An Architectural Pilgrimage: Visiting the Farnsworth House

I recently found myself in Chicago for my wife's big opening night—she was directing a new play, and I was there, dutifully applauding and proudly beaming. Yet, as thrilling as the theatrical occasion was, I confess my true excitement was reserved for the morning after: a pilgrimage I'd promised myself long ago, to a humble town called Plano, Illinois. My destination? None other than Ludwig Mies van der Rohe's legendary Farnsworth House, a temple of glass, steel, and exquisite simplicity.

Journey to Plano

Leaving Chicago behind, my wife and I swapped urban skyscrapers for open farmland, a gentle reminder that architectural wonder can flourish in the most unexpected places. Approaching the Farnsworth House felt like stepping towards a sacred monument—only this monument happened to be hovering above the earth on slender steel legs. Nestled amidst trees beside the Fox River, the house appeared ethereal, its elegant frame floating gracefully above the surrounding meadow.

First Impressions

The Farnsworth House, completed in 1951, is pure Mies: clean lines, flawless proportions, and minimalism at its most uncompromising. From a distance, the house looked like a delicate piece of modern art, suspended between land and sky. Its travertine terrace, pale and serene, seamlessly extended from outdoors to indoors, blurring the boundary between house and nature. Walking closer, I was struck by its absolute clarity. No visible staircases or railings mar the purity—steps at each end discreetly guide you up onto the floating platform, invisible from within the house.

A Hidden Masterpiece of Engineering

Mies's genius is in the details, the subtlety of his engineering. The travertine floor conceals radiant heating—a system of copper pipes gently warming the space. Even more elegantly hidden is the air circulation: a half-inch reveal around the ceiling perimeter softly delivers conditioned air, invisible yet wonderfully effective. The house might be a minimalist glass box, but it’s remarkably comfortable, even in Illinois’s notorious climate swings.

Inside the Glass Pavilion

Stepping inside felt almost ceremonial. The interior is essentially one open room, spacious yet intimate. Every element—the furniture, the wood paneling, the positioning of windows—felt intentional, almost inevitable. At the heart of the interior stands a beautiful wood-paneled core made of honey-hued Primavera wood. It houses bathrooms and utilities, adding warmth and visual richness to the otherwise starkly modern space.

The custom furniture, designed by Mies himself, reflects his relentless pursuit of simplicity. The famous Barcelona daybed invites contemplation, positioned perfectly to frame views of the river. Even the bed—sleek, low-profiled, and incredibly functional—captures the spirit of the house. A clever hidden drawer in the bed frame for a telephone subtly amused me: minimalist perfection meets practical ingenuity.

A Personal Inspiration

As someone who spends a good deal of time in my woodshop in Berkeley, I found myself particularly taken with the wood paneling and custom bed design. Ideas began forming for my own interpretations, drawing on Mies’s careful balance of beauty and utility.

The Human Story Behind the Architecture

As I wandered, the tour guide filled in a bit of history. Edith Farnsworth, a successful physician, commissioned this serene retreat from Mies. Rumors of their personal relationship—whether romantic or simply profound friendship—add a layer of intrigue to the Farnsworth story. Unfortunately, the project strained their connection, ultimately ending in bitter legal battles over cost overruns. Yet, standing in the tranquil elegance of the finished home, it’s hard not to feel some romanticism survived—captured in the timeless beauty of the architecture itself.

Why It Matters

The Farnsworth House isn’t merely a famous building; it’s a lesson in architectural purity and timeless elegance. Mies distilled a home to its essential form: shelter, clarity, and connection to nature. Its influence is vast, setting standards for open living spaces, glass-wall design, and minimalist aesthetics. This house embodies his belief that "less is more," a philosophy that, even decades later, feels refreshingly contemporary.

Craftsmanship and Inspiration

Exploring the house rekindled my passion for craftsmanship. I found myself examining joints and fixtures closely—the concealed curtain tracks, the perfect junctions between glass and steel, and the quiet integrity of each material. It's a reminder that great architecture isn't just visual drama; it's thoughtful execution of every detail.

As we returned to Chicago, I felt energized and inspired, sketching furniture ideas on hotel stationery, already mentally sourcing travertine and rich woods for future projects.

A Final Reflection

The Farnsworth House taught me, once again, the power of simplicity, reminding me of why I build: to craft spaces that inspire, soothe, and connect us to something greater than ourselves. If you have even a passing interest in architecture, take the pilgrimage to Plano. Your soul—and perhaps your sketchbook—will thank you.