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12 of 12 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Structure, Architect, Client: A Fine History, December 14, 2003
Fallingwater is quite out of the way. It was a country house, a weekend retreat, and as such was placed way in the Pennsylvania woods. Yet every year, 140,000 people visit it, and Franklin Toker demonstrates in _Fallingwater Rising: Frank Lloyd Wright, E. J. Kaufmann, and America's Most Extraordinary House_ (Knopf) it is the most-visited home in the United States except for those visited for history or for an association with a personality. People come to see Fallingwater because it is an architectural masterpiece. And yet, as Toker says, "Visiting Fallingwater has only a little to do with architecture and engineering: the quality we perceive here is essentially spiritual." Because of the deep allusions to nature (the most common remark is that the house seems to have been part of the surroundings or to have grown out of them naturally), every visitor from every culture, even one who has no love for modern architecture, finds something appealing in the building. Toker, a professor of the history of art and architecture at the University of Pittsburgh, obviously loves his topic, but more importantly, he knows not only twentieth-century architectural history but specifically the history of one of the main commercial builders of Pittsburgh. There is plenty to read about Wright here, but the world knows him well already (though the book does puncture myths, some complimentary and some not). E. J. Kaufmann, however, if known at all is known as the man who built Fallingwater. He was an astute businessman, a Pittsburgh department-store tycoon and philanthropist. Wright needed the house because at the time his reputation had stalled and he had no clients, and Kaufmann needed the house to redress the anti-Jewish snobbery of Pittsburgh. It worked for both sides wonderfully. That does not mean they had an easy relationship. Wright demanded loyalty of his clients, worshipful obedience, and got it much of the time. But Kaufmann was not worshipful, and could not be bullied. After the unalloyed success of Fallingwater, he continued to build personal and commercial structures, sometimes dangling the commission in front of Wright, sometimes getting plans but never building with him again. They were the city Jew and the Midwestern isolationist, and as Toker reflects, it is amazing they accomplished anything at all. Toker tells all about the most memorable aspect of the design, the overshoot balcony, which was a late addition to the plan. Toker makes plain that Wright had a brilliant and intuitive sense of form and structure, but he was not an engineer, and Fallingwater was imperiled by the start. Only recent reinforcement cables have kept it from falling down. Toker includes a fascinating chapter about the "hype" and the "buzz" that surrounded the house from its beginnings. Wright's friend, Henry Luce, got the building into his own magazines and into newspapers all over the world. Ayn Rand took details of the Fallingwater story and included them transformed into fiction for her novel _The Fountainhead_. A final chapter is devoted to Kaufmann's son, Edgar Junior, who was briefly a student of Wright's (not a happy time for either). He was "an important American aesthete of the twentieth century," but he also cultivated the idea that he was the real spark that got his dad to erect Fallingwater. He may have been deluded or lying, but he did take loving care of the place, donating it to the Western Pennsylvania Conservancy which makes it accessible to the public. He was himself one of the many sources consulted for this big and well-illustrated volume. Toker is an obvious fan of the house, and of Wright, and of Pittsburgh, and his enthusiasm shows in richness of detail and anecdote in a volume that shows architecture to be surprisingly exciting.
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