When we first pulled up to Cedar Rock, I wasn't all that impressed. It's small. One level. Not a single window on the front. As soon as we walked in I revised my opinion. Frank Lloyd Wright hit it out of the ballpark here.
Twice a year Wright would stay at Cedar Rock in order to make sure that everything was still as it should be. When the owners first moved in, they took their food and their clothes. Wright had complete control over the project and designed everything, including the furniture. He even picked out the china, pots and pans, and appliances. This was a project in which Wright was allowed to be the artist, not just the architect.
Our tour group included a couple who are apparently remodeling their house. The wife was endlessly crooning about how the tables were such a good idea, and the fireplace was so beautiful, and the closets were too small. 'When it's time to do the kitchen in OUR house, we'll have to remember JUST HOW SWEET this teeny bathroom was!' or "Agnes was my type of gal!'. She was of the punch-people-in-the-arm-to-show-how-interesting-your-conversation-is persuasion. While talking at the person next to me, she punched me in the arm. She amazingly placed all the genius of the house at the owners' feet, rather than with Wright. Afterall, Wright had a mistress. Faultless logic, no?
As we were driving off, she crowed 'That Wright was talented scum!'.
Oh dear.
Oh dear.
The backside of the house.
Though you can hardly see it here, the fireplace is causing me some major fireplace-envy.
And I thought there were no windows!
The boathouse. It has a full apartment and a double-decker balcony.
Jared schmoozin' at the sheep-roasting sized spit.
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