Index
2
BOOK ONE: From Cetinje to Chicago
BOOK TWO: The New World BOOK THREE: 1932 and Beyond
The Life of Olgivanna Lloyd Wright
WHEN PAST IS FUTURE: Memories and Images
3
Preface
The Life of Olgivanna Lloyd Wright
10
Olgivanna Lloyd Wright was born Olga Ivanovna Lazovich in the small principality of Montenegro, which borders on the Adriatic Sea on the coastline of Eastern Europe. The exact year of her birth is unknown; records were lost during her flight from Russia at the outbreak of the Revolution. Her birthday was on December 27, and most likely in the year 1896. She was born in Cetinje, the capital city of Montenegro.1 Her early life was one of privilege. Her maternal grandfather was Marko Milijanov (1833-1901) the fearless general credited with preserving Montenegro’s independence from the Turks in 1878. In the absence of any sons, Marko Milijanov took his daughter Melitza, Olgivanna’s mother, into the Montenegrin army, training her in military tactics and social rebellion, where she too eventually rose to the rank of general. Olgivanna’s father, Iovan Lazovich, was Montenegro’s first Chief Justice. Melitza and Iovan had five children of which Olgivanna was the youngest. Olgivanna wrote of her childhood with fondness and of her two brothers, Vladimir and Lubomir, and her two sisters, Julia and Mileva, each of whom lived very different lives from her. Olgivanna’s greatest influence, the person who helped shape her worldview more than anyone else during those formative years, was her father. Before Olgivanna was born, he had lost his eyesight but since he retained a remarkable memory of jurisprudence he continued to occupy his position as Chief Justice. Olgivanna’s older sister, Julia, married Constantin Siberakov. His family owned gold mines in the Ural Mountains. In the winter they lived in Moscow with further residences in St. Petersburg. In summer they moved to their villa on the Black Sea at Batum, Georgia. Montenegro, after the First World War, was absorbed into Yugoslavia. Iovan, Melitza, and Olgivanna then moved from Cetinje, no longer the illustrious capital of a mountainous nation, to Belgrade. King Nicholas2 eventually pensioned his highly revered Chief Justice. Melitza travelled extensively in her fierce campaign against the rising tide of communism. When Olgivanna reached the age of nine, Julia decided to take her out of Belgrade and bring her to Russia, so that she could benefit from the exposure to Russian culture and the advantages of a finer education. In St. Petersburg and Batum, Olgivanna attended private schools. Julia also provided her with a French tutor. Eventually she enrolled in a School of Drama in Moscow. In the summers, Constantin and Julia invited a steady stream of famous Russian artists and musicians to their villa on the Black Sea. Olgivanna enjoyed the opportunity of associating with a variety of cultivated and creative guests she met during her summers with her sister and brother-in-law. Shortly before the outbreak of the Russian Revolution she met and married the Russian architect Vladimir Hinzenberg, and her daughter, Svetlana, was born. Soon the Revolution was brewing, but Georgia, on the southern extreme of Russia, was not immediately threatened. In Tiflis, near the Turkish border, Olgivanna and her husband, who she called Volodya, established their life. As news reached Georgia that revolutionary forces had taken the Kremlin, it appeared to everyone that Russia would follow England’s example, and establish a Constitutional Monarchy, with a democratic government under Kerensky. The Czar would continue to live in his accustomed way but exercising no power of rule. However, that was not to be. As Olgivanna wrote, “The execution of the Czar and his family on the night of July 17, 1918 shocked many people. Daily newspaper stories of cruel, violent actions on a large scale were horrifying. Blood flowed like autumn rains.” The atmosphere was permeated with uncertainty and confusion about the fate of life from day to day. Dark clouds of fear 1 Olgivanna’s birth year is difficult to discern. She was apparently uncertain of it herself. Social security records established in the U.S. record her birth year as 1896 while her obituary in the New York Times lists it as 1898. 2 King Nicholas I Petrovic-Njegos, 1841-1921; r. 1910-1918.
