June 2025.
Fallingwater is perhaps the most recognizable work of domestic architecture within the United States and possibly the world. When a layperson thinks of an architect, they think of Frank Lloyd Wright, and when they think of a work of architecture, they most likely think of Fallingwater. Its innovative relationship to its site and nature itself was almost unheard of at the time of its construction, and to this day it remains a highly visited tourist attraction.
I’m really excited to write my first post about a truly iconic work of architecture. My previous coverage of Louis Sullivan’s architecture includes buildings that are known to architects and historians, but this will be the first (of many more to come) article about a work just about anyone has heard of. Fallingwater is located on a remote site near the town of Mill Run, Pennsylvania. It is surrounded by forest and the Bear Run stream.
History
The history of Fallingwater’s site goes back to the 1890s, when a group of Freemasons built a country club there. It was acquired by a different faction by 1909, converting it to the Syria Country Club, which went bankrupt in 1913. By that time, the grounds included a Baltimore & Ohio Railroad station, a cottage on the site of the current guest house, and various other now-demolished structures.
1912 photo of the Kaufmanns’ cabin. (Columbia University)
Edgar Kaufmann created a summer retreat for his department store’s employees by 1916 in the area; and he and his wife built a cabin nearby known as “The Hangover,” which lacked electricity and plumbing. The Kaufmann’s employees eventually stopped using the retreat, and Edgar bought the site in 1933.
Frank Lloyd Wright was hired as Fallingwater’s architect in 1934. He was selected because Kaufmann’s son Edgar Jr. worked at Taliesin with Wright after a trip to Europe. Wright was very interested in the site’s isolation and geography, asking for detailed plans of the landscape and such minute details as the species of nearby trees. The Kaufmanns stipulated a large combined living and dining space, three or more bedrooms, a dressing room, and a wing for servants and guests.
By September 1935, Wright had completed preliminary sketches of the design to show Edgar Sr. when he visited Taliesin. The house would be positioned on the banks of Bear Run, angled such that every room would be lit by the sun, and have wide cantilevers and terraces. The placement was a surprise to Edgar Sr., as he expected the house to overlook the waterfall, but Wright wanted the Kaufmanns to “live with the waterfall, not look at it.” They approved of his plans in October and design work continued. Detailed drawings were completed as early as January 1936, but the process continued for another year, and by early 1937, the draftsmen were on their eighth set of drawings. The updated design included a third floor and rearranged the plan.
Construction progress on Fallingwater. (Columbia University)
Construction had begun slightly earlier, as Wright had hired Pennsylvania contractor Walter J. Hall as the project’s general contractor. Much of the construction work was done by local unskilled labor. The house’s foundation began work in April 1936, though the quarry for its masonry had been reopened a year prior, and construction was already behind schedule. Fallingwater’s construction was fraught with conflicts between Wright, Edgar Sr., and the contractors, as Wright’s characteristic anal-retentiveness meant he prioritized the house’s aesthetics over structural concerns. In addition, Hall was rather carefree with his work, meaning Wright’s apprentice Robert Mosher had to supervise much of the construction. The excavation of the basement was completed by July 1936.
By August 1936, the formwork for the first floor’s terrace was in place and the masonry was completed up to the second floor. The second floor cantilever was poured in October. However, the contractors failed to account for settling and deflection, and the concrete cracked at two different points. That December, five more cracks were discovered across the house, and various corrections were made in the design.
Plunge pool area (I think) under construction. (Columbia University)
In early 1937, the interior finishes were beginning to be installed. Wright included a plunge pool at the bottom of the stairs to the river and left the boulder in the living room floor intact. The Kaufmanns moved into the house in November 1937, but it was not fully completed until 1938.
The guest house was also designed by Wright in 1938, though Edgar Sr. asked it to be redesigned because he didn’t like the interior and connection to the main house, and Edgar Jr. modified the finishes after Wright presented the new plans. The guest house was completed by September 1938. The final costs of the project were $155,000 (about $2.7 million today), four times the original budget, and $22,000 more was spent on modifications by 1941.
The Kaufmanns used Fallingwater as a weekend retreat for the first few decades of its lifetime. It was not modified much at first beyond the addition of artwork on the walls, but issues with the house’s construction soon became evident. Many leaks occurred, garnering it the nickname “Rising Mildew” (though these were mistakes by the builders and not in Wright’s design), and cracks appeared across the unstable cantilevers. Windows broke and doors no longer opened as easily. Wright expanded the house’s kitchen in 1946, and he also drew unbuilt plans for enlarging the dining room and foyer.
