The American Glass House

Our Transparent Nature

Glass House Was Built In America For A Reason

Much has already been written on Philip Johnson's Glass House. The pinnacle of modernism, most of what you read about Glass House is concerned with its themes of minimalism, geometry, transparency, and how it encourages reflection. These are all significant elements. As with a lot of architectural criticism (actually, all arts criticism), the essence of the structure is lost when design jargon is used to describe it. 

Glass House is obviously special for a number of reasons, but it occurred to me recently that something about it is supremely American. As Michael Pollan writes in A Place of My Own, the roots of modernism can be traced back to Thoreau and the "American romance of nature." We are a young country and much of our early architecture is defined by stuffy European notions of shelter, to be protected. We have never let go of those ideals and probably never will (its manifested in our territorial nature and demand for privacy). But as our culture has progressed, it's become obvious that we are a restless people. Since we are a culture defined by contradictions, our territorial, private nature has manifested in a desire to spread out. Further, the fact that we spread out and push against the landscape clashes with our romance with nature. 

Glass House is, ultimately, a reflection on the American notion of personal space in the modern world. There are few things more American than building a place to inhabit, one that is yours and yours alone. Glass House's minimalism (living room, kitchen, bedroom, bath) does not encourage long-term visits from friends and family. This might seem cold, but more than most societies, it's our nature as Americans to move away from home and define ourselves. What shapes us as individuals is what we experience out there. This has been our reason for pushing further and further out into our country. But what helps define us is also what ruins our surroundings. Our need for space has scarred our natural world with suburbs, exurbs, and freeways. It's also killed a lot of lovely views with monstrous, bulky structures.

Because Glass House is a work of art, it doesn't resolve any of our conflicts. But it certainly speaks to them (albeit very quietly). Who could observe Glass House and not walk away pondering what it means to have a room of one's own in America? We want our homes to be a comforting bosom, but we can't deny our nature to push away from it, to explore everything that's out there. We want what's out there and can't help but claim a piece of it for ourselves and no one else.