Views of Falling Water

Speaking of field details…

I don’t know if Frank Lloyd Wright was being disingenuous in accommodating a tree among the beams of his entry walkway or not. I imagine his respect for the tree was genuine because there’s no mistaking his love of the site expressed in the interaction of the house with the rock boulders in the landscape. Take a look at the natural rock formation in the photo below.

This photo was taken from one of the bedroom decks looking down toward the living room. From the living-room deck looking back toward the kitchen, it is the rock formation on the right.

Instead of blasting the rocks away, the architect accommodated them inside the house in a number of places. You can see them as you head down the narrow stairway to the basement and in the basement itself.

The exterior wall of the kitchen sits directly on the natural rock. Dressed rock is added sparingly to make a good fit.

Windows extend below the counter down to the floor so that from inside the kitchen there is no mistaking the relationship between the house and its landscape. (The copper tray below the counter is sitting directly on the floor–the part of the natural rock that is inside the kitchen.)

In the living room, the part of the rock inside the house is revealed as the hearthstone.

More than any other single feature, I think, the use of living rock as the house’s central hearth reveals the architect’s deep love of the site landscape.

Views of Falling Water

I can’t say that field details are the best part about Falling Water, but they sure are great.

A field detail is a part of the structure that responds to a particular feature of the site, as opposed to those details drawn up as part of the design. It shows a great tenderness on the part of the architect toward a natural feature–the willingness to bend or alter the building out of pure respect and appreciation for what’s already there.

The walkway to the front door, for example, is shaded by an arcade of non-weight-bearing beams. I can’t be sure, but here is what looks to me like a field detail of one of the beams.

The tree looks a bit young, since the house was built in 1936-39. I’d guess that this detail was built to accommodate some other, older tree that has since passed along to the Great Tree Heaven in the Sky; and the owners ay have replaced it with a similar but younger tree to preserve the meaning and sense of the detail.

Isn’t this in fact the most eloquent evidence of a reciprocal love affair between the building (architect/owner) and its natural environment? The love in this detail moves me to tears.