Week One

The clicking of my right turn signal subtly announced that I was leaving behind the frantic rush-hour traffic on Frank Lloyd Wright Boulevard. Decelerating, I drove down the sinuous road snaking through the Sonoran Desert to approach Taliesin West—the site of my internship. With the early morning sun softly silhouetting the saguaros in the violet shadows of the McDowell Mountains, the schools and supermarkets that were so close by seemed so far away. Upon reaching the site, the stream of visitors shuffling in for tours added a holiday atmosphere to the otherwise peaceful setting. At that moment, I think that I sensed a little bit of the spirit of Frank Lloyd Wright’s vision for Taliesin West: a mixture of serenity and excitement.

Taliesin West. Source: Scottsdale Convention and Visitors Bureau

Although I had attended a ceramics program at Taliesin West a few summers ago, I was eager to become reacquainted with this inspirational building compound. I had forgotten just how extensive was the 500-acre site. The Taliesin West Campus is not just one home but a meandering series of buildings connected by walkways and terraces: a drafting studio, classrooms, a swimming pool, an orchard, two theaters, a library, archives, workspaces, and a dining hall. Student-built shelters scatter the surrounding desert. In fact, Taliesin West is not just the former winter home of Frank Lloyd Wright himself but the present-day headquarters of the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation, whose mission is to preserve the architect’s legacy, and the Frank Lloyd Wright School of Architecture. Consequently, the site exudes energy.

In fact, the buzz of activity was my immediate impression. After entering into the brimming bookstore to be greeted by the Human Resources representative, I toured the drafting studio filled with aspiring architects working at individual drafting tables. The filtered light entering from the translucent ceiling panels seemed perfect for drawing. I was surprised how many students were from foreign countries—Belgium, Sweden, Germany. Considering how many of the visiting tourists were also from other states and nations reinforced how Frank Lloyd Wright truly was an internationally renowned architect.

Drafting room. Source: taliesin.edu

Walking among the buildings invitingly opened up new vistas with each turn—fountains, statues, and plants all playing off the triangular angles of the architecture. After a few minutes, we came upon the office of my mentor, Ms. Shawn Rorke-Davis, where I conversed about my research plans. Together we then headed to the library. The knowledgeable librarian extended me an open invitation to use the wealth of material for my project and loaned me a few books on the founding of Taliesin West to begin my research.

After lunch with the architecture students and staff, I joined one of the guided-tours to view the entire compound, both Wright's personal quarters, including his bedroom, and public areas, like the movie theater. An interesting counterpoint to the desert landscape was the prominent placement of many Asian sculptures throughout the site. Some, I noticed, were slightly broken. The guide explained Wright’s belief in the perfection of imperfection—a wabi-sabi ideal I remembered from art class. These artworks were incorporated as part of the Wright’s “desert concrete” walls. Wright purchased a shipload of shattered sculptures from the Ming Dynasty to purposely incorporate this element. Ending the tour, I glimpsed a small cactus that had taken root in a crevice of the wall of the main building—a fitting tribute to Wright’s inspiration and integration of nature into his architecture.

Asian sculpture embedded in boulder-strewn wall. Source: azcentral.com

Over the next two days, I officially began my research, delving into my mentor’s extensive collection of Frank Lloyd Wright literature in her office. Specifically I focused on Frank Lloyd Wright’s book “In the Realm of Ideas,” Norman Brosterman’s “Inventing Kindergarten,” and Daniel Treiber’s “Frank Lloyd Wright,” to ground myself in Wright’s formative years and design philosophy.

Wright himself credits his creative vision to the toy Froebel blocks given to him by his mother as a child: “The maple wood blocks are all in my fingers to this day,” an 88-year-old Wright remarked in homage to the toys. The Froebel gifts were designed by Friedrich Froebel, a German educator who invented kindergarten. Integral to Wright’s educational philosophy of “learning by doing,” the blocks taught that a creation is never destroyed; it can only change through modification. Designs had to be modified in stages: all shapes had to be returned to a whole form rather than scattering pieces to disassemble and make a new creation. For example, all 36 blocks, columns, and squares in the sixth gift would be reassembled into its original three-inch cube form. 

Froebel Blocks. Source: froebelblocks.com

Unity Temple. Source: mcnees.org

This essential idea of design by modification of a single shape informed Wright’s design of the first UNESCO-nominated site that I would be studying: Unity Temple in Oak Park, Illinois. Basically, the building is a pair of cubes connected by a foyer to symbolize the link between the spiritual and temporal realms. Seeking to convey the Unitarian Transcendentalist philosophy of looking inward, Wright left the exterior as unpainted concrete to contrast the airy, colorful interior where religious services are held. However, vertical and horizontal elements neatly dovetail, fitting together like a young Wright’s Froebel blocks put back in their box.

Unity Temple Interior. Source: taliesinpreservation.org

Instructions for Froebel Blocks. Source: FroBlox

Armed with these insights, I began to brainstorm lesson plans based on Unity Temple, especially its cubic motif—deconstructing a cube to articulate a space with intersecting planes.