Celebrations of prolific American architect Frank Lloyd Wright have been at an all-time high this year to honor what would have been the Wisconsin native’s 150th birthday. And yet, with all the fanfare for his professional life — from the Museum of Modern Art exhibit to the Prairie Style Passport — little of the spotlight has shone on his fascinating personal life. At the intersection of those two spheres sits Taliesin, Wright’s terrifically tragic pièce de résistance.
By the time he met Martha “Mamah” Borthwick Cheney, the woman who would become his mistress, Wright had more than made a name for himself. She and her husband, Edwin, commissioned him to design and construct their new home in Oak Park, Illinois. (The 1903 brick structure is on the National Register of Historic Places and for a time served as a bed and breakfast.) Though married with six children, Wright fell hard for Mamah (who herself had two children), and their clandestine affair began.
It was in 1909 that the two ran off to Europe together in what he called a “voluntary exile into the uncharted and unknown,” leaving behind their families and causing quite a stir amongst high society. When they returned stateside two years later, Wright realized they wouldn’t be welcomed back to Chicago. And so he set out to build them a retreat on his favorite hill in his hometown of Spring Green, Wisconsin. Edwin divorced Mamah in 1911, but Wright’s wife (the first of three) didn’t grant him freedom until 1922 — long after tragedy had struck at Taliesin.
The twosome attempted to quietly enjoy the Wisconsin countryside, but the press was tipped off and made its way to the Jones Valley to report on the “love bungalow.” Wright, ever the eccentric, offered up unapologetic explanations: “Two women were necessary for a man of artistic mind,” he said. “One to be mother of his children and the other to be his mental companion, his inspiration and soulmate.”
Photography provided by the University of Utah J. Willard Marriott Library and Wisconsin Historical Society
After a career slump due in large part to the scandal, the architect was tapped to design Midway Gardens, a beer hall and entertainment center situated in Chicago’s Hyde Park neighborhood. He was working on the project on August 15, 1914 — the day his lover and six others were brutally murdered at his Wisconsin home.
Mamah was enjoying lunch on the porch with her two children, who were visiting for the summer; some of the estate workers, meanwhile, were eating in the main dining room. Serving them was Julian Carlton, a Barbados native who, along with his wife, had been working at Taliesin for a few months. He reportedly had been acting strangely and recently had been asked to leave. After serving the soup, Carlton snuck back to the porch and buried a hatchet in Mamah’s skull, following suit with her children. He then barricaded the home’s doors and set fire to the structure, waiting outside with his axe to attack anyone who attempted to escape. Only two people survived; they ran for help.
Carlton was eventually found on the grounds, having swallowed muriatic acid. He was taken to jail and died of starvation several weeks later due to a burned esophagus. His motive for the rampage was never revealed. Wright and his lover’s ex-husband arrived late that night to find a “devastating scene of horror,” as the architect put it. Edwin took his children’s remains back to Chicago to be laid to rest. A broken Wright filled Mamah’s casket with flowers from her garden and buried her himself on the grounds of the nearby chapel.
Wright immediately set out to rebuild his Taliesin in honor of his Mamah. And when the home sustained another fire in 1925 (this time due to faulty electrical wiring), he rebuilt again. Indeed, until his dying days, he remained true to his one enduring love: Taliesin.
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