Living room of the Pope-Leighey House, a National Trust Historic Site. Photo by Ron Blunt.
Loren Pope, the original client for Frank Lloyd Wright’s Pope-Leighey House (a National Trust Historic Site near Alexandria, Virginia), recently died at age 98. Rarely do we have an opportunity to know the original clients or architects of National Trust Historic Sites to better understand their houses, but Pope’s long life and nearby residence allowed visitors and staff this unusual experience.
The Pope-Leighey House is significant for many reasons, primarily for its design by architectural master Frank Lloyd Wright; its ability to demonstrate that modest houses can be beautifully designed; and its role in the preservation philosophy in the national preservation movement. I’ve always enjoyed walking in and around, looking in and out of this small intricate wooden house, but even better is the story of Pope’s eager letter to Wright to commission a design: “There are certain things a man wants during life, and, of life. Material things and things of the spirit. The writer has one fervent wish that includes both. It is a house created by you. Will you create a house for us? Will you?” The first two reasons are explored in Loren Pope’s recent obituary in the Washington Post as well as at the tours of the house, so I’ll concentrate on the house’s significance in the history of historic preservation.
In the 1960s, the house was relocated to Woodlawn when it was threatened by demolition for the construction of a highway. The acquisition of this house by the National Trust for Historic Preservation changed the possibilities for historic preservation in the young organization. By accepting a house that was moved from its original setting, it signaled that relocation is a reasonable (although last course) option for preservation and muted the complaints of opponents who claimed preservationists unreasonably insisted that places be frozen in time and place. Ironically, I’ve heard that the highway that threatened the house was was never built, thus its relocation was not required—no one ever seems to complain when developers and highway engineers are both stubborn and fickle.
Secondly, it pushed NTHP into the “recent past” by acquiring a modern house that was barely more than 25 years old. I’m sure some members and trustees were scratching their heads at the time when it was proposed to save a house so young, but I’m glad they took the risk. Despite our long experience in preserving the recent past, it continues to be a risky proposition and many people still believe that a place cannot be significant unless it reaches a certain age (the National Register of Historic Places places the bar at 50 years, but other jurisdictions and programs have thresholds ranging from 30 to 75, which just proves that this is subjective and distracting thinking).
Finally, it is also rumored that Stewart Udall’s personal experience with the efforts to save this house (he was Secretary of the Interior under Presidents Kennedy and Johnson) was one of the reasons that persuaded him to author the National Historic Preservation Act of 1966 with George Hertzog, director of the National Park Service at the time. This act authorized the Secretary of the Interior to create and maintain a national register of historic districts, sites, and structures; provide funds for architectural surveys; provide matching grants to states and to the National Trust for Historic Preservation; and create the Advisory Council on Historic Preservation. This pushed preservation light years ahead and provides much of the foundation for our efforts today.
I regret that I never had a chance to meet Loren Pope and talk about his house, but I’m certainly glad he built it, that the National Trust for Historic Preservation saved it, and that people continue to be inspired by it. And although Loren Pope and Frank Lloyd Wright are no longer with us, their ideas and hopes are still alive at the Pope-Leighey House.
