A Hunting We Will Go.
The architectural
firm where I rub-a-day to generate the money to keep serving this web site
is experiencing a problem endemic to the profession at the moment: filling a
drafter position. Prosecuting the personnel search falls to my lot in the
practical ways of placing ads, calling headhunters, and so forth. There are
dozens, if not hundreds, of available jobs in southern California
architect's (and engineer's) offices who are all seeking that extra set of
shoulders to lean into the workload. The business of architecture is
something like dentistry or, in some cases, a beauty salon. Regardless of
where things are in the economic cycle of life people always need, sometimes
desperately, such professional services. Time and materials continue to be
spent, as they ever are, on the built environment.
Even with new construction
hitting the emergency brake and the pipers lining up to be paid for the
piranha frenzied engorgement by corporate banks on the greased sleaze of
sub-prime lending, people deterred from moving site altogether will still
seek "improvements" (a technical term used by building departments to
indicate change, purely in the sense of amendment, to a property; only the
hopefulness of language implies intrinsic betterment as a result). As
they have been for years now, architects are overloaded with work.
Competition for a good set of helping hands is stiff. This is true both for
what are euphemistically called "production offices," meaning firms that
crank out boilerplate drawings for strip malls, fast food restaurants, and
cookie cutter residential subdivisions, and those firms, large and small,
who want to actually practice architecture by adding some sort of design
value, with whatever degree of commitment to principle and expression of
talent they can muster.
Of course, architects that
work within a particular vein of practice like organic design are fishing in
an even smaller pond. CAD crews in Indonesia or Malaysia that can knock out
a set of construction drawings for a 10,000 square foot faux Spanish Revival
or Tuscan villa at twenty four hours notice and a charge of $20,000
(invisibly marked up by the American architect to $60,000 for the client) are not
going to work out well for firms dealing with uniquely expressive forms
related to local site, client, and circumstance. Such is yet another trench
in the hoary battle between historical revivalism and honest indigenous
architecture, this time bent into the pretzel of globalization. Small
stateside firms, whether yacht or dinghy-like, have to contend with the deep
pockets of supertanker-sized enterprises that can afford to sweeten the
dogged bitterness of soul-less design with high end medical, dental, and optical
insurance, 401K plans, four weeks of paid vacation a year to start, and
maybe a signing bonus or relocation package worth two or three months of
salary. The annual cost to a firm for even a minimally skilled CAD drafter
starts at $60,000 and goes up rapidly, particularly if the candidate happens
to work with the right CAD software package (AutoDesk dominates PC platforms like tuna in
a can but there are boutique programs such as VectorWorks and ArchiCad for
those who want salmon or smoked oysters with their Apples).
What, you may ask, could
such present day hiring dilemma have to do with Purcell & Elmslie? Are we
off on another one of those goofy grinds, like the one that discussed
real phasers and
teleportation (and generated more email from readers than most)? No,
indeed. What could be more relevant than the effort to recruit members of
the Team? Even without computer-aided graphics being in the mix, it could be
hard to get someone into the office who had that special mental hook
required for mutual benefit in the process of progressive design. The
successful candidate for the position at my office, for example, will have
to fit comfortably with an approach to design derived from over a decade of
association by the senior principal with Frank Lloyd Wright (as well as be
VectorWorks proficient). Where and how, we may wonder, could P&E have looked
for people similarly already in the mix?
Parker Noble Berry
1888-1918 |
|
Interstate National Bank
Parker N. Berry, architect
Chicago, IllinoisBy George, I
think he got it. |
As it happens, there were
two places. One of them was the same tank, Frank Lloyd Wright's
establishment at Taliesin. In fact, after surviving the murders and fire
there in 1914, Wright's drafter Herbert Fritz asked for work at P&E and was
immediately hired. The other place, naturally, was the office of Louis
Sullivan. This brings us to the touchy business of what has to be called
plainly for what it is, the poaching of able bodies. Most architects have a
certain deportment amongst themselves, however thin the patina may be, that
bears itself in words and ways which would never, ever be seen (in
the sense of getting caught) shoplifting studio help. Nonetheless, drafters
no matter how gainfully employed can develop a certain undercurrent of
dissatisfaction in their situations, often from brooding over various real
or imagined slights of being underappreciated, disregarded without proper
acknowledgement, or taken for granted. This can lead to conversations and
correspondences that vibrate through the network of their peers, and attract
the attentions of other architects like spiders tending to their webs.
Thus we arrive at an
interesting case study. Over the first four months of 1911, Mssrs. Purcell
and Elmslie attempted, jointly and ever so delicately, to leverage
Parker N. Berry out of Sullivan's office in
Chicago and into their own fold in Minneapolis. The first in
a series of
letters shows this to have been a happy aspiration on the part of Parker
Berry, one given hope by an initial conversation with Purcell. After
navigating the shoals of self-esteem and putting a price on himself, Parker
gets the offer he wanted. There are seven letters in the sequence, six of
which are now
posted. The last one from Elmslie is taking a LONG time to decipher.
Debris Washes Ashore.
Some of what is apparently the Merchants National Bank of Winona
furniture is up for auction at Sotheby's, although the sofa form is new
to me. The estimate runs from $10,000-$18,000, but the original rich
dark forest green leather is long gone. Whoever recovered the three
pieces (2 chairs and a sofa) could not have chosen a more inappropriate
and ugly color, at which misjudgment one can only shudder.