prevailed. Olgivanna was sensitive to these precarious times and they intensified her own desperate need for answers to questions that haunted her. Her marriage was not a particularly happy one, something seemed missing. She was broken by a tragic love affair with a man from her childhood years. What was the raision d’etre of her life? It was at this turbulent time that she met the philosopher and mystic G. I. Gurdjieff. When she saw first him, she was instantly drawn to his compassion and depth of human understanding. A strong sensation of certainty, of illumination, of absolute conviction gripped her. She had no doubt that this was meant to be. Without a moment’s hesitation, then and there she decided to join his group of followers. And there began a most remarkable, fruitful, and sacred relationship between teacher and pupil. There was no doubt that Olgivanna would prove to be the closest and most understanding of his many pupils. His methods of teaching were often strong, sometimes they appeared cruel, but his aim was to awaken people out of sleep and let them see the truth about themselves. Socrates’s dictum “Know Thyself ” was not easy to achieve, it demanded hard work to rip out false attitudes. In Olgivanna, however, Gurdjieff found the ideal disciple, flexible, eager to learn, never doubting, never hesitating, never resisting, open, and willing to absorb. From the very beginning she threw herself into the tasks and life of the group. Unfortunately, Volodya had no interest in philosophy, and had no desire whatsoever to become a pupil of Gurdjieff. This must have been a heavy cross for Olgivanna to bear. When the Russian Revolution spread south to Georgia, Gurdjieff realized it was imperative to leave Tiflis, and with his group, including Olgivanna and her daughter, they migrated to Constantinople. Prior to the move, Olgivanna and Volodya had separated. In Constantinople, Gurdjieff established his school, “The Institute for the Harmonious Development of Man.” Yet Istanbul was only temporary. His search for a more permanent location took him to different European cities. Finally, it was in Fontainebleau-Avon, France, that he found and purchased “Le Prieure,” a sizeable estate with ample accommodations for his “Institute.” Olgivanna lived and underwent severe training under Gurdjieff until 1924 when he told her that she had learned all that he could teach her, and now she must go out and live her life accordingly. Her first impulse was to return to Russia, but he explained that Russia was no longer the nation of her youth. Instead he suggested she should go to America. Her husband had migrated to Chicago several years earlier and Gurdjieff advised her to try and salvage their marriage, mainly for the sake of their child. Shortly after her arrival in Chicago in 1924, she met Frank Lloyd Wright. It was the proverbial “love at first sight.” While he was in the process of getting a divorce from his second wife, she also sued for a divorce from Volodya. Rather than waiting for their divorces, they determined to make a life together. Strife, turmoil, and persecution plagued them for their first four years, living together but unable to get married. It was during this time that a child was born to them. This was a time when conduct of that nature was scorned and his unconventional personal life cost Frank the loss of clients who turned to other architects. Without work, without income, unable to meet the expenses of their home, Taliesin, they were evicted. Hounded by lawyers and the press, they sought refuge in various places across the country. As a result of Gurdjieff ’s rigorous training, Olgivanna acquired the force to endure those harrowing years. Even in the most desperate circumstances, above it all, it was her love for Frank that gave her the strength to overcome any obstacle that might confront them. They were married in 1928, and the following year new work came to the architect, only to be dashed by the Stock Market Crash. It is a testament to their courage, however, that in 1932, despite the Great Depression, they created a school for architects—The Taliesin Fellowship. The curriculum included certain elements that Olgivanna brought from her training with Gurdjieff, added to
11
BOOK ONE From Cetinje to Chicago
15
From Cetinje to Chicago
The Life of Olgivanna Lloyd Wright
14
Cetinje Batum St.Petersberg Batum Tiflis Vladimir Hinzenberg Kharkow Marriage Moscow Batum Tiflis George Ivanovich Gurdjieff Constantinople Whirling Dervishes Berlin Svetlana Paris Le Prieure at Fontainebleau-Avon The Laundry Katherine Mansfield Death July 22nd Christmas Enneagram Paris America Le Prieure at Fontainebleau-Avon CafĂŠ de la Paix Chicago
