G Home: Finding Mister Wright

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Finding Mister Wright

Greenville sisters, Charlcy and Gabrielle Austin, had finally arrived at their destination. The last leg of their journey had been over the rolling hills in southern Wisconsin on Route 23. On that winding road they saw a fascinating blend of gigantic rocks, Guernsey cattle, and spindly trees. The changing hills and fields were eye-catching, but the sisters had tunnel vision for this house and this house alone: Taliesin, the summer home of Frank Lloyd Wright.

The famed architect had invited the sisters for a business appointment.

Wright’s house in Spring Green, Wisconsin, was built in 1911; the year was 1951. This home, built on the brow of a hill, grabbed their immediate attention. It had burned twice, but like the mythical Phoenix, it appeared new. With stucco walls and overhanging roofs, the one-story kept its silent vigil over the Wisconsin River and the green valley below.

The sisters’ Studebaker had completed the road trip from Greenville to here in fine form. Their five-passenger car gave them plenty of room to spread out, and it was economical to run, which was in keeping with the prudent nature of all their decisions. They were always judicious with their hard-earned money, as their jobs as librarians did not pay high salaries. But as they approached Wright’s home, the spinsters could hardly contain themselves. The invitation to meet the influential architect was mind-boggling, though it had been long-pursued.

Charlcy and Gabrielle had been visiting relatives in Michigan when the conversation one day turned to Wright and his cutting-edge work. The sisters shared their dreams of owning a Wright-designed house, and their host excitedly told the sisters about a friend in town who owned such a home. One phone call speedily led to another. They got hold of Wright’s phone number; the sisters boldly placed a call to his office, and he answered. By the time they hung up, Wright had invited Charlcy and Gabrielle to come talk to him in Wisconsin, even inviting them to spend the night at Taliesin.

And now, they had arrived. Gabrielle slowly edged the car up the driveway and parked. The sisters smoothed their dresses, stepped out of the car, and sashayed toward the house. Wright was sitting in the garden. With confident strides and beaming smiles, Gabrielle and Charlcy Austin approached their host.

Wright always made a point of questioning his clients about their lifestyles. He wanted to ensure a good fit between his design and the clients who would call it home. The sisters spoke of the tranquility that encompassed their days in Greenville; he learned that their daily lives were quiet and peaceful. And so it was decided: a conservative shelter would be built for two conservative sisters. They assured him they would like whatever he designed.
Since the home was only for the two of them, three bedrooms and two bathrooms would be ideal. One bedroom was for overnight family or guests. Only a small kitchen and dining area would be necessary. A large fireplace would be central to the living space. Wright decided that the plans of his Usonian-style structure would be perfect. And then he made one demand: “I do not design houses on lots. What I have to have is acreage.”

When Charlcy and Gabrielle left Taliesin, an agreement had been reached. Frank Lloyd Wright promised to design a home in Greenville for them, but it would be three years before it saw completion. They would wait.

A few obstacles had to be overcome before Broad Margin, the new home of the Austin sisters, was completed on 9 West Avondale Drive. The first hurdle was finding the acreage Wright required. Gabrielle and Charlcy bought three acres from Francis Hipp in downtown Greenville. The land, just off North Main Street, was close to where the sisters currently lived and kept them in a familiar neighborhood that suited their daily lives.

Two creeks bordered the lots, and plentiful trees dotted the slope. A topographical sketch was mailed to Wright, because before he even began his architectural drawing of the house and its furnishings, he had to know the lay of the land. The position and size of each dogwood, tulip, pine, and oak tree was carefully noted. Details in nature and in the new home were then married together in his drawings.

Their next obstacle was locating a builder. In Greenville, few were familiar with Wright’s name or his style; they were hesitant to take on the project. The sisters had the blueprints, but no builder, bringing their dream to a standstill.

Young and ambitious, Greenville builder Harold Newton got word of the sisters’ dilemma and approached them himself. In 1946, he had visited the prestigious Imperial Hotel in Tokyo, designed by Wright. After checking out his credentials, Charlcy and Gabrielle called Newton back. As the builder himself put it, “We hit it off instantly.”

“I was like Moses leading them out of the wilderness,” he says today.

The next step was a visit to the city engineer, Luke Allison, for a building permit. But building codes immediately became an issue. Both the engineer and Newton agreed that the plans didn’t conform to any codes they knew of, much less Southern regulations. But Allison finally concluded that the city of Greenville deserved a house by Frank Lloyd Wright. “You and I will just build this thing,” he told Newton. “I have studied it, and I think it’s good or better than the national building code.”