View of Fallingwater and the guest house. (NRHP listing)
With the construction of the Kaufmann Desert House by Richard Neutra, the family spent less time at Fallingwater, and Edgar Sr. and his wife’s marriage was deteriorating. The family planned to donate the house in the long run. Edgar Sr. died in 1955 and his wife did three years prior, leaving it to Edgar Jr.’s supervision. He rebuilt part of the roof in 1954, but the sagging terraces caused damage to the window frames and staircase, which were likewise repaired by 1956. Edgar Jr. announced he would donate the house and 1500 acres surrounding it to the Western Pennsylvania Conservancy. He left funds as well, though he stipulated that the WPC try to restore the house’s original interior with his family’s possessions.
The first major restoration of Fallingwater occurred in 1976, which counteracted damage from mildew and the freeze-thaw cycle. By the time of the house’s 50th anniversary, 182 pieces of furniture, the woodwork, and terraces were restored, and waterproofing was added. In the late 1980s, more damage from acid rain and water was repaired, and the glass hatch to Bear Run was fixed after not being opened for decades.
Major issues with the cantilevers were identified by an engineering student in the 1990s, and computer models corroborated this risk of collapse. Visitors could apparently feel the floor bouncing underneath them. Temporary girders and footings were installed in 1997 and two terraces were closed. The solution was post-tensioning the concrete slabs with steel cables, which successfully prevented further damage, though they still noticeably sagged. Other renovation work at the time included painting and improving the nearby site features.
Recent changes to the house after 2000 include new glass windows donated by PPG and the recent replacement of waterproofing, which was ongoing when I visited and resulted in the scaffolding present.
Photos
Unfortunately, my photos for this one are not up to my usual standards. This is for several reasons:
I was in a tour group, which always makes life difficult for photographers trying to get in-depth pictures
Being that it is probably the most visited architectural landmark, people were everywhere
The weather was terrible
Photos are not allowed beyond the first floor of the house
I’ll try to make up for it with lots of prose, though. Let’s start at the bridge over Bear Run stream, where my tour of the house itself began:
The emphasis on a kind of “natural architecture” is very evident in this work. Fallingwater appears to rise out of the stone cliffs nearby, and its low stature and horizontality very much respect the scale of the surrounding wilderness. Although the stone masonry was quarried locally, it relates to the riverbed and cliffs. The stuccoed concrete and window mullions aren’t quite as natural colors, but they still have gentle earth tones.
Looking northwest from the bridge at Bear Run:
A view of the first floor’s cantilevered balcony:
These enable views of nature, provide a sense of weightlessness, and emphasize the house’s horizontal nature. Note the stairs to the river’s plunge pool.
Wright cared about the site so much that he accommodated for the smallest things, such as curving this trellis beam over the driveway around a tree:
I skipped the exterior here, but there’s a driveway between the west wall and cliff, which has this trellis over it.
At this point, we headed inside. Here’s my best photo of the living room area:
I know my white balance is off here. This will be a theme on many, many more interior photos I’ve taken that will be posted in future articles (which feature photos dating from June-August 2025).
The floor is stone, and it is waxed to represent the river below (the odd, unfinished boulder at right was kept at Edgar Jr.’s insistence). Note the indirect lighting fixture above. The fireplace has a special kettle that can be swung into the hearth. I believe most of this furniture is the Kaufmanns’.
This is the north side of the living room:
Again, note how the horizontality is reinforced through the windows and skylights. A hatch below leads to the river:
Unlike the rest of the house, the kitchen is isolated in its own little cave:
Stairs up to the second floor--note they are bare stone too:
Again, I could not photograph the second floor, as the tour guides prohibit it. However, it follows Wright’s typical procession of compression and release, where a tight hallway opens to a taller and wider room. Much of the splendid windows and cantilevers were best viewed from there.
We’ll continue outside the main house, at the guest house. This canopy above the stairs is unique--I think it was either cast in one piece, requires only one side of support to stand, or both.
The interior is pretty similar to the main house, lots of earth tones and eclectic Kaufmann decor:
It even has a pool:
The garage, which was the stopping point of our tour:
Here’s a look at some of the renovation work ongoing on the main house:
Finally, what you’ve all been waiting for…the shot EVERYONE takes:
Except I got it with crappy weather and a bunch of ugly renovation work. ;) The thing that shocked me about this photo is you have to hike south of the house to a spot not actually on the tour. Regardless, Fallingwater’s relationship to its site is just sublime. No other architect has had such an eye for natural design as Frank Lloyd Wright did.
I know the photos on this one were pretty sparse. Stay tuned for a post on the Farnsworth House, an equally iconic work of domestic architecture, as I have 100+ photos sitting on my hard drive.
Sources:
https://s3.amazonaws.com/NARAprodstorage/lz/electronic-records/rg-079/NPS_PA/74001781_NHL.pdf
https://s3.amazonaws.com/NARAprodstorage/lz/electronic-records/rg-079/NPS_PA/74001781.pdf
https://whc.unesco.org/en/list/1496/documents/
https://sah-archipedia.org/buildings/PA-01-FA28
https://www.loc.gov/item/pa1690/
https://projects.mcah.columbia.edu/fallingwater-2018/history/index.html
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