LongHouse and Jack Lenor Larsen's Legacy

“Let’s think about it,” textile designer Jack Lenor Larsen told his friend, architect Lee Skolnick. “What happens when I’m gone?”

Larsen was always a visionary, so it’s no surprise he was confronting his death head on and looking at how LongHouse, his legacy, would continue without him.

It’s been nearly four years since Larsen died in his East Hampton home, set among 16 acres of lush gardens and an ever-changing array of artwork from around the globe.

Skolnick spoke at LongHouse with writer Alastair Gordon and LongHouse Director Carrie Rebora Barratt on September 15. “Long Island Modern: The House That Jack Built” was the penultimate talk in the series that concludes on Sunday, October 6, at 3 p.m. with a discussion on preserving modern architecture.

“This was Lee and Alistair’s idea,” Barratt said when introducing Gordon to the stage, in front of Buckminster Fuller’s “Fly’s Eye Dome,” near the entrance to the property.

The series was based on the highly acclaimed Guild Hall exhibit “Long Island Modern: The First Generation of Modernist Architecture on Long Island, 1925-1960,” which Gordon curated and Skolnick designed in 1987.

Barratt thanked her guests as protectors of modern architecture from the first wave, “to the next wave and the next wave.” The two men have passionately encouraged people to respect, understand and save modern architecture.

Gordon moderated a follow-up to the Guild Hall show, “The Second Wave of Modernism on Eastern Long Island,” which included the works of Charles Gwathmey, Richard Meier and Norman Jaffe, last autumn at LongHouse.

He’s dedicated decades to writing on architecture for The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal. His books include “Weekend Utopia: Modern Living in the Hamptons” and “Beach Houses: Andrew Geller.”

As the wind whistled through a stand of bamboo, Gordon spoke about history.

Larsen got his lucky break in 1952 when he won a commission to create wall curtains for the Lever House, a 24-story glass and steel office building on Park Avenue in New York City. Interesting because the structure, the epitome of modern architecture, relies heavily on exterior curtain walls, made of steel.

He used linen cord and gold metal weaved together to drape the interior space. The warm, natural fibers complemented, as well as contrasted, the building’s cold International Style.

Larsen championed ancient weaving and crafting techniques, and simultaneously used modern technology. He sourced natural, grounded materials, such as goat hair, and drenched them in bold, rich colors evoking a tactile experience. His aim was to create three-dimensional textiles in a world of polyester.

Larsen quickly went from being a prolific student from Seattle, Washington, to producing goods in more than 30 countries, employing thousands of craftspeople who carded wool, spun yarn, and weaved fabrics that were featured in 16 museums throughout the world, including a solo exhibit at the Louvre in Paris in 1981. He wrote 10 books in his lifetime, including “Jack Lenor Larsen: A Weaver’s Memoir,” in 1998.

The University of Washington gave the 1949 graduate its highest honor, Alumnus Summa Laude Dignatus, “For his impact on the world of art and design and for the joy and beauty his work has given to the world,” the university’s magazine noted in 2005.

It was in the 1980s that Gordon first got to know Larsen, when he was living at Round House, now located on a separate but adjacent property to LongHouse.

Like countless other creatives, Gordon credited Larsen with helping him early in his career by introducing him to museums, architects and designers. “Jack was incredibly generous and supportive of the exhibitions and books I was writing at the time,” Gordon said.

“Round House was Larsen’s first home, built in 1964-’66 on a 10-acre tract of former farmland,” he said. “It had some great trees and open rolling fields.”

Although Larsen traveled to many cultures, seeking to learn and teach traditional ways of weaving, Africa and Japan influenced him the most when it came to his own homes.

Round House was inspired by the cylindrical mud houses he had seen on a trip to South Africa in 1961, Gordon said as he clicked through a slide show offering up examples of the simple yet stunning tribal structures.

Architect Robert Rosenberg designed Round House. As a side note, I had the thrill of living in the last house on Louse Point Road, another Rosenberg design. At high tide, you may or may not need waders to get out of the house.

Eventually, the intimate home became too small for Larsen’s needs and he started to plan a bigger house, based on Ise Grand Shrine, the most famous temple in Japan, dedicated to the sun goddess Amaterasu. Not a simple task being that those ephemeral structures have been recreated every 20 years for centuries and incorporate complicated joinery and no metal.

LongHouse was designed by Larsen in collaboration with architect Charles Forberg and built by Joe Tufariello in 1986, 11 years after he purchased the property.

“The Round House is now owned by Ennius Bergsma, a Dutch entrepreneur who has done an excellent job in restoring the house and the gardens surrounding the house,” Gordon said.

Skolnick, of Skolnick Architecture + Design Partnership, was up next. The Sag Harbor resident has been given a Lifetime Achievement Award from the American Institute of Architects, Long Island, and is vice president of the Board of Directors of LongHouse.

“I’ve spent hundreds of hours going through all this,” Skolnick said, pointing at some plans on the screen. “We’d have breakfast on the veranda. Sometimes, Jack would bring out cardboard models.”

Before Larsen infuriated his parents by studying weaving, his first major in college was architecture. “Jack was a master,” Skolnick said. “He was well informed by architecture. Scale, proportion, light.”

Skolnick spoke of a potential education center, a garden shed for kids to get out of the rain and an exhibit gallery for Larsen’s large collection of craft artifacts. At the same time, the house should be maintained as if “Jack went out for a quart of milk.”

Not a surprise, but Barratt had to rein the architect in. “We have no money to do this,” she said. “Jack left us a house and garden. It’s important to mention.”

“Creativity is in finding ways,” Skolnick countered.

Barratt rose from summer intern to deputy director at the Met, and followed that up with CEO and president of the New York Botanical Garden, the first woman to hold the position in its 127-year history. Still, she has her job cut out for her. She’s never had to deal with the permit process in East Hampton.

Attendance has quadrupled, but they have a long way to go before goals are met at LongHouse.

An ongoing assessment is basically a telephone book of repairs. They need a new boiler, new septic, and to repair the elevator, not to mention a website update and YouTube channel. “We’re getting there,” Barratt said. By 2025, she hopes to have LongHouse dedicated as a historic house museum with docent-led public tours.

All agreed that Larsen only had one thing to say when assessing his own legacy: “After I die, open the house to the public.”

Toward the end of the talk, women in the crowd began to unfurl their own lovely textiles in the form of scarves. One by one, the ladies who lunch reached for warmth and beauty as the sun sunk behind the “Fly’s Eye.” Sounds of a gong could be heard in the distance.