Celebrating a Farr-Booth Centennial

With thousands of years of recorded history to draw from, every day of the year has some distinction as an anniversary. Today, the 27th of September, is the 958th anniversary of the day William, Duke of Normandy, set sail to conquer England, the 560th anniversary of the birth of Cosimo de’ Medici, founder of the de facto ruling family of Renaissance Florence, and the 100th anniversary of the wedding of Henry Scripps Booth to Carolyn Elizabeth Farr. Here at Cranbrook, it is this last anniversary that holds top billing on our calendars. 

Carolyn Elizabeth Farr, on her wedding day. Courtesy of Cranbrook Archives, Cranbrook Center for Collections and Research.
Henry Scripps Booth, on his wedding day. He later joked that it was the last time that he would ever wear a waistcoat. Courtesy of Cranbrook Archives, Cranbrook Center for Collections and Research.

Henry Booth, youngest son of Cranbrook’s founders, George and Ellen Booth, and Carolyn Farr, daughter of shipbuilding magnate Merton Elmer Farr and Emma Rothe, first announced their engagement on June 29th, 1925. Neither of them believed in long engagements, it appears, as they were married just three months later, at the First Congregational Church in Detroit. The wedding had some competition for most memorable event of the year for Carolyn Farr. On August 30th, while on her way home from a shopping trip to New York City to complete her trousseau, Carolyn’s train crashed into the back of another train which had made an accidental stop on the westbound line near Syracuse.  

Clipping from Buffalo Courier, August 31, 1924, page 56

Fortunately, no one was killed in the crash. Some members of a Boy Scouts troop riding at the back of the rear train actually slept through the collision and had to be shaken awake by their bemused troop leaders. Though she escaped serious injury, the crash left Carolyn with cuts on her nose and mouth, which may have still been painful on her wedding day, though they are invisible in her wedding photos.

Both of Henry’s sisters were married at Cranbrook House itself, Grace Booth in the living room and Florence Booth in the library. Although Henry was not married at Cranbrook, the wedding was still very much a Cranbrook event in one way, because it featured an Arts and Crafts artwork. The ring was carried down the aisle by Carolyn’s nephew, Henry Gerhauser, in a silver and enamel box made by the noted Boston-based artist Elizabeth Copeland.  

Carolyn Farr and ring bearer Henry Gerhauser holding the Copeland box. Detroit Free Press, October 5th, 1924.
Enameled silver casket, Elizabeth E. Copeland, circa 1922. Courtesy of Cranbrook Center for Collections and Research.

Enameling, like tapestry weaving and illumination, was a medieval art form revived by the Arts and Crafts movement in England in the nineteenth century. In the twentieth century, enameling evolved out of the medievalist styles that characterized its revival to become a primary medium of both Art Nouveau and Art Deco decorative art and jewelry.

Elizabeth Copeland was the foremost enamel artist of the American Arts and Crafts movement. Born in Revere, Massachusetts in 1866, she did not begin her artistic training until she was in her early thirties. Like many women artists, she was expected to balance her own work with domestic labor. Copeland had to commute daily to attend the Cowles Art School in Boston, and she studied her design patterns while carrying out household chores. So great was her talent, however, that within just a few years her enamels and silver work were already enjoying critical acclaim, including a feature in Craftsman magazine in 1903. Her work is now in many museum collections, including the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Art Institute of Chicago, and the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

As an artist, Copeland embraced the Arts and Crafts movement’s ideals. Eschewing a machine-like precision in her work, her silver work proudly exhibits subtle variations and inconsistencies that distinguish them as truly hand-crafted objects. Her enamel work embraces the fluidity of the medium, allowing different colors to flow into one another within each metal embrasure shaped to contain the liquid medium. Unlike most women artists of her time, Copeland was able to support herself independently through the sale of her work, during a career of more than three decades. She exhibited her work at many venues, including the Detroit Society of Arts and Crafts, where Henry Scripps Booth purchased the silver box that would hold the ring for his wedding, two years later.  

Henry Scripps Booth with his first child, Stephen Farr Booth, in Brookside Cottage, February 17th, 1925. Note the Copeland box on the mantelpiece. Courtesy of Cranbrook Archives, Cranbrook Center for Collections and Research.
The Copeland Box in Thornlea with a hand mirror by Arthur Nevill Kirk. Photography by Tryst Red, 2021. Courtesy of Cranbrook Center for Collections and Research.

After the wedding, the new couple moved into Brookside Cottage, the little stone house just west of Kingswood School, where they lived for two years until Thornlea House was completed. The Copeland box became a fixture of their new home, where they lived together from 1927 until Carolyn’s death in 1984. During her lifetime, the ring box spent many years on a table in Carolyn’s own bedroom, as a memento of a milestone occasion which we are celebrating again, one hundred years down the line.

Mariam Hale, 2023-2025 Collections Fellow, Cranbrook Center for Collections and Research

Photo Friday: The Football Game

Friday, September 27, 2024, is Homecoming at Cranbrook Kingswood Upper School. The game will be held in the Thompson Oval, to the east of The Football Game by David Evans.