There were lots of young men around and I would tell them ‘Throw in your shirts; there are hundreds of sheets, there might as well be hundreds of shirts …’
55
The Life of Olgivanna Lloyd Wright
54
had closed their doors to her under various pretexts, and hotels had refused her. In the last stage of tuberculosis, she was soon to leave the world, probably in a few months, but Georgivanitch accepted her just the same. I told him what a lovely face she had, and how much I liked her. “You take care of her,” he said. “Help her all you can but be careful of too close proximity—her illness is contagious.” I knocked on the door of her room. She was sitting by the fireplace, her face very white; she had dark hair cut short, bangs over her forehead, a fine nose and mouth, a delicate chin. But the eyes! Just as intense as when I first saw her looking into the dining room, avid for life, for impressions—and that is what called to me. “My name is Olgivanna,” I said. “And I am Katherine, please. That is all, just Katherine. Won’t you sit down?” She motioned with a pale, slender hand which opened halfway, the fingers held together, a very shy and restrained gesture. I was deeply touched by her loveliness, more so because I knew of the inevitable end she was soon to reach. “First I will bring you some wood to make you warm.” When I left her room I leaned against the wall for a few seconds. For the first time in my life I saw one who was near death, one with such living eyes, so beautiful, so young. Why did she have to die? I understood her need. I came back with the wood and sat down, and we both looked at the fire in pleasant repose. I said, “What do you do in life?” “I am a writer.” “Do you write dramas?” “No.” It sounded as though she was sorry she did not. “Do you write tragedies, novels, romances?” I persisted, because she looked as if she should write these. “No,” she said with still deeper distress, “only short stories, just short stories.” Later on she told me she had felt so wretched at that moment she would have given anything if she could have answered at least one “yes” to the “big” things. “I would like to read your stories,” I said.
From Cetinje to Chicago
Standing on a ladder, with the brush in my hand, meticulously painting a beautiful oriental pattern, I felt again placed in my line of continuity extending before birth and beyond death.
The Life of Olgivanna Lloyd Wright
76
philosophic strand in his nature, so the gap between us widened. And now that I had met and instantly fused my being with a man with whom I had spent only a few hours, the realization of the hopelessness of my marriage to Volodya became a truth. Within me it was ended. I talked to him about it and he agreed that our life together had been, for a long time, coming to an end. Realizing this, some last weight of burden was lifted from my heart, and my expectation and faith that Frank was coming back was unshakable. One afternoon the doorbell rang. There he stood before me, full of zest and energy, with that sweep of his shoulders and the noble head that I could never erase from my mind neither now or in all the years since his death. He burst in, greeting me warmly but formally, and took a quick look around the apartment. “So this is where you live,” he said. “It is a nice old house; you gave it a good atmosphere.” I had a carving I had brought from Paris, which he liked, a vase of flowers, and a bowl of fruit—grapes, apples, pears, oranges. He sat down and began to eat the fruit while talking about Taliesin and his wish that I would come to visit him as soon as possible. “Can you come this weekend?” he asked. “Svetlana has just recovered from the measles,” I said. “It would be better to postpone my visit until next week. Also my brother Vlado is coming to Chicago. I wish you could meet him. Could he come with me to Taliesin?” “Of course,” he said, “by all means bring anyone else you wish. I have lots of room.” “Then I would like to bring Mrs. Glassenberg who has been very kind to me.” He had meanwhile eaten all the fruit. I laughed, “I see you like fruit; I wish there were more to offer you.” “Thank you, I’ve had enough. I do love fruit. I was brought up on a farm, you know.” Before leaving he said, “Well, I hope you will allow me to call you again.” I said, “Certainly, I would love to hear from you. I have been thinking about you.” He left as breezily as he came. His lively presence remained in the apartment long after he departed. The next day the doorbell rang. A messenger, bringing several baskets of fruit, candy, and flowers, handed me this note: “Sorry I ate all your fruit. I hope you forgive me. Here is some to
