herr2ck: Modernism and Nature

July 2025.

Mies van der Rohe’s Farnsworth House is probably the most recognizable and notable work of Modern residential architecture, comparable to Fallingwater in influence. Aesthetically, the two could not be any more different, though they share a surprising amount of characteristics. I was never sold on this house throughout my history classes, but after visiting I learned to appreciate it a little more.

Plano is located about an hour from my hometown, so it was a no-brainer to visit one day over my summer break. Again, Fallingwater may be the most apt comparison. Both are house museums preserved as they appeared originally, have a rural site, and require a tour to get the gist of it. I had a much easier time taking photos than I did at Fallingwater due to the weather, site, and relative lack of people.

The Farnsworth House is located on a rural site south of downtown Plano, Illinois. It is along the Fox River, which is south of the house.

History

The Farnsworth House was commissioned by Chicagoan Dr. Edith Farnsworth, who was single (unusual for her age at the time) and sought a weekend retreat in the countryside. Dr. Farnsworth purchased a farm in rural Plano, Illinois in the mid-1940s for this purpose. She met Mies van der Rohe at a dinner party in 1945 and asked if a member of his firm could design her retreat. Mies expressed interest and Dr. Farnsworth selected him as the architect. The two worked very closely during the design process at first, leading to rumors that they were romantically involved. The NRHP listing writes of the contemporary understanding being that Dr. Farnsworth became attracted to Mies and daydreamed of the two living together in her country estate, but Mies apparently did not share these feelings. However, the Farnsworth House’s website states that Dr. Farnsworth’s journal (albeit written in retrospect) does not mention any relationship between the two, and Mies was romantically involved with other people at the time.

The Farnsworth House went through many design iterations. These included schemes at grade (ultimately scrapped due to the site being on a floodplain), interior glass partitions, mosquito screens, different stair layouts, a second entrance, and operable windows. None of these features were included in the final design. Features that Mies and Dr. Farnsworth compromised on included the kitchen and fireplace. Its International Style design was partially finished by 1947, when it was included in a MoMA exhibition, though construction was delayed by a couple years afterwards.

Dr. Farnsworth and the Farnsworth House under construction. (National Trust for Historic Preservation)

By the time construction began in 1949, issues had begun to arise with the project and even Mies and Dr. Farnsworth’s relationship. The most notable problem was costs, as they rose significantly due to several stipulations by both Mies and Farnsworth. The house’s remote site meant materials had to be delivered from Plano, and its placement above grade and Farnsworth’s request that wires and pipes be hidden increased costs as well. Mies chose expensive travertine for the masonry used in the project, and he rejected 46 slabs due to quality issues. Many elements were custom-fabricated by the companies commissioned or even by Mies himself. When construction began, the cost was $60,000, 10 times Farnsworth’s original budget. In addition, Mies and Dr. Farnsworth were spending less time together by 1948. Construction was progressing in 1950, though the roof leaked and Farnsworth complained about various details.

Dr. Farnsworth was billed almost $70,000 in August 1950, equivalent to about $720,000 today, and she asked the architects not to make any further changes. At that point, her and Mies hardly talked, as they fought about the costs incessantly. She moved into the house in December 1950, and some minor work that included a wardrobe and mosquito screens was completed by William Dunlap, a draftsman at Mies’s office. The Farnsworth House was completed in March 1951.

Immediately several flaws with Mies’s design became evident, possibly contributing to Farnsworth’s distaste of him. The roof leaked, the fireplace was poorly insulated, there were temperature issues due to the unshaded south facade, and the exterior needed constant maintenance. As visitors trespassed on the property and invaded Dr. Farnsworth’s privacy, she planted shrubs and installed blinds. She refused to accept the Modernist furniture Mies designed for the house, instead providing more eclectic pieces of her own. Though Farnsworth lived in the house for two decades following, she disliked the space and considered it Mies’s house instead of her own.

The exterior in 1972, including its since-removed mosquito screens. (Historic American Buildings Survey)

Mies and Dr. Farnsworth went through a legal battle between 1951 and 1952, the climax of their rocky relationship. Mies sued first to recover debt and the unpaid construction fee, while Farnsworth countered with a malpractice suit and the cost overrun from her original $40,000 budget. The suits were heard at the Kendall County Courthouse between May and July 1952, and a judge ruled in May 1953 that Farnsworth had been untruthful and must pay the legal costs and fees owed to Mies. She appealed in 1955 or 1956, and the two ultimately settled for about $2,000-$2,500. Mies’s biographer Franz Schulze wrote of the legal battle as a humiliation for Dr. Farnsworth.

After the lawsuits, Dr. Farnsworth continued to talk down on Mies to the media, leading to further attention being brought to the house by journalists who disliked its appearance. In 1954, the house flooded for the first time (recall its location in a floodplain of the Fox River), which destroyed some furniture, leading Dr. Farnsworth to purchase sturdier furniture and blinds. As she grew older, she spent more time at the house instead of in Chicago.

