Although Ludwig Mies van der Rohe’s landmark Farnsworth House is in the distant town of Plano, on the Fox River about 20 miles southwest of Aurora, it’s as much a part of Chicago’s architectural legacy as Frank Lloyd Wright’s Robie House or Unity Temple. It was the first house Mies built in America, the forerunner to his great glass-and-steel towers (such as the 860-880 N. Lake Shore Drive apartments), and the specific inspiration for Philip Johnson’s own landmark glass house in New Canaan, Connecticut. Raised five feet above the ground to protect it from flooding, with walls of glass within a spare framework of white-painted steel, it seems to float in its wooded landscape. Mies biographer Franz Schulze has compared it to a temple, and architecture fans have treated it like one: from 1997 to 2002 Farnsworth House was open weekends to the public, and during that time thousands of people from all over the world made the pilgrimage.
Though he was only occasionally in residence, for more than three decades Palumbo proved a stalwart custodian. When a disastrous 1997 Fox River flood trashed the place like a rock band on a rampage, Palumbo picked up the hefty tab for a full restoration. He’d fallen in love with the house, and came from London to make sure it survived.
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Though the last state-financed rescue (of Frank Lloyd Wright’s endangered Dana-Thomas House) was more than 20 years past, the Friends seemed never to have seen the necessity of a Plan B. So it’s now back to square one, with the December 12 deadline looming. “Palumbo could have sold the house three years ago,” says Bahlman. “I think he’s terribly angry that he was jerked around by the state of Illinois.”
The LPCI could cut its $1 million check tomorrow because its finances are in a lot better shape than the average nonprofit’s. “We have five different funds that we maintain from an accounting point of view,” says Bahlman. “We basically have done well in the last couple of years, not only in events that we’ve run but also in contributions, foundation grants, some of which are restricted and some of which aren’t. Basically, the bottom line is that we currently have approximately $3 million in liquid assets.”
When Attorney General Madigan wondered why the state should pick up the entire $7 million tab if saving Farnsworth House was so important to so many people, she asked a valid question. The LPCI and the NHTP answered by putting $2 million where their mouths were. But though Bahlman insists that the state is completely and irretrievably out of the picture, it shouldn’t be let off the hook so easily. The state could guarantee bonds in an amount equal to the purchase price of Farnsworth House, giving preservationists several years before the bonds mature–not just the weeks until the auction–to raise the funds required. The Department of Natural Resources could contribute by arranging to buy the 38 acres of the Farnsworth grounds that aren’t in sight from the house and merge them with Silver Springs State Park, which borders the property on three sides. Preservationists could agree to maintain this acreage.
“Here I am, Philip, am I indoors or am I out?” gibed Frank Lloyd Wright–whose own buildings tended to shut themselves up from the outside world–when confronted by Philip Johnson’s glass house. “Do I take my hat off or keep it on?” Wright had begun to sour on Mies and his kind of modernism. But in this instance Mies was the one who got it right.
