The (not so) Plain and Simple Correspondent: Minerva, Goddess of Wisdom

Minerva was the Roman goddess of wisdom, justice, law, victory, and the sponsor of arts, trade and strategy. Gracious! It boggles the mind that even a goddess could possibly incorporate so many sterling qualities. As it happens, there is a human being who comes close. She lives at Taliesin — “Shining Brow”, named for the famous Welsh bard — and is in her 99th year. Still sharp as a tack, she is the last of the apprentices who knew Frank Lloyd Wright personally, as he gathered around himself what was named the Fellowship, the brainchild of the last Mrs. Wright. It was composed mostly of very young people who subscribed to his philosophy of Natural Architecture. They paid to come learn how to practice it and be a part of the close-knit, sometimes competitive circle that basked in his aura, sat at his knee.

Minerva Jane Montooth (née Houston) has been in residence at Taliesin since 1957 and in the years I've known her I've seen her demonstrate consummate skill at weaving through the maze, using all the attributes of the Goddess whose namesake she is. She doesn't always win the battle when up against opposing forces (say, when the School of Architecture’s lease on the Spring Green campus was terminated, sending shockwaves around the world), but always emerges unbowed, using considerable wisdom to think of another strategy. In that regard she is a fitting successor to FLW himself, who rarely took no for an answer.

It is a challenge to sum up Minerva in one page or ten. You will get the short version here. Soon after we met, I discovered a curious tie between us. Minerva, her twin sister Sarah, and red-headed husbandto-be, Charles Montooth, were all from the small burg of Rushville, Ohio, which was the birthplace of one of my greatgrandmothers. Like my ancestor, Minerva and Sarah were born on a prosperous dairy farm, one that was wiped out by the Depression. An early memory of Minerva's is walking past the failed local bank with her mother as a small child and observing confusedly that “the bank doesn't look crashed to me.” She and her twin have been described as being terminally shy when young, but both shed that liability abruptly once ensconced at Taliesin. She has said, “If I could talk to Frank Lloyd Wright, I figured I could talk to anyone.” Minerva's radiant smile and frequent laughs bespeak someone confidently at home in the world,

On the cover

“Forty Acres Deep” (2022) Photo/Illustration, by RT Vrieze/Knorth Studios

From the artist:

Compared to the other 3 books that we've designed for Michael Perry ("Peaceful Persistence", "Hunker", and "Million Billion"), this was a much darker departure for Mike. But as always, a beautiful, honest, and captivating read. There were many opportunities to create a cover based on the detailed visuals Mike provides throughout the book, but there’s a pivotal point in the story that we thought would make for a bold cover that evokes curiosity and worry. Knorth Studios is made up of two people, RT Vrieze (Designer/Art Director) and Chris Bartlett (Photographer/Videographer). We've been in business for almost 9 years now and throughout those years Chris has created a giant library of nature photography from the surrounding Eau Claire area from every season. This is where we pulled the photo for the cover of "Forty Acres Deep". The point of view for the cover is what I thought the scene from the book would look like from the opposite side of the "Forty Acres".

Once choosing the photo, I then begin to Photoshop the black smoke in over the untouched glistening field of snow. I wanted the cover to convey a message of "you never know what someone might be going through" and/or a Midwest winter version of the "The grass is always greener" philosophy.

— RT Vrieze of Knorth Studios

Submit your artwork or photography for cover consideration: editor@valleysentinelnews.com able to enjoy an exchange with luminaries and just plain folks alike.

Charles Montooth, was four years older than Minerva – a “sort of Greek God” –who paid her no attention. Their parents and grandparents were friends but she only lit up on his radar screen later. Minerva went off to college at Northwestern, majoring in English (“the catch-all major”) and her twin to University of Chicago to study art, where Charles was also, trying to study architecture. To his frustration, the architecture curriculum consisted of reading the Great Books, nothing practical. During this time FLW came to U. of Chicago to speak and Minerva thinks Charles heard him. Certainly Charles walked past Wright-designed Robie House daily on the way to class and that sparked his interest enough to read Wright's book on Natural Architecture.

After college, Minerva went to New York City and got a job as a librarian for an advertising agency. Meanwhile, her twin began dating Charles in Chicago and they made their first forays to visit Taliesin. Then Minerva developed pneumonia and her twin suggested they go to Taliesin West for her to recuperate in the desert. That was a major turning point in her life. She was enthralled by the people and places she saw. The fickle finger of fate intervened when Sarah met Bill Logue, a student of economics at U. of Chicago, ditched Charles, who then focused on Minerva. They fell in love. “I was born under a lucky star,” she says.”What did I do to deserve this?” She is rueful about being second fiddle to her twin where Charles was concerned but there is no indication that he regretted how things turned out. When the Logues became members of the Fellowship they gamely assumed primary responsibility for the farm that produced the food eaten at Taliesin, and the twins were not parted again until Sarah died in 2014.

