Study nature, love nature, stay close to nature; it will never fail you.
Frank Lloyd Wright told his apprentices. The master heeded that principle at Taliesin, the house he built for himself in Spring Green, in rural Wisconsin. Begun in 1911 and rebuilt after fires in 1914 and 1925, it is as much a part of the hillside as the rock outcroppings and the mature trees that shade it. The name means “shining brow” in Welsh—the language of Wright’s mother’s forebears—and alludes to its placement below the crest of the hill. In contrast to Falling water, the masterpiece it inspired, Taliesin has no one, iconic image. Its drama is muted and demands a spirit of quiet contemplation. It emerges from dense foliage as a rambling, picturesque composition of limestone walls, sand-colored stucco balconies and shingled roofs, and it reveals itself slowly, a piece at a time. Even so, James E. Goulka, president and CEO of the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation, calls it “the most important work he did,” and Boston Globe architecture critic Robert Campbell considers it “the greatest single building in America.”