The Wright Stuff

If you foolishly ignore beauty, you'll soon find yourself without it.  Your life will be impoverished.  But if you wisely invest in beauty, it will remain with you all the days of your life.

~Frank Lloyd Wright

If you could spend 24 hours with any person, whether they are still alive or have passed before us, who would you choose? Several people come to my mind, but there’s one in particular I would love to corral for a day.

I don’t know why I find him so fascinating, but it's probably because he definitely was not the average 2.5 children, dog and station wagon kind of guy. He’s been labeled as radical, eccentric and pretentious. But the man was also a gifted visionary who literally thought outside the box and was not the least bit phased by contradicting the mob. It’s that rebel thing. Unfortunately, he died in April 1959, just months before I made my appearance in this world. I may not have been able to personally lend an ear to his take on life and love and architecture, but the 500+ completed works of Frank Lloyd Wright provide me with insight as to what made him tick.

In my travels over the years I’ve had the pleasure of touring many of his buildings. Taliesin in Spring Green, Wisconsin; the Dana Thomas House in Springfield, Illinois; the Burton Wescott Residence in Springfield, Ohio; his infamous Fallingwater in Bear Run, Pennsylvania; the Gregor S. Affleck and Melvyn Maxwell Smith residences in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan; the Gordon House in Silverton, Oregon; and the Guggenheim Museum in the Big Apple. But I really don’t need to journey any further than my own backyard to experience one of his most well-preserved architectural gems.

I first toured the Meyer May House while conducting research for a community college project in 2000. It’s amazing how quickly an entire decade flies by! Since my niece is fascinated by all things history, I had been telling her about the house for some time. When I asked Faith what she knew of Frank Lloyd Wright, she replied, “He built cool houses.” It was definitely time for me to revisit with a partner in crime in tow.

We arrived at 450 Madison Avenue and first headed to the Visitor Center. Before touring we viewed a short presentation on the history of the May family and the efforts to preserve their amazing residence.

Clothier Meyer May and his wife Sophie contracted with Frank Lloyd Wright to design their home in 1908 for $10,000. It was Wright’s first large commission in Michigan and one of only two residential structures (other than summer homes) from his Prairie style period.

The Mays had two children before Sophie succumbed to influenza in 1917 at the age of 38. Several years later when May remarried, Rae Stern and her two children moved in, and an addition was added to the house to accommodate the newly enlarged family. The Mays divorced in the late 1920s and Meyer May eventually died in 1936. The house remained empty for the next six years before it was purchased and rezoned as multi-family housing. Needless to say, many modifications were made to it over the next 40 years.

After Steelcase acquired the house in 1985, extensive research was done to determine its original design. Bit by bit, Wright’s 1909 vision was revealed. With an unlimited budget—which was exceeded! (the actual figure is top secret, but rumored to be between $4 and $10 million)—the restoration took two years and included demolition of the addition, as well as painstaking attention to hundreds of exterior and interior details. The Meyer May House opened for visitors in 1987.

Our docent, Sue, led us on our tour of what is touted to be the most completely and beautifully restored of all Wright’s Prairie houses. In addition to free admission, one the best parts is that photography—even with a flash—was permitted inside the house.

The two-story, T-shaped construction of pale brick with flat roofs is purposefully different from the architecture typically found in the Heritage Hill. The other homes in the neighborhood are overwhelmingly vertical, but the Meyer May house emphasizes the horizontal line. Its broad overhanging eaves draw the eye outward rather than upward.

Wright purposely sited the house on the property line of the corner lot where it resides to take full advantage of the southern exposure and to create a spacious yard for the perennial gardens. A feature unique to the May house is Wright’s use of copper grillwork which accents the living room windows.

As is typical in Wright’s Prairie design, the May house has a hidden entrance. It enhances privacy by deterring uninvited passers-by. You can’t simply walk up and knock on the front door if you don’t know where it is!

Generous banks of art glass windows and skylights allow sunlight to pour into the living room. They were stunning, but it unfortunately was gloomy and overcast on this February day; photographing them was difficult. Thank goodness for Photoshop!

Interior materials were chosen for their natural beauty and also emphasized the horizontal. Iridescent strips of gold art glass were placed in the grout lines of the central fireplace which anchors the house. Wood was rarely painted, stone was left unpolished, and furniture was built in wherever possible.

Neidecken’s pastel hollyhock mural wraps around a dividing wall between the living room and dining room. Painted over during years of alterations, it was carefully recovered from beneath six layers of paint.

Formal high-backed chairs and a four-postered dining room table with attached light fixtures create a room within a room. To the amusement of her children, Mrs. May put fish bowls under each light!

On the second floor one child’s bedroom opens onto an upper balcony, while another faces the gardens. Wright-designed furniture is supplemented by Arts and Crafts pieces of the same period.

One of the twin beds in the master bedroom is a Wright-designed original; the other is a reproduction. On the north wall is a smaller but similar version of the living room fireplace. An adjoining morning room is used for dressing, reading and relaxing.

The house is just as spectacular as I remembered it being in 2000 and, even better, as it was when the Mays lived there in the early 1900s. After touring, I asked Faith what she had learned about Frank Lloyd Wright. Her reply? 

“He built REALLY cool houses! It was like stepping back into time.” 

Indeed, the path of the great architect may not have literally crossed with mine, but this house definitely speaks to me. When you’re in the neighborhood, you should also discover what Frank Lloyd Wright had to say.

Meyer May House

450 Madison Avenue, N.E.

Grand Rapids, Michigan

Open to the public year-long

Tuesday and Thursday 10 a.m. to 2 p.m.

