Trending /// Part 3: The Open Plan
At the heart of the debate about architectural determinism is a long running trend, the open concept.
One could say the reason we’re writing Wayfinder is this question: whether, and to what extent, our physical spaces shape who we are in profound but hidden ways.
We’re wrapping up our series on trends with open plan living.
Open concept or open floor plan living is an architectural modality that blends the living and kitchen spaces, creating one continuous room. As a trend, it has taken on a life of its own thanks to HGTV shows and before/after IG photos that show how clean and fresh design can be had by simply knocking down a few walls. But below the surface, the promise of the open concept by one of America’s Architectural prognosticators was a vision for an “end to the present social order”.
Order from Chaos
Wright, while not the father of the open concept, certainly did much to cement its legacy into the American Vernacular. In his Prairie School typology, Wright created homes that shared similarities with the Arts and Crafts movement. The ornamentation was obvious, but uniform, the windows were narrow, long and ubiquitous, and the design was somewhat complex, but felt simple and intuitive, commonly using compression and contraction to give its inhabitants a feeling of release when they entered the open spaces. Instead of the common rooms beside rooms design of his contemporaries, Wright built one continuous room that served as a “unified whole” in order to bring “order out of chaos” (1). His style and craftsmanship served as an antidote to the movement towards mass production.
But what really is so alluring about open floor plan living? On the surface, it sounds like a fix-all. You can instantly provide much needed light to a space that otherwise felt cramped, dark, and isolated from the rest of the house. And, it could allow a Mom or Dad to be in the kitchen while still keeping a watchful eye on their little ones.
It also answered an existential question — do we exist for the home or does it exist for us, to serve our purposes? Do we order our lives differently when there are walls between the kitchen and living? Furthermore, as Wright suggested, does the simple act of tearing down walls change the dynamic of husband/wife relationship to the family and the jobs they perform? Does it change the “present social order”?
FLW promoted a brand of architecture in step with the individualistic ideals that were fundamental to the founding of America. He famously hated cities, and wanted to build a new form of living that was centered on the individual.
Traditional forms, like traditions themselves, must die in order that great Tradition may live. To understand that Truth is to understand the growth that is Democracy and make way for the return of worship to the life of the Citizen and to the character of the Nation.
When Democracy Builds Frank Lloyd Wright
FLW had a grand vision, one that promised to bring order from chaos, an antidote to what he termed the “fibrous tumor” that is city life. In this, I pause and ask myself, when I think about the changes that come about from open plan living, am I overly focused on the internal workings within the four walls of my home to bring about some fundamental change within me or my family? Am I perpetuating the belief that I am transformed when my home changes? Put differently, could the social order have changed without open plan living? We have to recognize what this represents — a belief in architectural determinism — or that once my walls change in some way, I will change.
When confronted with this question, I tend to think that the belief in architectural determinism has gone too far because I believe that we change more fundamentally because of other people — our friends, families, neighbors, and even the strangers we encounter on a daily basis.
Further musings
It’s easy for me to be critical of Frank Lloyd Wright, but I feel his legacy, much like the infamous “Master Builder” of New York Robert Moses, deserves a closer and perhaps more nuanced look. While Moses is often viewed as a warning of how public officials can become autocratic rulers with too much unchecked power, he also built green spaces all throughout New York that make the city what it is today. Similarly, Frank Lloyd Wright was singularly effective at further refining the American idea by way of the homes we live in. He appealed to the individualistic tendencies in all of us.
But let me defend FLW. I can become obsessed over minute or trite details, and I appreciate others that do the same. Wright obsessed over his projects, and the tiny details that made his work, in my opinion, so good. As Charles & Ray Eames said, “The details are not the details; they make the product”.
Whenever I contend with FLW’s legacy, I must ask myself what I would have done differently. A plain critique of FLW ignores the complexities of his time and place, and how innovation happens, specifically within the home. The easy critiques, that his obsession with the details caused him to overlook necessities like a leak free roof, or that he was an impassioned individualist that sought to decrease density and weaken the city, ignores the fact that Wright’s propensity towards individualism was shared by a majority of Americans.
On the one hand, I love Wright’s design, his vision and the spaces he created. When you walk into a space that Wright created, you can’t help but feel that it is an innately human space, much like Penn Station felt immense and beautiful before its destruction in 1963. On the other hand, I disagree with his vision for America 2.0, which seems to be a more individualistic way of living than the messiness of cities that Jane Jacobs wrote about in Death and Life. Much like Moses, FLW’s legacy will be an ongoing debate about how we want to live in our homes.
As we wrap up this series on home design trends, I can’t help but think about alternatives that would not only shape our interior spaces, but shape us differently too.
First, I am somewhat encouraged by the thrift, practicality and “built with my own hands” spirit that DIY represents. But I wonder — could a Do It With Others (DIWO) movement take root, where perhaps you grab a table saw and a drill to help a neighbor finish that built-in shelving he’s been talking about?
And admittedly, the island can be an entertaining and functional addition to a home, especially when having guests or sitting around it with the kids while making Saturday morning pancakes (as we often do). But I wonder if the pendulum has shifted too far in the direction of entertainment at the expense of hospitality? And maybe the island is merely symbolic of this idea, but I sometimes need to remind myself that all that’s required to have someone over is the warmth of our home, a simple meal and good conversation.
Finally, the open plan is probably the most entrenched in our culture, perhaps because it seems like a better way to plan our kitchen and living spaces. And this leads me back to our original fundamental question: how do the lives that live within the fours walls of our home really change?
Sources
- PBS documentary on FLW — (highly recommend!) https://www.pbs.org/flw/legacy/essay2.html
- Brandon Donnelly Blog — “The Birth of the Open Floor Plan” https://brandondonnelly.com/2018/05/24/the-birth-of-the-open-floor-plan/
- The Atlantic — The Curse of an Open Floor Plan by Ian Bogost https://www.theatlantic.com/family/archive/2018/05/the-curse-of-an-open-floor-plan/560561/
4. Is the World ready for Frank Lloyd Wrights Suburbia https://archive.curbed.com/2017/1/4/14154644/frank-lloyd-wright-broadacre-city-history
Originally published at https://buttondown.email.