The apprentices and resident staff dwell in elegant surroundings of gardens, orchards, water features, vine-covered trellises and outdoor gathering spots, but have very small private living spaces. Frank Lloyd Wright apparently didn't believe in wasting valuable square footage on places where one spent time alone. His own private spaces were larger; he invariably served himself a bigger slice of the pie. He saw everyone as equals, but some were more equal than others, perhaps as George Orwell suggested. Minerva's apartment is next to what was Mr. Wright's beautiful art studio, which after his death was frequently used for art exhibits, and receptions. It sits silent now.

The apprentices had nothing but veneration for their leader. The ones I knew who have now passed on, as well as Minerva, never referred to or addressed FLW as anything but “Mr. Wright.” Some rural neighbors and community members in towns and cities nearby tend to have an earthier, more cynical memory of a man who was tardy about paying bills or never did.

What magnetic property did FLW have that drew so many loyal young people to him? There was the revolutionary architecture, of course. But pain and privation often accompanied their labor and primitive living conditions at early Taliesin in WI and Taliesin West in Scottsdale, AZ. “They worked as unpaid slaves”, even paid for the privilege of being exploited, one whose family considered the goings on at Taliesin to be a “cult” told me. But they were also learning valuable skills, encouraged to be enterprising and creative, and there was plenty of time set aside for fun and frolic. Minerva giggled about once painting the mast and an amateurish figurehead on a tiny galleon built for a theatrical event on the pond, which was roundly criticized until she confessed to being the artist. “Oh, very nice,” the critic backtracked. Extravagant masquerades, dances, theater events inside and out, travel to exotic lands to work on architectural projects, and picnics entertained them. The day before FLW died in Arizona he joined his band of believers on a desert picnic.

Minerva has been the “social coordinator” at Taliesin for years, although she doesn't think of herself as organized. She became the one who issued invitations to formal dinners, worked out the guest list and seating arrangements to be most rewarding to the parties involved, and made sure there was entertainment – usually music – afterwards. Charles didn't like taking photos, so she captured the parties on film, too. She arranged the annual student “box projects” presentations, open to the public in the design studio of the School of Architecture, and the annual FLW birthday bash. Frequently there were guest lectures, plays, and music in the Theater to be publicized.

In 1962 she was asked to be amanuensis to Olgivanna Wright, helping her with writing and many summers were spent traveling with Mrs. Wright in Europe and Africa and around the US. As a result of an invitation to speak in So. Africa, Minerva became partial to giraffes. This was during apartheid, which offended them both so much that Mrs. W. got out of Dutchcontrolled Cape Town as quickly as she could, traveling north to the Serengheti to see the wild animals. Minerva's biggest travel disappointment is that she didn't get to go to Japan with Mrs. Wright. Mrs.

W. was angry that the beautiful hotel FLW designed, one that had been engineered to withstand earthquakes and had performed perfectly when major tremors hit the island, was slated to be torn down and a taller one with more rooms was to be erected in order to make more money. Mrs. W. went to rally support for saving the structure. Unfortunately, she wasn't successful and the landmark was destroyed.

One of the great highlights of life was in 1952 when she and Charles were invited to get married at Taliesin West, and Mr. Wright sat next to her at the wedding dinner, held in what was called the “cabaret”. A Presbyterian minister was called in from Tempe to officiate. Her parents came down from Rushville and “were horrified because in those days everyone had their wedding at home or in a church,” certainly not in a cabaret. She and Charles wed, unfazed, honeymooned in Mexico and soon produced three handsome children, two daughters and a son.

Another highlight occurred recently when Taliesin was made a UNESCO World Heritage Site and Governor Tony Evers came to present the plaque outdoors in the courtyard. “I liked him immediately. He made sure my chair was firmly planted on the stone walkway and we chatted like old friends. He was so unassuming. I told him I was sorry he didn't have a better legislature to work with and he said, 'Don't worry about it. We'll come out all right.'”

Charles Montooth always donated the profits from his architectural jobs to Taliesin and Minerva's work was unpaid. Now she receives a small stipend from officials at Taliesin West and depends on help from her grown children and well wishers to get by. As one of her longtime helpers, Renee LaFleur, chimed in to say, “It's a shame, after all the years of devotion she has given to this place!” The outrage widely shared at the demise of the School as it previously existed is not something Minerva is legally allowed to discuss but the rest of us can.

I asked Minerva if she were sad to be the last. I should have known the answer because it took weeks for her schedule to accommodate our interview. She interacts constantly with younger people and is in great demand. “I am never lonely. I get calls and texts from former apprentices from all over the country.” Several had arrived that day, in fact. She mentioned that she is frequently asked when she will take a vacation. “Every day is a vacation, so I never felt the need for a vacation. I'm so blessed. What did I ever do to deserve this,” she repeated. I hear the wonder in her voice.

A fuller, ongoing story of Minerva's life and career, can be read in the blog of photojournalist Mark Hertzburg, called “The marvelous Minerva” at wrightinracine. wordpress.com.

Katie, who until recently lived in Plain, has been writing for fun and profit since childhood. Self-described as opinionated, she writes in the interests of a more loving, better-functioning world for all. She may be reached at katiewgreen@icloud.com.