Sunday 1 to 5 p.m.

Free admission!

Love: II

Flowers are love’s truest language.
~Park Benjamin

Candy is dandy, but these were a much better Valentine's Day surprise.  They look lovely, smell wonderul and are noncaloric!

Love

Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning.
~Author Unknown

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Are You My Mother?

A hundred years from now it will not matter what kind of house I lived in, how much money I had, nor what my clothes were like. But the world may be a little better because I was important in the life of a child.

~Dr. Forest E. Witcraft

I am not a kitten.

I am not a hen.

I am not a dog.

I am not a cow.

I am not a boat or a plane or a SNORT!

I am not a bird and, contrary to the rest of the story, I am not a mother.

I never got in line when they were handing out maternal genes. I don’t have eyes in the back of my head or the patience of Job; my stomach gets really queasy when it comes to bloody knees, poopy diapers and projectile vomiting (I actually once witnessed the latter; it wasn’t pretty); and I possess little to no tolerance for whining and temper tantrums. I admire parents who can handle all this and much, much more 24/7 with a mere shrug. It’s one job I know I couldn’t do with confidence.

But do I love being an aunt! That role allows me to bypass most kid unpleasantness and dive directly into the groovy … like being a mystery reader for Sarah and Olivia’s class.

Since I had no idea of what I should read (for some reason I didn’t think Lady Chatterly’s Lover would be a good choice), I had their Mom do a bit of investigative work and learned one of their favorite books is P.D. Eastman’s Are You My Mother? Turns out most of their classmates were on the same page (pun intended!). Who knew that all it took to get six- and seven-year-olds to sit still on the edge of their seats the carpet was Dr. Seuss? Too much fun!

(Note to self: Work on better posture!)

A big thanks to Sarah, Olivia and Mrs. Underwood and her first grade class for letting me be a part of their school day and lives!

Early Spring?!?!??

Each of us is a being in himself and a being in society, each of us needs to understand himself and understand others, take care of others and be taken care of himself.

~Haniel Long

Just as he’s been doing every February 2 since 1887, Punxsutawney Phil once again poked his head out to calculate the end of winter. This time, as he has done only 15 times in his 124-year history of predicting, he didn’t see his shadow and signaled that spring is right around the corner. Either Mother Nature didn’t get that memo or was attempting a last hurrah.

Call it Snowmageddon, Snowpocalypse or simply Blizzard 2011. Regardless of moniker, it amounted to a whole lotta snow. I distinctly remember the storm of 1978 to which this one was compared. Back then my sibs and I enjoyed a snow day in the winter wonderland. (Note to Mom: See if you can find those pictures!) This time around, however, I opted to spend my day off in the comfort of a warm, cozy house. Isn’t that why picture windows were invented? As a blogger and wanna-be photographer, I probably should have more purposefully documented the monumental event with a gazillion photos, but decided not to go overboard with the camera for two reasons. First, I don’t think pictures really do it justice. You don’t realize how much 18” of snow amounts to until you open the garage door and are confronted with a wall of knee-deep accumulation. Second, and more importantly, I was kinda enjoying aforementioned warm coziness inside and really wasn’t in the mood to trudge through all that cold fluffiness outside. You know how I feel about winter … even without a whole lotta snow.

By early afternoon, though, it had finally quit tumbling from the sky. My neighbors were out in full force clearing the aftermath. I figured I should probably follow suit and make an effort since my snowplow guy hadn’t shown his face or truck. In the time it took me to snap (count ’em) one picture and clear a mere shovel-wide path down the sidewalk from the porch, I was done. The snow wasn’t particularly heavy, but did I happen to mention there was a whole lotta it? And I was still recovering from the sledding incident. At the rate I was going, it would likely take me until June to reach the street. What’s a girl to do?

I’m a pretty independent woman and usually do things myself.  Fortunately, I’m also a pretty smart cookie and know when to cry, “Uncle!” (read: “Help!!!”).  This was one of those instances. When my neighbor John pulled up on his ATV accessorized with a plowing blade and offered his assistance, I didn’t think twice. It took him a good half hour, and wasn’t exactly neat and pretty when all was said and done, but at least my driveway was cleared and I was no longer snowbound. He refused my offer of gas money and said with a shrug, “That’s what neighbors are for.” Great guy!

The next morning my street still had not been plowed. You guessed it … I managed to get stuck at the end of my driveway. After a bit of drive-reverse-drive-reverse-drive-reverse-drive action (and a whole lotta swearing), I finally managed to position my car in the two-track leading out of my subdivision. I prayed I wouldn’t lose a muffler or other vital component as I listened to the snow scrape the underbelly of my car all the way to the main thoroughfare. Fortunately, after that it was smooth sailing to the office.  (In hindsight, not the best time of year to take on a temporary assignment.)

A quick call to other neighbors that afternoon confirmed our street had finally been plowed around 4 p.m. I wouldn’t be home until late evening and dreaded having to tackle what surely was now another mound of snow at the end of my driveway. Though I didn't really want to, I inquired if Don (a/k/a my lawn boy) would be able to clear it for me. Barb didn’t hesitate for a minute and told me it would only take him a few minutes. Needless to say, I was elated to arrive home that night and cruise right into the garage. More great people!

So what’s the point of this post? That I’m not fond of winter? That there’s a whole lotta snow during a blizzard? That I really need to hire a different snowplow service next year? Nope. What I’ll take away from Blizzard 2011 is that I live in a great neighborhood with wonderful people who don’t hesitate to pitch in, and that every now and then it’s okay to be taken care of.  Now the plan is to pay it forward … and realize I don’t have to wait for a crisis situation to do so.