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Makers of Modern Architecture: From Frank Lloyd Wright to Frank Gehry (New York Review Books
Everyone knows what modern architecture looks like, but few understand how this revolutionary new form of building emerged little more than a century ago or what its aesthetic, social, even spiritual aspirations were. Through illuminating studies of the leading men and women who forever changed our built environment, veteran architecture critic Martin Filler offers fresh insights into this unprecedented cultural transformation. From Louis Sullivan, father of the skyscraper, to Frank Gehry, magician of post-millennial museum, Filler emphasizes how their force of personality has had a decisive effect on everything from how we inhabit our homes to how we shape our cities.
Why was the sudden shift in architectural fashion that wrecked the career of the Scottish designer Charles Rennie Mackintosh not enough to destroy the indomitable spirit of Frank Lloyd Wright, who rose from adversity to become America’s greatest architect? Why was Philip Johnson, “dean of American architecture” during the 1980s, so haunted by the superior talent of this less-fortunate contemporary Louis Kahn that he could barely utter his name even at the peak of his own success? How did Ludwig Mies van der Rohe’s dictum “Less is more” give way to Robert Venturi’s “Less is a bore”?
Surveying such current urban design sagas as the reconstruction of Ground Zero and the reunification of Berlin, Filler also trains his sharp eye on some of the biggest names in architecture today, puncturing more than one overinflated reputation while identifying the true masters who are now building for the ages.
Why was the sudden shift in architectural fashion that wrecked the career of the Scottish designer Charles Rennie Mackintosh not enough to destroy the indomitable spirit of Frank Lloyd Wright, who rose from adversity to become America’s greatest architect? Why was Philip Johnson, “dean of American architecture” during the 1980s, so haunted by the superior talent of this less-fortunate contemporary Louis Kahn that he could barely utter his name even at the peak of his own success? How did Ludwig Mies van der Rohe’s dictum “Less is more” give way to Robert Venturi’s “Less is a bore”?
Surveying such current urban design sagas as the reconstruction of Ground Zero and the reunification of Berlin, Filler also trains his sharp eye on some of the biggest names in architecture today, puncturing more than one overinflated reputation while identifying the true masters who are now building for the ages.
323 pages, Hardcover
First published July 17, 2007
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Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews
October 7, 2021
This volume contains essays on Louis Sullivan, Frank Lloyd Wright, Charles Rennie Mackintosh, Ludwig Mies Van der Rohe, Le Corbusier, Alvar Aalto, Charles and Ray Eames, Louis Khan, Phillip Johnson, Robert Venturi and Denise Scott Brown, Frank Gehry, Richard Meier, Rodolfo Machado and Jorge Silveti, Norman Foster, Renzo Piano, Daniel Liebeskind/ David Childs, and Santiago Calatrava.
As often, Filler's mixture of architectural criticism and intimate, personal memoirism strikes just the right tone. We learn, for example, not just about Mies van der Rohe's remarkable craftmanship, but also his (and more troubling, Phillip Johnson's) closeness to the Nazi's. We learn about how the architecturally inept Johnson, whose most famous works were riffs- The Seagram building was mostly done by Mies van der Rohe, and The Glass House was largely derived off Mies van der Rohe's Farnsworth house, nevertheless, through careful marshalling of his personal wealth, social connections and talents as a critic, became one of the most important people in architecture in the mid to late 20th century.
From the two couples profiled, we learn about the sexism that abounds in the field - starting from Ray Eames, whose incredible furniture designs were almost always attributed to her womanizing husband, Charles (though Ray herself did have a lot to do with diminishing her accomplishments), to Denise Scott Brown, one of the finest architects of any generation, denied a Pritzker - and the attendant cultural recognition - awarded to her husband and collaborator, Venturi. We learn about the slide into postmodernism, how Venturi and Scott Brown (despite their best efforts) came to be seen as postmodernism's founding members -and thus how Kahn came to be associated with the movement, since Venturi and Scott Brown had studied under him at Penn.
Filler writes about how Gehry, more than anyone else, came to embody postmodernism, and, with that, become the most revered architect of the new millenium. He delves into Norman Foster's reconstruction of the Bundestag, and speaks about the starchitects, most typified by Childs and Liebeskind, who've made most of their mark pursuing big commissions in New York City. Rodolfo Marchado and Jorge Silvetti, renowned for their artistry and the conceptual clarity of their designs, are examined on their ties to the Argentine dictatorship of the Videla years. The politics of museum building are explored in Richard Meier's construction of the Getty Museum in Los Angeles (an abject failure) and Gehry's two most prominent later works, the Guggenheim in Bilbao, and the Disney Museum in Los Angeles - both marked successes. Filler writes about Gehry's heirs, most typified by the wasteful Calatrava (and to a large extent, also, Zaha Hadid), who've gone on to use computer visualizing technology to conjure startling (though often unbuildable and/ or extremely costly) buildings.
