On Monday, the National Trust for Historic Preservation sold Frank Lloyd Wright’s Home and Studio in Oak Park, Illinois but don’t worry, it’ll still be preserved and open to the public. It was acquired by the Frank Lloyd Wright Preservation Trust, who has been operating and managing the site for nearly four decades and I suspect will be there for many more. In the 1970s, the FLWPT was a fledging organization that was attempting to save the Prairie-style home and studio of Frank Lloyd Wright, which had become badly deteriorated and cut up into a half dozen apartments by a private owner. It didn’t have the ability to purchase the property when it came up for sale, so they partnered with the National Trust to buy the property. The FLWPT would eventually repay the National Trust for its half of the $260,000 purchase price but in the meantime, the National Trust would hold the title and lease it to the FLWPT at a nominal price. The success of this venture prompted these two organizations to partner on the preservation of the Robie House, a Frank Lloyd Wright masterpiece which is owned by the University of Chicago but was badly maintained (another example of a university mistreating historic places!). With the sale of the Home and Studio, the Robie House partnership is also concluded and the FLWPT will work directly with the University.
I’m not sure what the change in relationship means, but just a few days ago, the Robie House and Frank Lloyd Wright Home and Studio were National Trust Historic Sites, two of 29 historic places sprinkled across the United States. It’s a ragtag collection that by itself makes no interpretive sense, doesn’t adequately represent American history or culture, isn’t connected by ownership (some NTHS are owned by others) or management (most NTHS are operated by other non-profits), and wasn’t formed to achieve a specific strategy or vision (they were mostly added as opportunities arose, donors made offers, or presidents were seduced). But with this transition, I hope it sparks some discussion around two important national issues for historic sites:
1. The need for a national organization to promote, support, and advocate for historic sites that are used for educational purposes. The greatest value National Trust Historic Sites provide is for themselves: an association of like-minded individuals and organizations to share ideas and resources in a regular manner. Twice a year the site directors convene to discuss areas of mutual concern, be inspired, and help each other. There were only a few dozen people in the room at any one time, but stepping back, I realized it was the largest and longest-running gathering of historic sites in the country. This group was small, unevenly matched, and it wasn’t of sufficient size to create much momentum, but you could see the potential. Other organizations, such as the American Association of Museums or the American Association for State and Local History, welcome historic house museums but haven’t quite developed the kinds of resources available at the National Trust for Historic Preservation, such as grants, publications, training, and expertise. Historic house museums (and their ilk, including tenements, prisons, churches, schools, farms, ghost towns, archaeological sites that are primarily used for public educational purposes) represent the largest category of museum in the United States and reach more people annually than professional football and baseball combined. Will the National Trust see this is an opportunity to build capacity within organizations to increase the impact of historic places on communities across the country, or will it see it as a distraction from their mission to, “help people protect, enhance, and enjoy the places that matter to them”? Strangely, the National Trust has a long history of ambivalence towards its own Historic Sites, sometimes running hot, sometimes cold, so I’m not sure in which direction the pendulum currently swings. It could also be an opportunity for another national organization to step into the breech.
2. The need to rethink that preservation = ownership = preservation. Property rights is one of the common battlegrounds for historic preservation, and many people (especially elected officials) are unwilling to force a property owner to save a building if he wants to demolish it. As a result, many preservation organizations have resolved the dilemma by simply purchasing the property. Sure, the property is saved but the problem is that it bolsters the argument of, “I won’t tell you what to do with your property, and you better not tell me what to do with mine, so everyone mind your own business” and avoids the tougher but longer-lasting work of building shared values around history, heritage, and culture. I hope this transition in the ownership of the Frank Lloyd Wright Home and Studio will regard it as a new model for stewardship and question the assumption that preservation organizations have to own a property indefinitely in order to see it preserved and used for good purposes. Rather than an ownership model, perhaps the National Trust and other preservation organizations could act as a “foster home” to care and nurture sites with the eventual goal that they “live on their own.” They’d always be part of the “family” and would be welcome, but otherwise they’d be making their own contributions to society. This could mean that the National Trust would purchase a significant property and as the owner, would rally and invest various resources to see it preserved; put in place an organizational foundation to help it eventually succeed on its own (including the development of a local board and identification of the next non-profit owner); and create a community of similar historic sites through a national association (see #1 above). Each site would develop over 10-20 years and as each one left the nest, another would take its place.
