Bucolic Bucks County, PA, is home to at least 2 of America's great architectural treasures; the Fonthill estate and museum in Doylestown. Both are nearing their centennial anniversaries. As a building, the Fonthill estate, I think, rivals Wright's Fallingwater though it's not nearly as well-known. In fact, in my college studies of architectural history, neither Fonthill nor the museum was ever mentioned. Perhaps this is due to the fact that their owner and creator, Henry Chapman Mercer, was thankfully a philanthropist and tile manufacturer rather than an architect. Even so, to omit his buildings from any serious study of architecture is remiss.
Fonthill from Court Street, Doylestown, PA
Built entirely of reinforced concrete, Fonthill is adorned with ceramic tiles made at Mercer's tile works. Mercer's work was especially well-known throughout the world in the first half of the 20th century. He was also an avid collector of tiles from around the world and much of collection can be seen when touring the estate.
I came to know Fonthill through my father-in-law, Richard (Mac) McCarthy. His daughter, Ann, and their family lived in Doylestown. Mac was an architect with passion - he had read every book on architecture in his local library. And he knew how to build things. On a family visit with my wife, Molly, Mac took us over to the Fonthill estate for the first time. I fell in love with the building as soon as we pulled up the tree-lined drive.
What's so spectacular about Fonthill is that the building was built using a completely ancient, organic, and rudimentary method.
Mercer started with a rough conceptual plaster model; but he developed each space individually as he built. He directed his small crew daily, and used a series of simple sketches and on-site analyses to determine the shape of every aspect of the building. Drawing from his travels, study of caves, and passion for construction, the product of his labor and imagination is so much more than remarkable.
Fallingwater is usually heralded as America's most archetypal romantic home. However, its plan, section, and detail are rigidly geometric. Fonthill, on the other hand, does not subrogate the creation of wonderful spaces to the limits of plan and section. Mercer's objective was space; and the building was a manifest consequence. In this regard, what Mercer accomplished is architecturally wondrous. With no formal training, or because of the lack of it, he was free to let his intuition be his only guide.
Driven by passion and his motto of "Plus Ultra" or "more beyond", Mercer's spirit and legacy are uplifting and enduring.
The other interesting point raised by the enchantment of Fonthill, is that the process of construction he implemented necessarily reinforced and complemented Mercer's spacial objectives. That is, the daily process of hand-mixing concrete and placing a few cubic yards per day required a constant, organic evolution of space that could never be achieved by building from a set of architectural plans. Windows were sized and placed on site. It's pleasantly evident. Domes and vaults were created by forming concrete over piles of earth shored up with timber falsework. When the concrete had set, Mercer would strip away the formwork from underneath sending tons of fill material crashing down in the newly created space revealing its raw grandeur.
I return to Fonthill every year with many fond memories of my father-in-law. My life continually made richer through both. The magic of the place surprises me every time. Different with each passing minute, light changes quality and contrast throughout the day and seasons, with the comforting labyrinth within ever compelling more exploration.
See it for yourself and be sure to see the museum, too. Being so close to Philadelphia, Fonthill is an easy day-trip for tens of millions of Americans. If you're an architect or architecture student - be encouraged to let its whimsy go to seed and flower in a future project.