As often, Filler's mixture of architectural criticism and intimate, personal memoirism strikes just the right tone. We learn, for example, not just about Mies van der Rohe's remarkable craftmanship, but also his (and more troubling, Phillip Johnson's) closeness to the Nazi's. We learn about how the architecturally inept Johnson, whose most famous works were riffs- The Seagram building was mostly done by Mies van der Rohe, and The Glass House was largely derived off Mies van der Rohe's Farnsworth house, nevertheless, through careful marshalling of his personal wealth, social connections and talents as a critic, became one of the most important people in architecture in the mid to late 20th century.
From the two couples profiled, we learn about the sexism that abounds in the field - starting from Ray Eames, whose incredible furniture designs were almost always attributed to her womanizing husband, Charles (though Ray herself did have a lot to do with diminishing her accomplishments), to Denise Scott Brown, one of the finest architects of any generation, denied a Pritzker - and the attendant cultural recognition - awarded to her husband and collaborator, Venturi. We learn about the slide into postmodernism, how Venturi and Scott Brown (despite their best efforts) came to be seen as postmodernism's founding members -and thus how Kahn came to be associated with the movement, since Venturi and Scott Brown had studied under him at Penn.
Filler writes about how Gehry, more than anyone else, came to embody postmodernism, and, with that, become the most revered architect of the new millenium. He delves into Norman Foster's reconstruction of the Bundestag, and speaks about the starchitects, most typified by Childs and Liebeskind, who've made most of their mark pursuing big commissions in New York City. Rodolfo Marchado and Jorge Silvetti, renowned for their artistry and the conceptual clarity of their designs, are examined on their ties to the Argentine dictatorship of the Videla years. The politics of museum building are explored in Richard Meier's construction of the Getty Museum in Los Angeles (an abject failure) and Gehry's two most prominent later works, the Guggenheim in Bilbao, and the Disney Museum in Los Angeles - both marked successes. Filler writes about Gehry's heirs, most typified by the wasteful Calatrava (and to a large extent, also, Zaha Hadid), who've gone on to use computer visualizing technology to conjure startling (though often unbuildable and/ or extremely costly) buildings.
September 7, 2014
This is a positively wonderful piece of writing.
There are too many lusciously irreverent sentences in this book to cite, and no fewer than four or five fantastic sentences in each of its chapters. Perhaps this is the book's best:
The interiors of the Kimbell, washed with a pearlescent natural light that gives its arching vaults an ethereal presence, is as close as we are likely to come in modern times to an architecture of the infinite.
That's from Martin Filler's treatment of Louis Kahn. This is from his treatment of Daniel Libeskind (though it is about a fellow architecture critic):
(Paul) Goldberger's writing - during his decades as the architecture critic of The New York Times and later at The New Yorker - always lacked a discernible moral center, and although in his Ground Zero book he displayed less of the maddening equivocation that had become his most defining characteristic, the targets he picked here were, true to his fashion, quite easy ones and unlikely to bar him from the corridors of power. Up from Zero, though dutifully detailed with useful facts that Goldberger gained through his easy access to high-ranking sources who never doubted his essential complicity, was less revealing than Nobel's book was, and somehow made the most dramatic architectural story of modern times seem dull.
And this about Spaniard Santiago Calatrava:
The seemingly advanced (though in fact retrograde) aspects of his architecture disguised its underlying sentimentality, and made it palatable to patrons of a certain sophistication who would have rejected more pronounced expressions of kitsch in other mediums. That he found a constituency in the art world was perplexing, but his appeal to a popular audience made perfect sense at the turn of the twenty-first century.
Filler is fondest of Kahn and Wright and Gehry and occasionally awed by Piano. It doesn't matter, frankly, as one should read Filler for his prose as much as his criticism.
There are too many lusciously irreverent sentences in this book to cite, and no fewer than four or five fantastic sentences in each of its chapters. Perhaps this is the book's best:
The interiors of the Kimbell, washed with a pearlescent natural light that gives its arching vaults an ethereal presence, is as close as we are likely to come in modern times to an architecture of the infinite.
That's from Martin Filler's treatment of Louis Kahn. This is from his treatment of Daniel Libeskind (though it is about a fellow architecture critic):
(Paul) Goldberger's writing - during his decades as the architecture critic of The New York Times and later at The New Yorker - always lacked a discernible moral center, and although in his Ground Zero book he displayed less of the maddening equivocation that had become his most defining characteristic, the targets he picked here were, true to his fashion, quite easy ones and unlikely to bar him from the corridors of power. Up from Zero, though dutifully detailed with useful facts that Goldberger gained through his easy access to high-ranking sources who never doubted his essential complicity, was less revealing than Nobel's book was, and somehow made the most dramatic architectural story of modern times seem dull.
And this about Spaniard Santiago Calatrava:
The seemingly advanced (though in fact retrograde) aspects of his architecture disguised its underlying sentimentality, and made it palatable to patrons of a certain sophistication who would have rejected more pronounced expressions of kitsch in other mediums. That he found a constituency in the art world was perplexing, but his appeal to a popular audience made perfect sense at the turn of the twenty-first century.