Taliesin I When I first saw Taliesin I had a sensation that I had been there before. Not only the form but the whole atmosphere of it was familiar to me, the smell of the pines, the autumn colors, and the smoke in the huge fireplaces. Frank wore navy blue ski trousers, a short suede jacket lined with karakul lamb, a hat, and a long trailing wool scarf. “The King of the North,” I thought, “noble and handsome.” There was no limit to my love. He put us in the guest rooms.30 There was no touch of a woman anywhere at Taliesin. I felt at home, and I said to Vlado, “Is this reminiscent in any way of Cetinje to you? Why have I remembered this somehow?” “Well,” he said, “it is probably the fireplaces and the general atmosphere of something genuine here which you experienced in Montenegro.” Frank was anxious to do things for me. On that very first visit our attraction was so powerful that we stayed together in the beautiful living room all night. I returned to my room in the morning feeling exhilaration with no guilt. I had had practically no relationship with Volodya. It appeared that Frank and I were molded in the same way physically, intellectually, and emotionally. Early in the morning he went out to gather some flowers and knocked on my door. “Here are some flowers for you.” He handed them to me through the briefly opened door and walked off, saying, “Your breakfast will be ready shortly.” I knew that we would always stay together. After breakfast prepared by his housekeeper, we talked of our future. He told me that he had first to divorce his wife and that she would make trouble for us both, although he no longer lived with her as man and wife. “And I have to divorce my husband,” I said. “It will be very hard for him but this must be. Your life and mine are bound forever.” That was my first visit to Taliesin. We parted briefly, but we had found each other. I received a letter from him. He needed me every moment of his life, he wrote, and asked me to take immediate steps toward the divorce. Chicago I went back to Chicago with Vlado, returning to the apartment I shared with Volodya. It was a sad 30
Olgivanna’s brother, Vlado Lazovich, went with her on the first visit to Taliesin.
77
From Cetinje to Chicago
compensate for my self-indulgence. I am going back to Taliesin to prepare for your visit next week. I will telephone you as soon as I get there.” I floated through space filled with his presence. The bare branches of late autumn stood still in the street in front of my windows. I told Volodya of the visit and Frank’s invitation for me to come to Taliesin. He took it calmly with no regret that he was not invited; at least, so I felt. Shortly afterwards, Frank and I were in Chicago and as we were walking in the street he asked, “Are you courageous, Olgivanna?” “I don’t know,” I said. “Well, I want to ask you to come to Taliesin with me now. The divorce will be final soon.” “Oh yes,” I answered. “I will come because I want to do life with you.” “I promise you one thing,” he said gaily. “From now on you won’t be seen for the dust.” There were many times when I did not exactly understand the words, but I always grasped the sense of them. With ebullient gaiety he took my arm and we walked quickly in the brisk air of twilight. We walked like that all our life together.
BOOK THREE 1932 and Beyond The Beth Sholom Synagogue Gene The Annunciation Greek Orthodox Church . . . . and I remember . . . . Washington Taliesin Garden Wall Golden Poppies
119
From Cetinje to Chicago
The Life of Olgivanna Lloyd Wright
118
Taliesin Taliesin Fellowship Racine Learning to Drive Russia Taliesin West Tuweep Life of Taliesin Fellowship New York Horses Svetlana Madison Battle of the Bulge October 29, 1949 Chicago Italy New York Taliesin West Tuesday Evenings The Struggle Within A Radio Interview Celebrities Vlado and Brandoch New York Elkins Park Spring and Return Christmas on the Desert Montenegro Puritanism Nature and Civilization June 8, 1958 Foreign Cars A Bird in the House Taliesin West Festival of Music and Dance Easter Scottsdale The Final Illness President Eisenhower Margaret Sanger Love of an Idea The Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum . . . . and I remember . . . .
