Writing in 1941, architectural historian Henry-Russell Hitchcock referred to Wright’s Oak Park studio as an “international center of pilgrimage” and to Taliesin, in Spring Green, as “even more a center of architectural pilgrimage than Oak Park.” Those of us who are prone to the literal might imagine lovers of architecture proceeding en masse, perhaps on their knees, toward the Midwest of the United States.
This might not be the actual case, but the description is at least somewhat fitting. In her biography of Wright, Meryle Secrest mentions two individuals who made pilgrimages – and she does use this specific word – to sites of Wright designs. But what is an architectural pilgrimage? And how does one embark on such a journey?
In her book Wanderlust, a History of Walking, Rebecca Solnit writes that pilgrimage is one of the fundamental structures of journeying, “the quest in search of something.” I think of pilgrimages first as spiritual. That the word contains “pilgrim” leads me to believe that if pressed, most people would associate with religion in some way, if not directly with spirituality. This doesn’t relate to architecture of course, not explicitly so. It doesn’t even immediately relate to art itself, though one can think of countless examples of pilgrimages related to art.
The problem with the word itself is not what it does not describe as much as what it does. The implication of a pilgrimage is a seeking of the divine. Our image of people walking on their knees, continuing on a journey for days on end, does not come to us by chance. Even hearing the word conjures up images of the Camino de Santiago or mandatory religious duty to complete the Hajj. I think of these pilgrims as in-search-of divinity, of consecrated ground.
What is the implication of applying the concept of pilgrimage to architecture, to Wright designs? J and I have made a commitment to visit every publicly-accessible Frank Lloyd Wright design still standing in the world. Are we to think of this commitment as a pilgrimage, like those described by Hitchcock and Secrest? Each time we head out to a new location, are we on a quest in search of something? Are we seeking the divine?
I’m not necessarily in search of anything sacred, and I don’t think J is either, but I believe there is something holy to be found in the ground of Wright designs. Call it an American spirituality or even an American identity preceding and immediately following the second World War, perhaps something I have personally lost though never quite personally held. This isn’t the same as a worship of the man, of Wright himself. There’s nothing in Wright himself that I find worthy of worship, though his ethos is a particularly great example of the supremacy America places on individual male genius. For this reason, too, perhaps I am seeking something, if only to keep relearning how false this notion is.
Solnit writes that “Pilgrimage is premised on the idea that the sacred is not entirely immaterial, but that there is a geography of spiritual power.” If this is true, perhaps that is what we are seeking. If a consecrated geography is to be found, if the sacred can be material, let’s hope we can find it.