The Football Game by David Evans. Thompson Oval, Cranbrook Kingswood Upper School – Cranbrook Campus.

Sculptor David Evans (1895-1959) was hired by the Cranbrook Foundation (through George Booth) as Professor of Sculpture and Life Drawing at the Academy of Art for 1929-1930. During that time, Booth commissioned him to create this bas relief for the football field at Cranbrook School for Boys. It is not just a bunch of nameless faces on the relief; it actually features members of the first football squad at Cranbrook School for Boys.

The 1930 Football Team, from The Brook, 1931 (Cranbrook School’s yearbook). Courtesy Cranbrook Archives.
Cranbrook School Football Sweater, circa 1930. Photographed by P.D. Rearick, 2019. Cranbrook Center for Collections and Research | Cultural Properties Collection, Archives.

During the 1930 football season, thirteen boys posed for Evans.

Members of the 1930 Cranbrook Football Team featured on The Football Game. Photos taken from 1931 and 1932 copies of The Brook. Courtesy Cranbrook Archives

The bas relief is in its original location – mounted above the steps leading to Alumni Court and overlooking Thompson Oval. If you are on campus for Homecoming, pose for a photo in your CKU green and blue with the 1930 football squad.

Leslie Mio, Associate Registrar, Cranbrook Center for Collections and Research

Ed. Note: The Football Game was recently cleaned and waxed by our friends at McKay Lodge Conservation Laboratory. They also touched up other Upper School favorites: Hermes, Discus Thrower, The Wrestlers, Running Dogs, Masque Art, Diana, Dancing Girls, and Aim High.

Photo Friday: Academy Student Life

These days, Instagram accounts are often used to curate and share our photographic memories. In a not-too-distant past, photographic albums were the medium of choice. One such album, created by a 1950 Academy of Art graduate, was recently donated to the Archives and gives us a rare student perspective of the Academy experience. As we welcome students back to campus, full of the promise of future opportunities, let’s take just a moment to look back at what that looked like for one student who attended seventy-five years ago.

Eleanor Ann Middleton (Painting,1950) and Angelo Caravaglia (Sculpture, 1950) on Cranbrook grounds, circa 1950. Courtesy of Cranbrook Archives.

Eleanor Ann Middleton (Annie) received her BFA and MFA in Painting from Cranbrook Academy of Art in 1949 and 1950, respectfully. Her photo album, assembled at least in part post-graduation, contains photographs from Cranbrook staff photographer, Harvey Croze, who also managed the studio and darkroom in the basement of the Academy Administration Building. These images—class photos on the Art Museum peristyle or familiar shots of the Triton Pools— are copies of those already in the Cranbrook Photograph Collection. But the bulk of the album contains snapshots that are unique to the Archives.

Jack Kearney (Painting 1948) creates al fresco, circa 1947-1948. Courtesy of Cranbrook Archives.

While Middleton was herself a photographer, she appears in many of the images, so the snapshots are likely a mix of her work, fellow Academy students, and perhaps even Croze, in an unofficial capacity. While not Academy staff or student, Croze was a practicing artist (painting and photography) and was known to spend much of his free time with Academy students. Whatever the case, the result is an intimate glimpse into student life.

Annie Middleton and a fellow student at one of many costume parties featured in the album, circa 1947-1950. Courtesy of Cranbrook Archives.

The Center wishes all students at the Academy and Cranbrook Kingswood Schools a wonderful 2024-25 academic year!

Deborah Rice, Head Archivist, Cranbrook Center for Collections and Research

Particular Architects, Elusive Materials: Headaches in Green and Red

I recently found myself at Joann Fabrics five minutes before the store closed, desperately selecting supplies for a project that was, of course, best completed that night. My delay was self-inflicted, but it got me thinking about times when much larger projects have been strained by access to supplies.

Specifically, both Eliel Saarinen and Frank Lloyd Wright created buildings with strong creative vision. Their architecture demanded specific, and sometimes hard to source, materials. Let’s look at two examples and decide if the headaches my favorite architects caused their suppliers and contractors/builders were worth the final product!

Example 1: Eliel Saarinen and Pewabic Pottery Tiles

Eliel Saarinen, Kingswood School for Girls Main Entrance Lobby (Green Lobby) plan, section, elevation, and reflected ceiling plan, c. 1930-1931. Ink, colored pencil, and pencil on tracing paper. Approx. 28½ inches x53 inches. Cranbrook Art Museum 1982.35. Photography by P.D. Rearick, Courtesy Cranbrook Center for Collections and Research.

When Eliel Saarinen specified thousands of hand-molded, hand-glazed, and hand-fired Pewabic Pottery tiles for use at Kingswood School for Girls, his contractor pushed back. Pewabic was less a tile factory than an artists’ workshop. As supplier of Kingswood’s industrially produced tile for bathrooms and basements, a concerned Mr. Burt of the Detroit Mantel and Tile Company wrote to the contractor, Charles Wermuth & Son:

We are doubtful as to [Pewabic Pottery] being able to manufacture the amount of tile as selected for this job. We raised this question during the course of selections but [Pewabic cofounder and artist] Mrs. Stratton advises that she will be able to produce this tile without any hold-up. We have advised her that any hold-up or delays caused from her material will be charged back to her.

We are writing you this letter merely as a protection against delays beyond our control.

Cranbrook Architectural Office, Box 26 Folder 11. Cranbrook Archives.

Saarinen wasn’t wrong to select Pewabic Pottery for Kingswood—it’s stunning and perfect in every way—but Burt wasn’t wrong about issues of production. It does appear that delays in the tile making caused delays in construction, raising blood pressure on both ends of Woodward Avenue.

As the first day of classes at Kingswood drew nearer, truck drivers from Cranbrook made near-daily trips to the pottery for small batches of tiles. I imagine the kiln-fresh mini-masterpieces still warm to the touch!

Did the delay in tile delivery keep Kingswood from opening on time? No. An outbreak of polio in metro Detroit meant all schools were closed by state health officials. But Wermuth used the extra time to finish the building—all Pewabic tiles were well-set and grouted for classes to begin September 21, 1931.

Eliel Saarinen and Mary Chase Perry Stratton’s 1931 masterpiece, the Green Lobby Stair. The headache of contractor Charles Wermuth and Son was worth the stress. Photography by James Haefner, 2018. Courtesy Cranbrook Center for Collections and Research.

Example 2: Frank Lloyd Wright and “The Wood Eternal”

In February 1949, Melvyn Maxwell Smith was ready to start building his long-awaited dream: a wood and brick Usonian house designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. With enough money squirreled away to begin construction, Smithy was ready to order materials. Including 14,000 linear feet of clear, old-growth, 16’ x 1’ x 2” boards of Tidewater Red Cypress wood.

Frank Lloyd Wright, detail of House for Mr. and Mrs. Melvyn M. Smith elevation, August 1948. Blueprint. Courtesy Cranbrook Archives.

Wright had built in Cypress since at least 1914, with his first all-Cypress design, the Wiley House, coming off the drafting board in 1932. The iconic Usonian houses of the 30s and 40s are mostly built of this swamp-grown, super strong, rot-resistant golden wood.

Cypress proved to be perfect for Wright’s organic architecture. And by 1949, Cypress was incredibly hard to find.

Smithy wrote to many different lumberyards with his needed material list. Those closest to the swamps where Cypress grows—lumberyards in South Carolina and Louisiana—were unable to furnish the volume of wood needed. Lumber yards in the Midwest simply stated they did not carry Cypress. Chicago-based Hilgard Lumber Company wrote, “We duly received your inquiry…on a carload of Tidewater Red Cypress (clear grade) but clear grade in this species is extremely scarce.”

In February 1949, Fleishel Lumber Company of St. Louis (who had been forwarded Smithy’s large request) agreed to fulfill the order. Smithy simply needed to let the yard know when he wanted the wood delivered. Or at least, that was the idea.

Every month, Smith wrote, called, or telegrammed Fleishel, asking for his order. And every month, the lumber yard replied: we don’t have it all, but we have some. As time ticked by and Smithy’s house waited to take shape, Fleishel offered up concessions. Instead of kiln dried, would Smithy accept natural dried Cypress? No. Recycled or swamp-preserved? No. Smaller boards, but more boards? No.

Smithy needed what Wright specified: long, wide boards. By August 9, 1949, things were looking up, even if Fleishel’s salesman sounds a bit annoyed:

…We are doing all we possibly can to accumulate all the stock to be put in the dry kiln.

As advised several times, we are having considerable trouble in accumulating the 1×12…We cannot, at this time, tell you exactly when shipment can be made. We regret very much this delay, but you must take into consideration this is quite a difficult list of items.

Smithy’s goal of having the lumber on hand during the Summer holiday, when he could be on-site every day, did not happen. His first day teaching his Cody High English class that year? September 5.

Finally, on September 23, 1949, Fleishel Lumber packed a railroad car full of 14,000 linear feet of clear, kiln-dried Cypress and sent it toward Bloomfield Hills. Just seven months and a few days after it was ordered.

Work continues on Cypress boards of Smith House, winter 1949-1950. Courtesy Cranbrook Archives.

About seven months later, Melvyn and Sara Smith had a Cypress house! When it was completed in May 1950, the Smith House became Frank Lloyd Wright’s last entirely Cypress-built project.

Tidewater Red Cypress with Detroit Common Brick defines the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed Smith House, 1950. Courtesy Cranbrook Archives.

So, did being particular about materials pay off for Mr. Wright and Mr. Saarinen? I think the Smiths and thousands of Cranbrook students would agree: absolutely.

Kevin Adkisson, Curator, Cranbrook Center for Collections and Research

Note: Oh, and if you want old-growth Cypress today? The current owner of the Frank Lloyd Wright Willey House, Steve Sikora, described the purchasing of Cypress wood in the 2010s as operating among “an assortment of hucksters, charlatans, and petty criminals, or in industry parlance, ‘wood brokers.’” Head on over to The Whirling Arrow blog to read a lot more about Cypress and Wright!

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com