Filler is fondest of Kahn and Wright and Gehry and occasionally awed by Piano. It doesn't matter, frankly, as one should read Filler for his prose as much as his criticism.
October 31, 2011
I picked this up just to read the chapters about Frank Lloyd Wright and Charles and Ray Eames. At the same time, I flipped through Twentieth Century Houses. It was interesting to read about both architects by different authors from different perspectives.
December 21, 2007
A collection of analytical essays about individual twentieth century architects. Elegantly written, relevant, informative. A pleasure.
January 24, 2020
I'm very much reviewing this based on my enjoyment; I can easily imagine someone picking this up and throwing it away within half an hour. It's a collection of essays, some of which kind of sort of touch on architecture, with others mostly biographical, and a few about the ridiculous nature of the architectural industry. But I loved it, because Filler is fierce in his criticism, and it's so damn refreshing to read someone who can write wonderful sentences and call out trash when he sees trash--not because the person who made it was a bad person (though many of them were), but because the thing itself is trash. Plus, I learned a bit about modern architects, if not modern architecture; it's far too allusive to teach you anything about the buildings or the theories. You do learn about Filler's preoccupations, though, and that's nice: basically, architects should aim to produce public buildings that serve a civic function, rather than a profit motive. Hear hear.
May 21, 2019
Like the previous volume I read, I thoroughly enjoyed the shortish pieces on each of the architects, and especially the firm opinions on the relationships between architects and their clients as well as the politics of the commissions. As with the other volume, a few more pictures of the buildings referred too in the text wouldn't come amiss, as I usually read the pieces without immediate access to the web.
December 13, 2018
A brilliantly concise & illuminating introduction to some of the giants of modern architecture. The author has a wealth of knowledge and is able to convey his insights without patronizing the reader.
May 11, 2014
I originally started college as an architecture major - but never took a single architecture class since they were all full. I decided to go back and read-up on architecture, just to familiarize myself with a subject that once inspired me from a distance. I found this book at my library, and the title made it sounds like a good candidate for a self-administered survey course.
First off, I was disappointed by the lack of pictures. Perhaps I should've leafed through the pages before jumping in to reading it, and also the small size probably should have clued me in to that fact before I started, but I didn't think about it until I was a ways into the book.
It was more like a biography of selected architects, and with the oldest of the "Modern" architects Louis Sullivan, I got the distinct feeling that he was one of the favorites of the author. The tone of the book was that of a critic, and one can't help but wonder: if these are the architects that the author cares enough about to write about, what does he think of the others that he did not select?
It seemed to be story after story of disappointment and artistic catastrophe. Still, I guess it was interesting to see what a shallow world architecture can encompass.
First off, I was disappointed by the lack of pictures. Perhaps I should've leafed through the pages before jumping in to reading it, and also the small size probably should have clued me in to that fact before I started, but I didn't think about it until I was a ways into the book.
It was more like a biography of selected architects, and with the oldest of the "Modern" architects Louis Sullivan, I got the distinct feeling that he was one of the favorites of the author. The tone of the book was that of a critic, and one can't help but wonder: if these are the architects that the author cares enough about to write about, what does he think of the others that he did not select?
It seemed to be story after story of disappointment and artistic catastrophe. Still, I guess it was interesting to see what a shallow world architecture can encompass.
April 29, 2015
Martin Filler has been writing pieces on architecture for The New York Review of Books for twenty-five years, and this book (as well as second) is a collection of those pieces. I've been an architectural enthusiast for about fifteen years so I'm familiar with the architects and the buildings/projects under discussion. But in every case Filler opened my mind to new viewpoints and new details, political and social dimensions of the art of the built environment. He was particularly hard on Philip Johnson, an architect I used admire. And there's a fairly blistering take-down of David Childs, the architect behind the ugly Freedom tower and its kitschy 1776' height. It's fun to read an angry, but well-reasoned, attack. Filler, though, is often eloquent about the builders he does admire, especially Louis Khan. If one is interested in architecture, especially modern architecture, but is daunted by the breadth of the field and the learning curve involved, Filler is a great place to start in giving shape to the field.
September 29, 2015
An outstanding collection of essays on many of the great architects of the 20th century. Although I've read quite a few books about Frank Lloyd Wright, Mies van der Rohe and Le Corbusier, I learned some new things about them through author and architecture critic Filler. Witty, well written and scholarly at the same time.
November 26, 2008
A good overview of the subject.
December 22, 2009
Interesting chapters on personalities and quirks of modern architects, quite interesting.
August 3, 2011
A MUST for all architecture students and enthusiasts!
January 23, 2018
read at - about 1/2 - only the ones i was interested in.
Read
November 18, 2018Solid NY prose, and a lot of fascinating history and personality drama. Great if you don't want to deal with bulky illustrations.
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