197
vastness of the desert space and sky. We ate gaily and like children broke the eggs end to end. Happy and free we laughed, immersed in purity of spirit. Frank and I then walked arm in arm to our theater, followed by our friends and young people. We saw again The Day of Triumph; and this beautiful film once more turned back the pages of history for us. Arm in arm we walked back to our rooms to talk, to meditate, to rest, to be in each other’s presence. The day kept the sun, and the early evening sky was painted red. We walked together to the pavilion to listen to our friend Carol Robinson play Beethoven. Frank spoke of Beethoven calling him “an architect of music, great master, the greatest of them all.” We listened to the music for a long time. Four of his children were there—Lloyd and his wife, Helen; David and his wife, Gladys; Catherine and her husband, Kenneth Baxter; Iovanna of course; his granddaughter, Anne; his grandson, Eric—the last Easter with their father and grandfather. At the end of the evening, he and I arm in arm walked happily back to our rooms. It was our last Easter together. Scottsdale On Thursday, the third of April, I was invited by my friends Celia Peabody, Helen Benton (wife of Senator William Benton), and Vi McNeil to come to a cocktail party in my honor. “It will be just a few women, that is all. We will invite very few people. We thought you might enjoy it.” “Of course I will come.” When I was about ready to leave in the evening, I said, “Frank, I am going to the party of Helen, Celia and Vi at five o’clock.” I brought his dicumarol as usual. “Please take care. I will be back soon. They are giving a little party for me. Just the three of them, and I don’t know whom else they asked. I will return soon.” “All right,” he said, “go ahead.” When I arrived at the Mountain Shadows Country Club, I saw lots of cars. It is a place where many people stay. But when I entered the big room, it was filled with people. There were virtually hundreds of people there. I was shocked. Very graciously Helen, Celia and Vi, who stood in the
From Cetinje to Chicago
The Life of Olgivanna Lloyd Wright
196
stick less and make beating easier. Do not use butter on hands after the first twenty minutes. Do not worry that the dough looks thin. Do not stop after the first bubble; do not stop beating for one hour and ten minutes! Someone wipe the perspiration from the foreheads! Someone have pencil to write down any change in recipe. Someone record time. Do not scrape off the sides anymore when the large bubbles show. Keep containers warm. Divide the dough into four parts and put into warm containers. Put back on stove to rise. Cover with cotton flannel sheets and one wool blanket. Check to see that it does not get too hot or too cold. 11:30 a.m. Put the paper forms on the table; butter them inside very carefully so as to not leave spot unbuttered for it will tear the Baba. 1:15 p.m. Baba has tripled in size. Put one of the containers on the dining table. One person stands by counter, hands Mrs. Wright a form to fill one-third full, another stands by the stove to immediately put the filler form back in a warm place—on top of one-inch thick board on the stove. Cover with cotton flannel sheet and wool blanket again and let rise until three-quarters full. Approximate time of baking: one hour and fifteen minutes in oven. Clean dining tables get eighteen pillows to cover with dish towels. Get scissors and towels to hold and open Baba forms with. Do not look in ovens! You may interfere with the rising of the Babas. Only Mrs. Wright should do this. If the paper smokes, do not worry. It should. Take Babas out; carefully tip them onto a pillow, gently pulling off the form. If this does not work, rip or cut form off; carefully tear off wax paper, starting on the darker side, toward the light. If it pulls the Baba off, stop pulling! Gently roll Baba on pillow, turning occasionally until it is quite firm. Take to dining room; put on tables, still turning occasionally. Check that