Next came assembling building materials, which took as long as construction itself. A special concrete mix with pea gravel was required. The ceilings, walls, and furniture were to be crafted from cypress, Tidewater cypress, which had to be cut and hauled in from the lower part of the state. This alone took three months. No nails were to be used, and brass screws and piano hinges for the cabinets and doors had to be ordered. One hundred twenty-eight screws alone were needed for each door. Even acquiring the fieldstone for the foundation, walls, and fireplace from the Austin family farm (near Mauldin) would take time. Suppliers were skeptical at the start, but became more and more enthusiastic as progress on the house became evident.

Newton assembled his crew, and construction finally began on Avondale Drive, months after they first began amassing all the necessary building materials. At Newton’s request, Wright sent one of his architects to help. Nils Schwiezer stayed for about a week the first time, supervising construction of the back corner of the master bedroom and then left. He would visit at least three more times at Newton’s request; each time he took pictures of the progress and sent them to Wright.

As Newton tells it, passersby slowed their cars to peer over the hill at the rising foundation. Several stopped and asked if a house had burned down. They would sometimes ask, “What in the world is that?” “We wouldn’t answer,” Newton recalls. “It was a lot of fun!”

The fireplace proved the biggest challenge for his crew. It was built right after the foundation was poured. Wright believed the fireplace was the “heart of a home,” so it made sense that Broad Margin’s fireplace was centered in the living space, the eight-foot-long kitchen behind it.

The sisters visited the site daily. They enjoyed watching their home take shape. Tall and slender Gabrielle and petite Charlcy liked their compact kitchen. They could stand in one place and reach all the counters. It was efficient and practical; sunlight poured in from a skylight that opened the enclosed space up to the sky.

Neighbors continued to be curious about the new house, and they pestered the sisters about getting a look inside to no avail. One day a crew from Better Homes and Gardens showed up. They wanted a tour and the chance to take pictures. Charlcy said, “This is our private home, and we don’t like people wanting to take pictures and do a feature on it.” And that was that. No story ever appeared.

The pace of building began to pick up. Before long, three panel walls and a roof were in place. There were no ceiling joists, and unlike the normal progression, partitions were added after the walls and roof were built. The outside walls support the roof while the inside partitions support nothing. Newton could not change any of the design work, but his suggestion, as well as others, for adding steel reinforcement to the roof was accepted.
Wright liked the design of a wide, floating roof, and the overhang of Broad Margin varies from two feet to eight feet. The result? The home seems to float out of the land. Even after fifty-seven years, the roofline is still straight. Newton said, “That is a powerful wall that holds the house up.”

As they were building, people looked in the door, and said, “How does it stand up?” Newton would laughingly reply, “I don’t know. But if you’re afraid to go in there, don’t go.”

Step-by-step, the house began to take shape. The details in the design were easy to follow. There is no insulation in the three-panel walls. Radiant heat from the use of hot water in floor pipes was installed. There were no plans for air conditioning; the windows serve as passive solar windows and still do today. Opening the windows on both sides of the house initiated the circular rotation of air. Windows facing the south side of the house bring warmth from the sun in, and the wide overhang makes them even more cost-effective. Wright’s use of natural resources and his energy-efficient designs made his architectural choices green long before green was “in.”

Progress steadily continued. Carmine Red pigment brought aesthetic warmth to the finished concrete floor. Wright’s customized furniture and cabinets were carefully crafted by Greenville carpenters. Johnson’s wax protected the floor, the walls, cabinets, and all the furniture, sealing and shining the wood as it was buffed. One carpenter was put on the job of creating the windows down the only hall; the design was intricate, and it was for only one craftsman.

Finally, in 1953 Broad Margin was completed. Wright personally congratulated Newton on the house, and Charlcy and Gabrielle couldn’t wait to move in. Charlcy and Gabrielle invited Newton, his crew, and their families to visit the house after it was completed. Broad Margin had become part of a hillside in Greenville, as well the Austin home.

Nils Schwiezer recommended that Wright make it one of his signature homes. Before long, Wright’s red, square, signature tile arrived to be put in place to the right of the door. The Austin sisters were thrilled.

Wright continued to think about Broad Margin well after construction was complete. One day, the sisters received a package from him. Inside was a vase, and a note that said, “I believe this will look good near the fireplace.” The sisters agreed and placed the vase there. A week later, they received a bill for what they thought was a gift.