Worse, whoever wrote
the description for the sale catalog really ought to know better. While
I read most everything that comes to my eyes on P&E and sometimes
disagree for reasons of opinion, in all my years in the Caravan I have
never seen such a ridiculous and malformed statement pretending to be
fact about anything P&E as accompanies this sale. After regurgitating
the obligatory introductory truths, whoever penned this takes a flying
leap into an abyss of pretension, heedless of everything that
is documented about this chair form (underlined below): |
|
Sofa and two chairs (reupholstered,
badly)
Merchants National Bank
Purcell, Feick, and Elmslie
Winona, Minnesota 1912
Source: Sotheby's |
"The Minneapolis-based architectural firm
of Purcell, Feick and Elmslie was one of the leading proponents of the
Prairie School style. In addition to being distinguished for their
residential commissions, the firm designed a large number of banks
throughout the Midwest. Their bank buildings demonstrated a new and
progressive architectural vocabulary distinguished by box-like structures,
steel frames, brick facades, stylized terracotta ornament, pier-and-lintel
framing, arched entries, and integrated interiors. The sofa and arm chairs
in the current lot follow the 1912 design for the Merchants Bank of Winona,
the firms most celebrated bank commission. In addition to the architectural
plan, the firm provided designs for all aspects of the interior, including
leaded glass windows and a large sky light, grilles for the tellers,
lighting fixtures, and furniture. The progressive design of this seating
furniture is suggestive of the modular, geometric designs synonymous with
Austrian furniture of the period, notably by Koloman Moser. Purcells travels
abroad and exposure to Austrian design likely served as the inspiration for
these forms. Variations of this iconic chair design were also used in
the living room of Purcells own Minneapolis residence, the Edna S. Purcell
House, which was named after the architects wife."
What utter rot, as an Englishman
might say. Or, perhaps, bollocks.
- First, William Gray Purcell didn't
design these chairs. The drawings for these forms are all from the hand of
George Elmslie, and anyone even superficially acquainted with either the
existing literature or the P&E archives would know that. The original
sketch for the solution of this specific chair type, which I exhibited with one from the bank
director's room in the Minnesota 1900 exhibition in 1994 and
accompanied with a significant comment in the monograph published by the
University of Delaware Press the same year, has a full discussion of the
where's and why's of the design in Elmslie's own cursive hand.
-
- Second, Purcell was in Europe in 1906 and
later in 1928, but George Elmslie had a one way voyage to America in 1885. While
Elmslie read voraciously and kept abreast of a wide range of journals,
there is not a shred of evidence that I have ever seen where Elmslie
mentions the Secessionists as relevant to his thinking in any way. This
maladroit line of description about the Winona chairs, which now rests
eternal as a reference at Sotheby's for any future sale of the pieces, is
truly an appalling insult toward the integrity of P&E concerning their
design principles that, after a half
century of scholarship on their behalf, should not be happening.
-
- Third, the effort to shift authorship from
native American genius to being derivative of European sources shows the extent to
which some people still presume, for whatever gratification, that creative force can go only from east
to west in early 20th century design. Eurocentric thinking is obviously,
and obliviously, alive and well. I'll leave it to the reader to meditate
on Anthony Alofsin's views in Frank Lloyd Wright: The Lost Years,
1910-1922.
-
- Lastly, mysteriously and perhaps
disgracefully,
there is no provenance given for this furniture, which is telling for the
obvious reasons. The sale label for the suite is merely "A SOFA AND PAIR OF
ARMCHAIRS, THE DESIGN FROM THE MERCHANTS BANK OF WINONA, MINNESOTA."
Where has this furniture been? How did it get there? Who is responsible
for the grisly defacement of the current leather covering?
-
Just call me Mark Quixote, I guess. While I
attribute the intellectual slag of the above underlined pronouncement to one
blinkered individual, I have only praise for
Sotheby's in general. I relish each new catalog I receive, and access to
their web site is a research paradise of educational images. If you haven't
signed up for a free account to get their emailings, you should give
yourself a gift. The "American Renaissance" is a periodic series of auctions
where objects from Frank Lloyd Wright, the Griffins, Maher, and P&E appear
with some regularity; some of these have already
been noted here on Organica. The Winona furniture is being offered in
"Fine 20th Century Design & An Important Private Collection of Art Deco
Figures" [Sale L07670] on May 2, 2007, as Lot 113, in London. Another reason
to look forward to coming into money, as if I
needed any more: I could rescue objects like this and send up a nice special
order to Garrett Leather.
Coming up.
Due to the impetus of an archaeological dig
through a couple of my many storage boxes occasioned by the recent visit of
Prairie School Traveler John Panning, I am about halfway through an
inventory of my research materials. The Parker Berry letters turned up as
part of this process, wherein I am putting everything in protector sleeves
and thence into three ring binders (which the original P&E archivist John
Jager once remarked are "a mighty lever in the work of the historian").
Photocopies and not a few originals received as gifts from the Purcell
family and his surviving friends over the past twenty years have proven to
contain far more than I ever realized. A few years ago, as well, Bruce
Brooks Pfeiffer kindly sent me copies of a two inch thick pile of P&E office
correspondence and related documents not present in the Purcell Papers,
drawn from years of research by Bill Marlin before his death and including
more than a few letters by George Elmslie and a much suffering Alphonso
Ianelli about the Woodbury County Court House. There seems to be an
increasing momentum here, and for the foreseeable future such is likely to
form the content of the Grind. That, and I am finally getting through other
documents long stalled out in the typing queue. Looks like an update about
every two weeks is a good schedule. See you on May Day.
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