Arts & Culture

Edifice of Sound

Inspired by a Robert's recent post about what architecture sounds like. Ben explores how sound translates to space.

Not too long ago, Robert wrote an excellent inquiry into what architecture sounds like. It got me thinking about how sound translates to space, and reminded me of a poignant discussion held in a famous house while I was an apprentice at the Frank Lloyd Wright School of Architecture. But, it’s not the famous house you’re expecting, although I’ll talk about that one too. Allow me to digress.

When asked who his favorite architect was, Frank Lloyd Wright would wryly say, Beethoven.

But, Beethoven, you say, was a composer, not an architect!

Then Wright would raise one eyebrow and remind the questioner that Beethoven constructed what he called - an edifice of sound.

What he meant was that Beethoven composed music holistically – it was an integrated sum of its individual parts. Every piece had meaning, a purpose. These parts (sounds, rhythm, instruments, cadences, etc.) are intricately woven together. Much in the same way that Wright created architecture: every aspect of the design was part of a greater whole. His buildings are famous for seemingly growing out of the site. And, Wright was famous for designing everything about his projects – the structure, the landscaping, the interior design, the furniture, the way people interacted with the spaces, right down to the napkin rings. There is a clear relationship between each element.

When you hear a Beethoven symphony, you’ll notice the richness of the experience. It’s full and dynamic. There is a clear composition and order of every element, themes that repeat and evolve as the work moves forward, an identifiable foreground, middle ground, and background – all culminating in a singular, soaring musical steamrolling of the sub-conscious.

Taliesin – Spring Green, WI

Hillside Theater - Spring Green, WI

Taliesin West - Scottsdale, AZ

Fallingwater - Bear Run, PA

Perhaps you can see the correlation, and possibly how Wright drew inspiration from Beethoven.

The other famous house in question was Bruce Goff’s Ford House in Aurora, IL. It is one of the most absurdly fascinating dwellings, and was owned by one of our professors who brought us there to take in the sheer impossibility of it all. While both Wright and Goff share some common element of being considered “organic” architects, they have very different visions for the creation of the built environment. But, they both were ardent fans of classical composers and they both composed their own works on piano.

We had debated Beethoven’s influence on Wright several times sitting in the Living Room at Taliesin that summer. What became evident while taking in the split level great room of the Ford Residence was that the space felt very different, almost a little off, despite the fantastical elements. We weren’t able to pin point it until our professor played for us some music.

Listen here – Claude Debussy’s La Mer by the Philharmonia Orchestra. You’ll notice it’s rather different than the example I shared by Beethoven. Debussy came from a more modern, impressionistic period. He employed what some described as glittering passages and webs of sound that distract from occasional absence of tonality. There is much utilization of negative space, and very little middle ground in the mix. His work is basically all foreground and background. Just like Bruce Goff’s!

“Did you guys notice,” my professor explained, “how difficult it is to photograph the house?”

God yes it was. Compared to say, Taliesin or Fallingwater, where you can hardly take a bad photo. Goff’s work is more disjointed without that middle ground holding it together. Wright luxuriates in middle ground space.

Naturally, having Frank Lloyd Wright as a source of inspiration for my own work, I am a big fan of Beethoven as well. I find his music utterly inescapable, like it’s a part of me. We’re so lucky in Seattle that our symphony plays Beethoven’s 9^th for New Year’s annually. It’s become a tradition for me to see it, as it has become my personal favorite work of music, surpassing dare I say the Beatle’s catalogue as the culminating achievement of Western Civilization. I’m not exaggerating! On top of everything, Beethoven was completely deaf when he wrote it, which makes the experience of seeing it performed live even more mind-boggling. And it was the very first time in music history that a composer included a chorale as part of a symphony. Try not to be completely blown away during the Ode to Joy section of the last movement.

Go see it. There are tickets left all this coming weekend. The edifice of sound awaits!