Not until 1978, after the home changed hands for the third time (it has had a total of five owners), did Broad Margin find a place on the National Register of Historic Places, however. Then-owner Roy Palmer proudly affixed the prestigious plaque on the left side of the door. He would eventually list the home for sale, which is how it came under its current ownership. A classified advertisement in The Island Packet (a daily, morning newspaper published in Beaufort County) and the words “Frank Lloyd Wright home,” caught Rick Bristol’s eyes. He had been looking for a vacation spot for his son Patrick and himself, and both the size and the square footage met his requirements. Bristol “bought it sight unseen” at an auction.

Broad Margin turned out to be an ideal retreat for father and son. Bristol liked the seclusion; the house cannot be seen from the road, and the three-acre landscape is natural and wild. Recalling the first time he set eyes on Broad Margin from the driveway, Bristol says, “It looked like a small sailboat to me.” With the tall chimney rising high from the flat roof, an observer can surely acknowledge the resemblance.

There was refurbishing to be accomplished at Broad Margin. Bristol hired Amy Rogers Zimmer, a Greenville interior designer, to plan the interior space, and Kenny Wittuhn to complete the refurbishing. A new roof was needed, and the terrace was extended. A kitchen fire had damaged the cabinets, counters, and appliances, and they were replaced. More Tidewater cypress was ordered for the cabinets and walls. No one had waxed the house for several years, and it was cleaned and restored with Johnson’s wax once again. The original splendor of the house slowly returned.

Today, the Broad Margin logo is carved into the gate that opens into the driveway. That same design is cut into the wood of the hall windows and incorporated into the kitchen cabinets. Wright was a man of details, and his signature is in every room.

Although it would be easy to assume that the structure is a museum, it is maintained as a private residence. Even so, this past fall, Bristol gifted Greenville residents and architects from across the nation with a rare tour of Broad Margin.

Newton, now 89, gave a guided tour to one group of architects himself. Before they even asked questions, he knew what they would be interested in and pointed out the special features. From the outside of the house to the inside, the men and women saw him touch what his hands had carefully built fifty-five years before. That same weekend, Amy Zimmer, the Broad Margin custodian, led more than 2,000 visitors on tours as part of a fundraiser for the Greenville Symphony.

As excited and smiling guests entered the door off the carport, they were welcomed into the house by the light streaming through the windows in the hall. In only a few steps, their eyes turned to the left, and the huge fireplace that reaches beyond the ceiling came into view. Its size commands attention, as the flames in its sunken grill warm the room. “If a person is a Wright follower that enters the home, they just take a deep breath and are overcome with Broad Margin’s warmth, charm, and impressive details,” says Zimmer.

Her sense of “the Wright style” touches each room. Two period pieces are immediately recognizable: a Jugenstil lamp of amber crystals and a warm, umber-toned Eames chair that tempts guests to sit and relax in front of the fire. A mica floor lamp, of the Mission Style, shares its light with another chair, and Turkish rugs center the room. Licensed Wright patterns cover the ottomans. Above the dining room table, ready for use, are two, green Fiesta pitchers. A Japanese obi is a table runner. The textures, the colors, and the light all blend with Wright’s ageless designs.

Tour groups slowly walked through the living area and looked out the wall of windows that bring light into the other side of the house. Heads turned right to left, trying not to miss any details. They wanted to remember.

The dining area consists of only a long table and chairs. The original table and chairs were sold, but local craftsman Michael McDunn created a new table in the likeness of the original. Taking only a few steps more to the right brought visitors into the small kitchen. Eyes traveled up the eighteen-foot ceiling that opens the room to a skylight. Zimmer muses that Wright was enamored with lily pads, and gazing up to the stars through the skylight is like being underwater.

Out in the narrow hall that spans the length of the house, Amy directs visitors’ attention to the three bedrooms. The first bedroom is now a study for Bristol. On the desk are copies of the hand-designed blueprints for Broad Margin by Wright. To the left is one bedroom and straight ahead is the other. There is a small bathroom to the right and another off the study. A powder room is close to the kitchen. The same built-in furniture that Wright designed and Newton built for the Austin sisters inhabit the other two bedrooms.

There is separation between the private and public spaces of the home. And there is simplicity in the use of space; there is no clutter.

Wright once said, “Architecture should belong where you saw it standing.” Broad Margin belongs on 9 West Avondale Drive. Looking out from the street, the roof blends with the trees. Gazing from the streams, the house is nestled into the hillside. Current owner Rick Bristol offers, “It is like a breath of fresh air.”

Fifty-seven years later, Broad Margin remains a strong house, designed and built by strong men, and it graces Greenville thanks to two determined women.