In 1967, Kendall County decided to replace the aging bridge near the house, which led to the seizure of two acres on Dr. Farnsworth’s property through eminent domain. Naturally, this frustrated Farnsworth, as the new bridge would be much closer to the house’s site, and she conducted an archeological survey (which found Native American artifacts) in an attempt to stop its construction. After the Illinois Department of Conservation did not respond to her requests to donate her property to them, she filed a lawsuit, only receiving $17,000 in restitution. Dr. Farnsworth then appealed and lost. The bridge was ultimately completed, which stands today, and traffic can be seen and heard from the house.

The Farnsworth House’s second owner was British nobleman Peter Palumbo. He learned about the house as a student soon after its construction, also developing a penchant for Mies van der Rohe’s work, and he saw an advertisement for the house in the Chicago Tribune in 1968. Upon visiting the house, it was in disrepair--the interior wood paneling was discolored, the exterior paint was peeling, and the roof’s plaster was deformed. Farnsworth made it very tough for Palumbo to purchase the house, as he wrote of her as a “difficult, ferocious woman.” Ultimately, Palumbo acquired the Farnsworth House in 1972, and Farnsworth moved to Italy. He wanted to commission Mies to renovate the house, but as he had died three years prior, Palumbo commissioned Mies’s grandson Dirk Lohan.

Palumbo spent $500,000 to renovate the Farnsworth House. Work included the removal of the mosquito screens and the original oil-burning boiler, along with the addition of air-conditioning and heat, new paint on the exterior, new Mies furniture such as Tugendhat chairs, and reworked drainage on the roof. The only noticeable modification was a stone beneath the fireplace’s flue. Landscape architect Lanning Roper redesigned the grounds, which included new pathways, trees, and flowers, and Palumbo also built a swimming pool, boathouse, and tennis courts out of the way of the main house.

Palumbo used the Farnsworth House as a summer retreat for the next three decades, only living there for brief periods, and it remained private with few tours being held. In July 1996, the house flooded again, as the Fox River rose 10 feet above its banks, resulting in broken windows and furniture. Palumbo spent another $250,000 on renovations designed by Dirk Lohan again after this, though before work began the house flooded a third time, in February 1997. Lohan completely replaced the core (a difficult process due to the rare wood used) and covered it with a waterproof sealant. Palumbo offset the costs by opening the house to the public in May 1997, building a visitors’ center and hiring employees to maintain the house.

The Farnsworth House during a flood. (Architectural Digest)

In 2001, Peter Palumbo announced he would sell the Farnsworth House due to health problems, leading to worries that the work would be closed to the public once again or demolished. An organization called Friends of the Farnsworth House was founded to petition the Illinois state government to purchase the house and maintain it as a museum. The state’s budget prevented its purchase in 2003, and Palumbo tried and failed to sell the house to himself, eventually listing it through Sotheby’s. Preservationist organizations Landmarks Illinois and the National Trust for Historic Preservation submitted a bid, which was countered by developer Aby Rosen, who wanted to move the house to Long Island. Art dealer Richard Gray helped Landmarks Illinois and the National Trust to acquire the house, paying $7.5 million altogether.

Upon acquiring the Farnsworth House, it was operated as a museum. Its visitors’ center was rebuilt, the grounds were re-landscaped, and the house was renovated. It reopened in 2004 with replicas of Mies-designed furniture. The interior flooded for a third time in September 2008, which did not damage the structure or furniture but harmed the finishes. After that damage was repaired, the National Trust for Historic Preservation began managing the house, as Landmarks Illinois was losing money. The continuing flood risk, due to increased development of Plano and the surrounding area, led to the proposal of relocating the house or installing hydraulic jacks underneath it. As of 2025, the house and its site continue to be operated as a museum.

Photos

The importance of the Farnsworth House in architectural history cannot be overstated. Along with its contemporary Glass House, designed by Philip Johnson and influenced by early sketches for the Farnsworth House, it is an example of the Modernist attitude towards domestic form and its relationship to nature. Due to its site, program, and budget, it uniquely becomes the ultimate example of functionalism and purity, the “house as a machine for living” as championed by Le Corbusier.

It is really difficult to describe a work such as this that has been commented on by so many different sources for the past 75 years, many of which are far more intelligent and better writers than I am, but I’ll do my best. I think an apt place to start is the Farnsworth House’s relationship to nature. Fallingwater is a salient comparison yet again--it is one with its site, designed in harmony with it through its form and materiality. The Farnsworth House represents the Modernist tendency of the house as monument, on its site and not part of it, intentionally contrasting with nature. It is a man-made object in an otherwise pastoral area. To Mies, nature became more profound when it was viewed from within the Farnsworth House.

At the south facade here, the shadow and color of the trees contrasts greatly with the orthogonal brightness of the Farnsworth House. Instead of a unity with nature, there is a duality, which is echoed in other portions of the design. I’ll elaborate on that later, but the terrace and the house as well as the interior and the veranda also are features with a doubled nature.