the children and dogs cannot get to Babas, and then—relax! This is quoted directly from the authentic documentary recipe compiled from previous years of accumulated experience. People were running in and out of my room. We held consultations pertaining to table arrangements, seating of guests and apprentices, timing of ensemble and chorus music, and the general plan for Saturday and Sunday. John Amarantides, the director of music, was working on programs, Eugene Masselink was again booking the film, The Day of Triumph, which we have shown every Easter morning. It is like reading the Bible. We see and hear the story of Jesus, who 2000 years ago proclaimed that love is the way to immortality. He died for His faith. We need His inspiration—we need every reminder, even the food to commemorate Him. Although Easter has been defined by some historians, as a continuation of the pagan Spring Festival, in no way does it exclude the idea that the resurrection of Christ simply coincided with it. Thus the egg for the pagan was a symbol of fertility; with the Resurrection it became the symbol of continuity, of eternity. In ancient times the egg was dyed only red, representing eternity sealed and proved by the blood of Christ. The bread was always considered the staff of life. The Russians made the bread festive, the ingredients rich, and as tall as their ovens would bake it. On the top of the Baba it is customary to stamp the cross, made of icing. And the white pascha—symbol of purity—is made out of cheese, eggs, cream, butter, and almonds. Its shape is pyramidal, each side being marked with the cross. Thus all food for Easter celebration from ancient times until now is blessed by memory and promise of life eternal. Easter day on March 29 was the happiest one of all the thirty-seven years of our life together. It was a beautiful morning, full of sunlight. We both dressed in white. I went early to Frank’s room to wish him a Happy Easter. We walked out to greet our young people and our guests. Balloons flew everywhere. Tables were spread with flowers, Babas rose from circles of multicolored eggs, and pascha cheese shimmered white in garlands of blossoms and leaves. We sat down at the long row of tables and listened to the singing of our choir—the voices rose, the music echoed in the
WHEN PAST IS FUTURE Memories and Images Beyond the autobiographical and, in some cases, beyond words on the page, Mrs. Wright was inspired to create music and visual art, and, like her husband, she inspired others to embrace the Idea94 and to explore it with passion.
94
Mr. and Mrs. Wright
See p. 183
233
From Cetinje to Chicago
The Life of Olgivanna Lloyd Wright
232
Their First letters Frank Lloyd Wright and Olgivanna Lazovich Hinzenberg, 1924-5 A Family Picnic Mr. and Mrs. Wright and Iovanna Iovanna and her Mother Olgivanna Lloyd Wright “The Mimosa Tree” “Seagulls” The Arabian Party, Taliesin, summer 1951 Mr. and Mrs. Wright Mr. and Mrs. Wright and Taliesin Fellowship Olgivanna Lloyd Wright “Russia 1937” Frank Lloyd Wright with Editor Yofan, of Pravda and Mrs. Yofan Olgivanna Lloyd Wright with Mrs.Arkin, in Sukhanovo Frank Lloyd Wright with Mrs. Arkin in Sukhanovo A Moscow Exhibition Selected Works of Frank Lloyd Wright Mr. Wright’s Birthday Picnic, June, 8, 1953 Mr. and Mrs. Wright Mr. and Mrs. Wright Mrs. Wright and Iovanna Iovanna Svetlana Wright Peters “When You Drive Across the Desert Lands” A Taliesin Exhibition Selected Works of Olgivanna Lloyd Wright Mrs. Wright and Fiera Rhapsody in Blue, September, 1949 Mrs. Wright at the Upper Dam, Taliesin Olgivanna Lloyd Wright “My Method of Composing Music” People Mrs. Wright and Kay Mrs. Wright and Dr. Joe (Joseph Rorke, MD) Mrs. Wright and Gene, Eve, and Casanova Mrs. Wright and Bruce Bruce Brooks Pfeiffer Yukio Futagawa meets Olgivanna Lloyd Wright Olgivanna Lloyd Wright The Japanese Portfolio of Frank Lloyd Wright Drawings The Introduction to the Portfolio The Last Picnic, April, 1959
From Cetinje to Chicago
The Life of Olgivanna Lloyd Wright
290 291