum of Modern Art | Avery Architectural and Fine Arts Library, Columbia University, New York), drawing 1401.087.

The drawing above is most of the winter garden.

and all-encompassing

Drawing from The Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation Archives (The Museum of Modern Art | Avery Architectural and Fine Arts Library, Columbia University, New York), drawing 1401.156.

I mean: the drawing above shows both a ticket counter and cigar booth. Totally out of control, man!

Midway also had:

Light fixtures, stained glass designs, and a mural called “City by the Sea”.

He also designed these geometric concrete blocks suggesting movement that were veneered on the building’s exterior:

Additionally, he designed concrete figures embodying the spirit of architecture, and platonic shapes (which, if you didn’t know, were also just fine to look at). Two of these statues are in the three photos at the top of this post.

And then there were the vertical concrete figures known as “Sprites”, which people still really like.

One appears in the photo below, taken at Taliesin West. When I went to study there, I often took tours after working all week. I took the photo below while on one of them. It shows one of the sprites outside of the Garden Room at Taliesin West:

The sprites at Taliesin West are painted, like you see above. Several guides on my Taliesin West tours told the story that Wright had the sprites there, and that his daughter, Iovanna, went to him and said, “Daddy, I want to paint the statues,” and the paint on the Taliesin West spites is the result.

This story, in my opinion, might fall under what I call “the telephone game of tour guiding.”

I don’t know when the sprites came to Taliesin West, but I was told Wright bought the land in Feb. 1938. That would mean that Iovanna was 12 years old. “Daddy, I want to paint the statues” makes her sound like she was 5. So, I believe the story might be conflated a little bit. On the other hand, there were plenty of children growing up at T-West so maybe that’s what happened.
/Frankophile out

Wright also designed the restaurant’s plates, beer steins, and cigarette holders. This artifact page in at Steinerag.com/flw/index.htm has a great selection of them.⁵

Midway, in short, was awesome

A whole lotta gesamtkunstwerk goin on.

I mean:

it was a total work of art.

I don’t speak or read German; but, like some German words, it crams a lot of meaning into one word.

This is a video of a pretty cool model of Midway Gardens in the program known as SketchUp. It’s a 3-D modeling program and takes you all around the building so you can see the size of it and how it all relates together.

And Douglas Steiner (of Steinerag) wrote on the Midway Gardens design, below:

There are many classic Wright details. The basic material[s] are brick and patterned concrete blocks. There are cantilevered and trellised roof overhangs and cantilevered balconies, decoratively designed metal fascia cornices. Horizontal lines, columns, hidden entries, horizontal rows of leaded glass windows and rows of leaded glass doors that open outward, vases, light trees, pedestal bases and sculptures, many, many sculptures.

Steiner copyright from 2008.

Unfortunately, fate killed it.

First of all:

Its grand opening was June 27, 1914.

That was the day before the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand in Sarajevo. Which led to World War I.

Those of you who have read me for awhile know I have an interest in World War I. In part because I believe it’s “the Worst Mistake We’ve Ever Made as a Species“.

Additionally, Wright and his son, John, were finishing up one of the building’s murals when they found out about the fire (and murders) at Taliesin. This did not seem to effect business at Midway Gardens, but was/is a really sad note/coincidence.

Then, there were money problems.

Even I know that restaurants can bleed money.

But, while the first two summer seasons went well, there were still bills from before the establishment opened. In 1916, Edelweiss Brewery bought Midway Gardens, and it became the “Edelweiss Gardens.”

The Gardens limped through World War I, but finally,

there was Prohibition.

While overall I think it was a good thing that we in the United States kicked our habit of drinking,

you know, like drinking a liter of hard liquor a day,

it sentenced Midway Gardens to history.

Here’s Wright in his autobiography regarding the Gardens’ downfall:

…. And then the “affliction” fell. The Nation went dry.

That was the final blow….

[T]he Midway Gardens sunk to the level of the “beer-garden” without the beer….

“They” painted the chaste white concrete sculpture in more irrelevant gaudy colors, stenciled more cheap ornament on top of the integral ornament, wrecked the line and mass of the whole—until all semblance of the original harmony utterly vanished. Yes, a distinguished woman dragged down to the level of the prostitute is now its true parallel.
Frank Lloyd Wright, An Autobiography (Longmans, Green and Company, London, New York, Toronto, 1932), 187.

However:

even though fate doomed Midway Gardens from the start, what Wright designed is still glorious. Even if only in our minds.

Here are some resources:

And a great page on Midway Gardens from the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation.

And the link to Frank Lloyd Wright and Midway Gardens, the book by Paul Kruty.

First published on March 5, 2023.
I took this photo from The Life-Work of the American Architect Frank Lloyd Wright (1965; Santpoort, Holland: C. A. Mees, 1925), by Frank Lloyd Wright, H. Th. Wijdeveld, ed.
The “Life-Work” is the book publication of seven issues of Wendingen magazine that were published in 1924-25. Wendingen magazine was published in the Netherlands from 1918-32. Because of the link to the magazine, people refer to it as “the Wendingen”.

Notes:

1 Frank Lloyd Wright: The Lost Years, 1910-1922: A Study of Influence, by Anthony Alofsin (University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1992), 143.

2 The Building Conservancy determined that number in the late 1980s. Since then, with a few exceptions, they’ve successfully splashed daylight on endangered Wright buildings.

3 Nooo – after all, I can sleep without my blanket.

4 Not that there aren’t Taliesin details I’d like to see, along with those things I really wish he had not changed (as I wrote about here).

5 Douglas Steiner writes these pages. Sometimes I’ll check on items because he explains things really well.

Taliesin interior. On left: by Raymond Trowbridge, 1930. On right, by Keiran Murphy 2019.

Why Did You Have to do That, Mr. Wright?!1

Posted on 05/04/2021 | by admin

Reading Time: 4 minutes

Two views of the same space, 89 years apart.

Frank Lloyd Wright began his home, Taliesin (south of Spring Green, Wisconsin), in 1911 and worked on it almost continuously until he died in 1959. As researcher and historian I easily documented over 100 changes he made just to his home (that number doesn’t include the necessary construction after Taliesin’s first or second fires).

And this doesn’t count his work on the other buildings on the Taliesin estate; about which you can read at Wikipedia. If you go to the Taliesin (studio) page, there are links to the four other buildings on the estate. Yes, I did start all of the Wikipedia entries on those Taliesin estate buildings, why do you ask?

And the changes I numbered were just those that could be documented through photographs.

Taliesin is very important, yes

That’s why we call Taliesin a sketchbook. In addition, it was an experiment for the artist/architect/genius-extraordinaire [that looks like I’m being snotty, but I’m not].

I was told by someone who worked in the Wisconsin State Historic Preservation Office that when they began talking about Taliesin restoration, they didn’t want to create the Taliesin “zoo”. As they restored/preserved the building, they didn’t want to pick out what they thought were the “best” changes done there by Wright.

Their conclusion: restore Taliesin back to the last decade of the architect’s life, 1950-59. And as close to 1959 as possible/doable, combined with new technologies that wouldn’t screw up the building in the future. So that’s how, for example, Taliesin got geothermal heating and cooling.

And I agree. I fiercely want Taliesin to be as it was in Wright’s lifetime—as long as the “building envelope” is “sealed” to help the building survive long past my death.

YET

I wrote all of this because I have a confession: there are changes I really wish that guy hadn’t made to his home.

Some things that used to be at Taliesin just seem so cool. Their rarity is part of the attraction. And, yes, I love what is there today… but sometimes I really wish he’d left well enough alone.

Look below for an example.

The first photo, taken 1926-33, shows the entry to his living quarters. The part you see under the roof is what I’m talking about. Between those three stone piers were French doors. They opened to the exterior balcony that ended at a parapet behind where that teenage boy is sitting (he’s sitting on a little bit of roofing). He added the balcony in Taliesin III (so, after the second fire). It stood one floor above today’s “front door” at Taliesin.

Postcard of Taliesin, 1926-30. Unknown photographer — Postcard property of Patrick Mahoney. Used with permission. The photograph is published in *Frank Lloyd Wright’s Taliesin: Illustrated by Vintage Postcards*, by Randolph C. Henning, p. 61.

Then in 1942 (approximately), Wright constructed a roof over that balcony, making it into a storage room. Former Wright apprentice / longtime Taliesin Fellowship member John DeKoven Hill called the room “the hell hole”.

The same view in the 1950s:

The next photograph shows the same part of the building, with a roof where the balcony used to be. It’s the configuration one sees today:

Maynard Parker took the photograph above in 1955 by for House Beautiful magazine. Then you click on the photo above, at the website of its owners (the Huntington Library) it’s backwards from its correct orientation.

What you see in the 1955 photo by Parker/for House Beautiful, is great, of course. But I look at archival photos, or scan what’s in my memory, comparing it to what he had before 1942 and I want to whine: “oh man – why did you do that?”

Then, here’s what I’m thinking: “grumble, grumble – sketchbook — grumble grumble… architectural genius… grumble grumble… HIS gorram house… grumble…”

But what right do I have, given the mistakes from the past?

… you can’t deny all those times in which people, with the best of intentions, completely destroyed something.

Like so many buildings by architect Louis Sullivan in Chicago

And Wright’s Larkin Building in Buffalo

Check out this from the Buffalo City Gazette shows newspaper articles talking about the building’s decline

You get the point.

FINALLY

There’s also the fact that the National Park Service, which confers “National Historic Landmark” status, is firmly against people “creating a false sense of history.” That is a hard-and-fast rule.

Besides, if Taliesin had all the things in it that I really like it would end up being a Taliesin that never actually existed.

But I can still yell at him in my head, though.

Initially published on May 4, 2021

At the top of this page are two photos. The one on the left was taken in 1930 by Raymond Trowbridge (who I’ve written about) and is at the Chicago History Museum (and online here). I took the photo on the right a couple of years ago, showing the same room. You can tell it’s the same because what remains the same in the two photographs are the ceramics in the fireplace on the left and, against the wall, the built-in bench and the radiator cover. He lowered the ceiling in 1933-34 when a bedroom/sitting room was built one floor above for his youngest daughter, Iovanna Lloyd Wright.

¹ accompanied by lots of words for him that I cannot repeat in polite company.