Straight on now, featuring the terrace and veranda as they relate to the main house:

A closer detail of the massive floor-to-ceiling windows--it’s incredible how dematerialized the house appears:

A bay is simply floor and ceiling framed by the columns supporting the house. The only detail in between are the window mullions. This is an extreme example of Modern purity.

The short west side, which is dominated by the open veranda:

The wide-open site really contributes to the Farnsworth House’s appearance as a sculptural object in the round. It is properly understood from both nearby and far away.

North elevation, featuring the kitchen and the central core’s slight projection from the roof plane:

The height of the house’s floor, 5 ¼ feet above grade, was intended to prevent flooding. Aside from the I-beams, the only connection with the ground below is the sewer pipe.

Let’s proceed closer to the main bulk of the house. This view looks over the southern terrace, intermediate between the house and the ground. Its surface is composed of travertine:

Another minimalist aspect of the design is its materiality, as only three materials are used on the exterior: steel, glass, and travertine.

The placement of the terrace is very exact architecturally, but it allows for interesting photos, too, like where the corners align:

I was very intentional about composition when taking these photos. I hope that helps your understanding of the architecture.

The terrace also establishes a duality and creates an intermediate space between the ground and house. It acts as a foil to the house’s size and placement.

More abstract photos before we dive back in:

Mies was EXTREMELY exacting in his design for the house. Every single detail was designed with intention. These seemingly mundane stairs are framed without risers such that they appear dematerialized from the front, just as the main house is:

In this view of the house and veranda, notice how the stairs seem to float:

Again, God is in those details--the seams between travertine tiles align perfectly on-center with the I-beams:

Even on the stairs, the steel supports align with the seams as well:

It can be difficult to tell, but the Farnsworth House’s design is very much classical. The role of I-beams purely as structural support, completely unclad and honest in their role as both structure and ornamentation, would be considered the ideal successor to a classical column. Their appearance as being magnetized to the roof and floor required a special welding process, and they were sandblasted to eliminate any marks.

As in a classical temple, the Farnsworth House is also governed by proportions, designed as a “total work of art” with every minute detail accounted for, and has a sort of monumental purity in its materiality and placement. Again, I never had a penchant for this sort of design at first, but now I understand the genius of it.

Let’s stop on the veranda briefly before heading inside:

The plaster roof’s perfectly flat white appearance is not an accident, either. I understand the necessity of the chairs and mats for visitors, but they definitely take away from this house’s minimalist nature. The thing about house museums like this, and even Modern architecture and its related movements, is that any sort of mundane household object appears out of place. There’s a reason Architectural Digest curates the heck out of their celebrity house tours.

Even the doors span floor-to-ceiling:

More Bauhaus…the corners are fully dematerialized and the only thing there is a mullion between the windows. This is about the least material you can get in a properly functioning building.

That transition really is barely there.

Looking back where we came--note the continuation and exact alignment of the travertine floor:

Might seem a little chilly, but the stones have radiant heating below for the wintertime.

The Farnsworth House’s furniture, as it exists today, is either Mies-designed or at least Modern in style. I’m not really an expert on furniture design at all, sadly, so I can’t really elaborate much more. I will say that though this house looks like a museum now, it has always had that tendency, and visitors in the past noticed an odd dichotomy between typical domestic objects and the house’s pure form.

No interior partitions exist whatsoever except the “core” and two bathrooms, an extreme interpretation of open plan interiors. Instead, spaces are defined entirely by what objects and furniture are placed there. Here is the “dining room”:

Even the outlets are set into the floor, where they can be obscured with covers, as that would interfere with the perfectly smooth floor plane:

Flood damage that remains unrestored:

Beyond that door lies the guest bathroom:

It also grants access into the “core,” the area where all the unsightly systems are relegated:

The doors have special hinges such that they close flush with the opening:

Looking into the main living area:

The only thing rising the full height of the space is the “core” portion:

Again, that roof plane is perfectly flat and uninterrupted.

The fireplace:

What little storage the house has is built into areas like this, of course completely lacking handles or any visible hardware. Note the raised slab where the logs sit today--this was a modification after Peter Palumbo acquired the house, and beforehand the fire simply burned directly on the ground.

Dr. Farnsworth’s bathroom, probably the most conventional mid-century aspect about the house:

Note that the shower curtain is the same as the ones along the windows, and the restrained palette of only two materials.

Moody.

The east end of the house was Dr. Farnsworth’s “bedroom.” This small double bed is the only one in the entire house:

Additionally, this area has the only operable windows across the whole house:

Dr. Farnsworth’s wardrobe, designed by William Dunlap (Mies had envisioned one that was only five feet tall for the six-foot Dr. Farnsworth):

The side facing the living room has an integrated record player:

Again, this house’s design has you so close to nature, separated only by a pane of glass:

The kitchen, on the north side of the house:

The entire countertop was a specially-cast single piece of stainless steel.

The site of the Farnsworth House includes a few other buildings, though they were specifically designed to avoid interference with the main house. Here is the boathouse: