In the fable “The Three Little Pigs,” three houses of different materials are constructed to evade the Big Bad Wolf. Compared to its straw and stick predecessors, the house made of brick is clearly superior thanks to its ability to withstand mighty gusts of wind. Although present-day construction methods have allowed for a multitude of sturdy building materials, the choice of three structures within the story falls in line with the rule of thirds, a popular proportionality used in design. This dialogue between thirds—between three materials—maintains an equilibrium that isn’t overwhelming. A similar, rather harmonious interplay of three materials, in an actual built scenario of glass, brick, and paper, is currently visible in New Canaan, Connecticut, at Philip Johnson’s Glass House.
One of the most recognizable residences in the United States, the Glass House is an icon of midcentury modernism. Its openness—taking inspiration from the design of Mies van der Rohe’s yet-unbuilt Farnsworth House—was revolutionary and spurred generations of material use in unconventional applications. Sited immediately adjacent on the property, though, is the lesser-known guest house, the Brick House, which recently underwent a $1.8 million restoration from the National Trust for Historic Preservation after being closed to the public for 17 years due to flooding and mold issues. In conjunction with the reopening of the Brick House, Japanese architect and Pritzker Prize laureate Shigeru Ban recently unveiled the installation Shigeru Ban: The Paper Log House nearby on the property. This triad of building materials have come together to mark the 75th anniversary of the Glass House.
The Brick House, completed mere months before its adjacent companion in 1949, is modest in size and hosts only three rooms—a bedroom, library, and bathroom—connected by a single linear corridor. The bedroom is rather opulent, now cloaked in a donated replacement of the original pink, aquamarine, and gold fabric wallcovering from the Venetian textile house Fortuny. A thin white vaulted canopy with slender columns rests just below the ceiling as indirect light cascades onto the walls, leaving the frameless bed in an intimate shadow; Johnson later revealed his desire for discretion as a closeted gay man in the 1950s. The vaulted canopy would later provide unequivocal inspiration for the dining room in Johnson’s 1964 Beck House in Dallas. In its original state, the lavish dining room also featured Fortuny fabric walls—since removed—and indirect lighting, creating an atmosphere nearly identical to that of Johnson’s guest bedroom. The exterior two-story white arcade perimeter of the Beck House was replicated from another of Johnson’s works on his Connecticut property: it is a scaled-up reproduction of Pavilion in the Pond, located downhill from his Glass House.
The personal library, in blunt contrast to the regalness of the bedroom, joins purple carpet with mint green walls and yellow curtains, while a pair of pink and blue Feltri chairs designed by Gaetano Pesce match the flamboyance of the room. A small Picasso sculpture and nearly 1,000 pieces of nonarchitectural literature—including some from Johnson’s well-documented problematic past with fascism—rest upon the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf opposite the chairs.
The bathroom is also distinct from the other two rooms. A thin skylight with vanity bulbs amongst a vaulted ceiling accentuates a black and white marble interior with brass finishings; the design combines elements later employed in both his ascending all-white Thanks-Giving Square Chapel in Dallas and the bifurcated petroleum-black Pennzoil Place in Houston. Completed in consecutive years in the mid-1970s, both the chapel and the oil company’s former headquarters reveal not only the diversity of Johnson’s clients, but also the influence of light, sturdiness, and spirituality, as they pertain to function and material selection, originating from his own property.
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The Glass House property served as the built laboratory of Johnson’s architectural exploration, which is reflected throughout much of his portfolio, particularly within Texas. A year after the architect completed the Glass and Brick houses, oil tycoons John de Menil and his wife, Dominique, also avid art collectors, commissioned Johnson, who was then still relatively unknown to Texans, for their private home in Houston. Like Johnson’s own home, their sleek modernist 5,600-sf residence garnered local attention, as it defied the style of adjacent mansions in the affluent River Oaks neighborhood. This project was the first of Johnson’s 15 other realized works within the state that included Transco Tower (renamed Williams Tower in 1999) in Houston and the Fort Worth Water Gardens—the former thanks to a lengthy relationship with Gerald Hines, who also developed Pennzoil Place and whose real estate company was headquartered in Williams Tower since its opening until mid-2022. Johnson’s relationship with Hines, as well as many other developers and clients, can be traced back to the de Menils, who influenced his commissions and ultimately his legacy, both within and beyond the state. The couple was directly or indirectly responsible for the Amon Carter Museum of American Art in Fort Worth, the University of St. Thomas in Houston, the aforementioned Beck House, and the Art Museum of South Texas in Corpus Christi, among others.
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While the Brick House and Glass House are paradoxical to each other, the addition of the Paper Log House furthers the dialogue of material use on the site. Shigeru Ban, famous for his daringly complicated yet precise use of timber and paper in architecture, founded his self-titled firm in Tokyo in 1985. His steadfast pursuit of meaningful architecture and inquisitive love of design led him to develop quick-assembly structures for humanitarian crises. These temporary paper log houses are often used as shelters, medical facilities, and places of worship, and have been deployed in five continents over the past three decades in response to violent acts of nature and, more recently, war.
Each deployment of the paper log house differs from the next due to local material availability while still sharing relatively similar proportions. The prefabricated shelter displayed in New Canaan is comprised of 156 cardboard tubes with a polyurethane varnish for weathering protection. The plywood flooring sits atop 30 milk crates, weighted with sand bags, that function as a foundation. A waterproof tarp-like canvas membrane acts as the roof, and its triangulated overhangs provide ventilation on opposite sides. Windows on three sides can be propped open with a wooden dowel to increase air flow. The primitiveness of the structure enables a comforting simplicity that can often be lost in architectural typologies that are purely functional, making Paper Log House both practical and charming. While this full-scale installation is only a model, it still retains an aspect of localized construction and volunteerism, as it was built by architecture students from Cooper Union, Ban’s alma mater. Although most paper log houses are temporary installments, the Cardboard Cathedral in Christchurch, New Zealand, deployed in response to a 6.3 magnitude earthquake in 2011, is still used to this day, highlighting the impact of Ban’s efforts in local communities.
During Johnson’s many decades in New Canaan, his homestead served as a playground of architectural experimentation, which makes Ban’s inclusion at the Glass House a perfect fit, given his praised innovative timber and paper construction methods. Kirsten Reoch, executive director at The Glass House, noted the parallels, saying: “The Paper Log House continues this ethos of experimentation of urgent social problems with recyclable and easily available materials.” The dialogue added by Ban’s temporary housing enables a new conversation between the previously well-documented Johnson houses about materiality, constructability, and temporality, as well as the intended users of each dwelling, in a manner that has been formerly unseen on the property. While Johnson passed away nearly two decades ago, there is a consensus that Ban’s installation, which reflects the essentialness of architecture, would have gladly been welcomed amongst his own creations. All three buildings are available to visit through the end of the year.
Cole Von Feldt is a designer, photographer, and writer educated in Austin and Copenhagen and trained in New York and Houston. He currently lives and works in New York.