I suspect that the Historic Sites of the National Trust will go through many more changes in the next year or so under its new administration but I do hope that the urgency to complete these transitions doesn’t prevent them from evaluating and reflecting on bigger issues. Preservation organizations would be more strategic if saw their roles as temporary owners yet lifetime partners of historic places so they could have a broader and longer impact in the communities they serve.
Okay! I will be the devil’s advocate and suggest that the sale – and it’s justification – are a veiled maneuver by the NTHP to raise funds to keep their operation going. Maybe I am wrong, what do your other readers feel about this suggestion?
Now the second issue seems to point to a well established practice known as a “revolving fund”. Again, am I reading this right?
i agree too, I just forgot to mention it. Financial desperation could also be a way to develop new and robust practices, but it usually doesn’t happen.
“When a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully.” But who listens to Samuel Johnson any more?
Thanks for the reminder about “revolving funds,” Carter. I think they could serve as a model, although I’d make it more than just a loan of funds to preserve a site and bring additional resources (e.g., expertise, staffing, funds, training) to ensure its sustainability. We’re now encountering situations of saving the same sites again (e.g., places that were previously saved are threatened today because of the economic downturn and lack of community support; several examples are provided in Death with Dignity by Amy Rogers Nazarov).
I am not sure your point #2 is fully thought out. Probably the issue back in the day with the FLW building was twofold (1) lack of capacity of local institutions and (2) the fact that the building was an FLW house and therefore was considered a building/historic site of particular significance (not unlike how Mount Vernon motivated the beginnings of the historic preservation movement).
The issue is that the Trust “should” be the capacity developing institution, and it probably thinks that it is doing that just fine, even though your first point illustrates that it isn’t just within one sector of the field, that there is a significant gap in the capacity building capabilities that are provided.
The preservation movement at the local level is torn between community building and triage. In most old center cities, large or small, there has been population and commercial leakage for decades and the communities are desperate, poor–comparatively speaking, and in desperate need of stabilization. Hence, preservation.
Most communities don’t have adequate and ranging cultural planning initiatives, even though they do have preservation plans if they are CLGs. There is often tension between neighborhood and city/countywide preservation movements, and lack of resources and commitment.
My sense is that the Trust believes by supporting state level preservation groups who in turn support capacity development at the local level that they are doing their job.
And I don’t think that the Trust has provided the state and local groups with an armory of materials that will successfully counter the property rights arguments.
E.g., how many states have preservation tax credit programs; how many states/regions have revolving funds; focused preservation-based revitalization programs like “Pine Street” in PA; high quality Main Street efforts; etc. ?
But re your recent post about metrics, no one is evaluating, objectively, how that’s working out, at the national, state, and local levels. Judging by newspaper articles I’m reading from across the country about local preservation issues, I’d argue it isn’t.
Great points. Thanks
Thanks for your comments. I probably compressed too many ideas into Point #2 to clearly express my thoughts (which may require more space than a blog post allows). Perhaps I should align my point to yours by saying that I do think the National Trust should be building capacity at the state and local level, and its Historic Sites program could be a major method for making that happen. Ironically, most National Trust Historic Sites (and I believe most historic house museums) don’t believe they’re in the “historic preservation business” so there’s a significant gap in their missions.
I’m left wondering what would have been said in the article if the author could have said what was really on his mind. Anyone care to jump in and say it?
That this is the beginning of the Trust’s divesting itself of all its historic sites?
I have to say that I’m surprised that the Trust let go of such a high-profile site. I thought one of the struggling local-interest sites would be the first to go.
So what about Lyndhurst and Woodlawn? Can they sell Woodlawn or is it encumbered in such a way that they can’t?
A couple years ago each National Trust Historic Site was evaluated along several criteria, including number of buildings, acreage, endowment, income, staffing, deferred maintenance, donor restrictions, and easements, to better understand their situation and possible options. I wasn’t involved with that discussion nor its conclusions, so I can’t tell you much more.
Reblogged this on Jabez Bacon House and commented:
People often say to us “Your house should be a museum!” and suggest that the town or some other entity take it over. That kind of comment is well-meant, but oblivious of the larger issues plaguing historic house museums. Thinking about the larger issues of historic preservation and use of historic and heritage sites remains critically important, and deserves as much creativity and innovative, practical thinking as can be brought to bear.
It’s hard to discern what the Trust’s intentions are at this point, but it seems possible that they are moving away from being a site-owning entity and towards more of an advocacy group. If they are going to divest themselves of properties, I hope that they continue to do so in a responsible manner. It’s going to be interesting to see what the future holds…