Друзья посетили дом Фрэнка Ллойда Райта в Вест-Лафайете и узнали о его уникальном дизайне

This week, my friend Charlette and I took a little road trip to West Lafayette, Ind. We were on a Frank Lloyd Wright quest. We had both been on a walking tour in Oak Park, but this was a chance to enter the home and see the interior. Charlette bought the tickets on the internet, and I drove. We had cheerful arguments about whether we could outrun the heavy rain that engulfed us at the Indiana border. I pointed to the brightness in the sky east of us and she pointed out that I was now going 40 miles per hour with the wipers about to fly off the windshield, and still we could hardly see the road. She urged me to pull off the highway and reconnoiter. I did and looked at the radar on my weather app, determined that we were on the eastern edge of the storm, and made a bet that the storm was not traveling 60 miles an hour. We would be out of it in no time. And sure enough, the rain petered out about 10 minutes later. We planned to get to West Lafayette nice and early to eat the lunch we had packed and walk around the Purdue campus before our tour. Another cheerful argument ensued about whether Purdue’s campus was superior to our own. She thought it was, I said no, but there were plenty of venerable old trees that kept us deliciously cool as long as we kept to their shade. We chased down a fountain that she caught a glimpse of from the car; it was on the engineering mall, and we stood in the spray and were refreshed. It is a huge, symmetrical, concrete structure, with patterns reminiscent of a computer motherboard. We discovered that the campus was rich in fountains, some without a collecting pool. We came to find out that Purdue has a tradition of “fountain runs,” and one little girl was gleefully soaking herself running through one fountain as through a sprinkler on the lawn while her mother watched from the side. Soon it was time for our tour of the John and Catherine Christian House, commonly known as Samara, and we headed toward the neighborhood adjacent to the campus. As we walked up the winding brick driveway, we marveled at how fresh the bricks looked, and Charlette said she wouldn’t want to shovel it in the winter. We waited under the carport. Wright didn’t like garages, basements or attics, according to our tour guide, because they are dark and collect junk. Two more families made their way up the driveway and the docents came out to greet us. The main colors were the red of the brick and painted cement and the green of the copper roofline and forested yard. We entered the house through the “front” door (Wright liked to “hide” his front doors so they weren’t obvious from the street) and were ushered into the spacious living room. Our guide told us that John Christian wanted visitors to the house to feel just like guests, so unlike many, if not most, Wright homes, we were invited to sit on the furniture and make ourselves at home. Charlette and I chose bench seats high in the corner, where we could view from above. Three carpeted steps led down to the sunken part of the living room. Our guide launched into a satisfying lecture, sprinkled with fun facts about the house’s origins and the only family who lived there. We really got to feel like we were guests of the Christians. Catherine Christian loved to entertain (she was the social director for the university), and the room was built to accommodate parties of 50. The wall of windows made the room feel like an extension to the outdoors. From our perch at the top of the living room, we could glimpse the dining room, and were soon ushered up three steps into a low-ceiling room, and the space felt suddenly intimate, even with the grand table and high-backed chairs with the samara-themed cutouts in the wood. A samara is a winged seed, as from a maple, and that was the theme of the house as well as its nickname. On to the tiny but efficient kitchen with an accordion-fold door to hide the dinner creation from the adjacent dining room. The original 1950s stove, sink and dishwasher are all within reaching distance with a few steps. We were invited to open cupboards, and a slender cabinet revealed a towel rack that was vented from the dryer in the next room to dry dishtowels and tea towels. An appliance garage held a toaster plugged into a hidden socket within. Walking through the whole house revealed a feeling of motion as different vibes emerged with each room. Some were expansive with high ceilings, and some intimate with low ceilings. The floor space was tiny, but there were so many built-in cupboards, desks and drawers that the only furniture needed was beds and chairs. To learn more or book a tour of your own, go to samara-house.org. Walk in beauty; work in peace; blessed be.