A Message:

From Steve Kroeter

"Louis Kahn was a genius, a man of transcendent human superiority. 

. . . He left the world a richer place."

These words appeared in an editorial in the Philadelphia Inquirer on March 21, 1974, shortly after Kahn’s death. They remind us of the importance of this unorthodox soul.

The architectural historian Vincent Scully said of Kahn that more than any other architect of his generation, he was a great teacher. Indeed, the case can be made that he trained a whole generation of students that redirected and remade American architecture.

The objective of the Louis I. Kahn Facsimile Project is to remind us in the 21st century of the timeless principles that Kahn stood for and advocated in the 20th century.

Before he became known to Scully—and long before he was awarded a Gold Medal by the American Institute of Architects and a Royal Gold Medal by the Royal Institute of British Architects—Kahn was admired, even revered, by the students he taught at Yale, Princeton, and the University of Pennsylvania. He was their acknowledged spiritual leader—their Buddha. 

He was known to tell the truth in a way that was uncommon if not completely unheard of in the profession. Everything about him—his voice, his scarred face, the way he dressed, his way of anthropomorphizing, his slightly mystical, slightly obscure way of communicating—reinforced the perception of him as other-worldly, as being part of a different reality, existing in a different universe.

Richard Saul Wurman was Kahn’s student at Penn in 1953. Wurman remembers after his first class with Kahn, returning home and telling his parents he had met someone very special, someone who was going to be very famous.

After graduating, Wurman went to work in Kahn’s architectural office in downtown Philadelphia. He was one of the talented and highly motivated group working with Kahn to help make his visions materialize. Seeing Kahn outside the classroom, at work in his studio, reinforced Wurman’s view of Kahn’s genius.

By the late 1950s and into the ’60s Kahn had received some recognition in the professional architectural journals, but he was for the most part operating without media attention and no book had been published addressing his work.

Realizing what he was in the middle of and where Kahn was going, in 1960, Wurman, along with his good friend Eugene Feldman (a distinguished Philadelphia printer), proposed to Kahn the idea of a book that would feature sketches from his travels and drawings of his projects, paired with texts from his notebooks and unpublished speeches. Boldly, Wurman suggested that he (age 25), not Kahn (age 59), would be responsible for choosing all the content. Wurman’s selections turned out to be completely different from what Kahn had anticipated. But Kahn admitted fascination with the choices—and he gave his approval.

Wurman and Feldman made the book by hand, composing and pasting it up page by page as was the practice at that time. Many of the paste-ups still exist and are included in the Louis I. Kahn Collection at the University of Pennsylvania’s Architectural Archives. All but one of the 76 drawings included in the book were reproduced at actual size.

The Notebooks and Drawings of Louis I. Kahn was printed in 1962 on a Harris 23 x 35 LTP 2-color press. The credited publisher was Feldman’s imprint, the Falcon Press. The print run consisted of 1,800 copies, with each copy selling for $14.50. Kahn was pleased with the results and signed and numbered the first 175 copies. The book was a hit; the first print run sold out. 

A second print run of 3,000 copies was released in 1973 (a year before Kahn’s death), this time from MIT Press. This edition included a letter from Kahn to Wurman and Feldman in which Kahn expressed great admiration and appreciation for the book. From an invoice in the possession of Nathaniel Kahn, we know that two weeks before his death, Kahn bought two copies (on account) of Notebooks and Drawings from Joseph Fox Bookshop in downtown Philadelphia. 

In 2018, I had the chance to view a copy of the 1973 edition of Notebooks and Drawings at the New York Public Library. Everything about the book made me feel that it was a great candidate for a facsimile project. It had been out of print long enough that copies in good condition were hard to find; the text content was meaningful; the page design was quietly and effectively sympathetic to the images; the entire package was beautifully put together as a three-dimensional object—a cream-colored linen cover, with a special logo and the title type, both gold-embossed.

Wurman initially resisted the idea of doing a facsimile. After Notebooks and Drawings, it was common for his books to sell out and then remain, by his choice, out of print. Frank Lloyd Wright is said to have removed the rearview mirror from his Lincoln Continental, explaining that he had no interest in what was behind him, that he was focused on what was ahead. Wurman felt similarly. Why, he asked, redo something that’s already been done; focus instead on what’s next.

Wurman only relented when he understood that the idea was to include a companion Reader’s Guide. This he saw as an opportunity to provide context and insights, and the chance to present new materials that very few had ever had the chance to see previously. This approach meant establishing a close collaboration with the University of Pennsylvania’s Architectural Archives and working with its curator and collections manager, William Whitaker, and his colleagues.

It also meant working with Nathaniel Kahn, whose 2003 documentary film, My Architect, did so much to generate a new wave of interest in his father’s work. 

With the plan to include the Reader’s Guide, and with the cooperation of Nathaniel Kahn and the Kahn Collection secured, Wurman gave his okay. 

So now here we are—preparing for a campaign on Kickstarter to assist with funding for the Project.

In a world that shouts at every turn, louder and louder, it is perhaps something of an odd idea to choose now to focus attention on the notebooks and drawings of Kahn, who never sought out the spotlight and who kept his practice in Philadelphia, never once thinking to move to New York where he might have secured a higher profile. But in fact we know Kahn did want the ideas he stood for to be acknowledged and appreciated. Because they are as relevant now as they were decades ago, it makes perfect sense to celebrate them again. 

In addition to the kind and extensive support of Richard Saul Wurman; Nathaniel Kahn; and William Whitaker, Allison Olsen, and Heather Isbell Schumacher at the University of Pennsylvania’s Architectural Archives, the Project has benefited at this early stage from the generous assistance of Larry and Steven Korman, who commissioned and maintain Kahn’s last residential design. 

We hope that from this Project you will experience the spirit of Louis Kahn and that the two companion volumes will serve as a memorable and meaningful reminder of his unique and inspirational legacy.

Steve Kroeter — September 2020

Messages From:

Richard Saul Wurman—

The word “indulgence” has connotations that people often try to distance themselves from. I feel quite differently. All the work I’ve done has been slathered with indulgence. It has been my modus operandi.  
Read More

William Whitaker—

Wurman and Feldman’s Notebooks and Drawings of Louis I. Kahn is a big book ­not just by the measure of its folio size ­but by audaciously and courageously getting you into the head of the architect. 
Read More