You may or may not have heard about Taliesin West. In March of 2022, my parents and I made a trek out West to Arizona. There were many parts of this trip that had a lasting impact on me and how I see the world, but chief among them is Taliesin West, one of architect Frank Lloyd Wright’s masterpieces. Perched outside Scottsdale, Arizona, Taliesin West was once the home of Wright’s architecture school. Wright is arguably the most famous American architect of all time because of his innovative work and unique style, spanning prairie-style (which he helped create), mid-century modern, and craftsman-style architecture. My trip to Taliesin West was not just a trip to see a building, for it is far more than just a building. Taliesin West is an experience, a multi-sensory set of feelings and sensations that overwhelms you and makes you forget that there is any world outside the walls of the building.
The first part of Taliesin West that the tour stopped in was Wright’s studio. How do you describe something in its entirety when it is utterly perfect? Here, I try, though it is impossible to understand the magnitude of this experience without going there yourself. The initial step into the room is more compressed than the rest of the room. It seems to grow as you walk into it, fitting around you like a well-tailored coat. Cool stone walls perforated with windows surround a stunning drafting desk where some of the most beautiful art (because architecture is certainly art) ever conceived by a human being was made. Light linen allows sunlight to peek through the windows without forcing the inhabitant to succumb to a hot Arizona day. Every aspect of the room is purposeful, even the window placement. Wright worked in the mornings, so he positioned the windows to make light hit the room just as he wanted it to. Native materials add to the purposefulness of the space; they blanket his studio, from the rocks of the walls to the wood of the desk.
Our tour group moved on and later looked from a walkway at the “money shot” of Taliesin West. All buildings have a “money shot:” the best-looking (and sometimes the most shocking) view. The vista at which we paused was truly breathtaking. From this vantage point, one can see the entirety of the low-slung building, so low it looks like it has begun to melt into the landscape. I certainly felt a bit like I was melting in the 90+ degree heat, but I also felt at peace in my surroundings. The heat settled around me like a blanket, and the delicate chirps of birds, timidly interrupting the monotonous silence, served as a beautiful backdrop to the building. Though I will always be the first person to say that I cannot stand hot weather, I felt a profound tranquility and understanding of my surroundings. I was one with the desert. As much as I was a single person standing in the desert, so too the desert was a single part of me. Western environs have a truly special place in my heart, cemented after this experience. From my peaceful, trance-like state, the guide pointed out the sloped character of Taliesin West’s walls: “Why would Wright choose that? What else has that sloped shape?” It only took a moment. “Mountains,” I responded. Indeed, situated behind the building are mountains, which mirror the building itself.
In another area of the building, our tour group stood shaded between two sides of Taliesin West’s walls. It was a needed respite from the heat, an oasis. The oasis-like quality of the space was only magnified by a fountain, babbling happily, nearby. We were only there for a few minutes (there is not much to look at near walls, even the walls of a Wright building), but the feeling I had there has stayed with me ever since. In this space, I felt the stone around me and how it could greatly transform a space. It cooled our group while staying constant and strong, again calling me back to my view of the mountains. The monolithic sides of Taliesin West seemed to have grown from the ground, defying nature in their perfection and permanence. I understood at that moment that they were silent observers to the world around them, comforting in their stability. They looked as natural as any hulking mass of land I could see.
After exploring the rest of the building’s exterior and some of its interior, our tour concluded. The guide wrapped up by talking more generally about Wright’s work, bringing up his use of a building’s site. Throughout this description of my time at Taliesin West, I have teased at a key feature of Wright’s architectural philosophy: the careful consideration and integration of surrounding environs to a building. Wright considered where each window should be placed to maximize its sun-catching (or refracting) abilities in his studio and emphasized the stone around the secluded fountain area to make it that much more contrasted, yet still consistent, with its environment. He used the vista of the mountains to shape the very walls of the building. Wright thoughtfully curated each building material, using what was native to the area to design every aspect of his structures. This quality and attention to detail is what sets Wright apart from his contemporaries. His buildings have stood the test of time because their surroundings have, too. I cannot ever explain how deeply impactful my visit to Taliesin West was. It encompassed every fiber of my being, every sense, and stayed a part of me to this day.
