PM: Were you part of the first graduating class? FKB: I'm not quite sure.
PM: And the AA in London? FKB: That was the oldest architectural school in the world practically.
I got to go there because I'd been traveling for a year in Italy and went
back to Finland, where I spent summers with the Saarinens. While I was there
Eliel said, "Well, it's time you got back into school." Alvar
Aalto was there for lunch one day, and he said, "I just came back from
London, and I think the Architectural Association is a terrific school."
PM: You cite Eliel Saarinen and Mies as your two
most important teachers. What did you learn from each of them? FKB: The atmosphere at Kingswood and Cranbrook, with its warm brick building
and beautifully planned landscape with Carl Milles sculpture, was a great
learning experience. The message from Mies for
clarification of planning and details was a totally important influence
on my work.
PPM: Were there times when you had to compromise? FKB: I never felt a sense of compromise, because both approaches were compatible
to the planning process.
PM: Let's talk about Connecticut General in Bloomfield, Connecticut. My
sense is that Frazar Wilde, the president of the company, had a seminal
role in the project. FKB: Frazar Wilde's background and that of his staff was New England Colonial.
However, he was a very bright, progressive man with imagination and conception
for the future of his company. He wanted to move to open space from the
restrictive quarters in Hartford. He hired SOM and asked them to suggest
an interior designer because he wanted a "second opinion." I
was hired. His success in swaying the staff to modern design came about
by arranging regular meetings for each step in the design and engineering
program to include all concerned.
PM: There's a great picture of you surrounded by all these men in suits
at the boardroom table... FKB: The photograph is at one of the meetings, where I am explaining the
model showing the open office plan.
PM: Do you remember how that meeting went? FKB: Yes. We met every month. I got invited because Frazar said, "I
want a second opinion, other than Bunshaft's." [Laughs.] This was for
the interiors. Frazar came up to see me once at 575 Madison, and, again,
Hans's office was a great sales tool. He tripped over my dog on the way
in and said, "Any woman who has an Old English Sheepdog can't be all
bad." It was very amusing. Frazar was a tremendous organizer.
PM: As you know, Connecticut General is being threatened with demolition
by its present owners. FKB: That's what happens to corporations when they get bigger and bigger,
and get sold and resold. It's sad that they're doing it, but I really don't
know too much about it.
PM: Over the years you worked with some great clients--the Nelson Rockefeller
Foundation, Frank Stanton of CBS, and Frazar Wilde. FKB: I was fortunate to have good clients. The success of a good project
depends upon the compatibility of client and designer.
PM: Another thing that stood out in the archive was your 1985 antibillboard
campaign in Miami. FKB: I got an ulcer doing that one.
PM: To me that was the only time in the archive that I sensed anger in you. FKB: We got a law passed that reduced the number of billboards. But now
it's starting all over again.
PM: Didn't you recently speak at the city council about the same issue? FKB: No, I got someone else who's much better doing it, someone well known
to them. The billboard issue is up in the air right now. It's gone to the
state legislature in Tallahassee. I just finished working with my assistant
to get the word out.
PM: What do you think of the situation this time around? FKB: Heaven only knows. It may be up to Governor Bush to veto the bill allowing
the billboard industry unlimited access to our highways and cities. This
is just one shot, but it's so important because all they want to do is put
up more and bigger billboards--they want 950-square-foot billboards.
PM: In New York it's a problem, of course. I feel that maybe in Times Square
it's fine. FKB: Confining to an area like Times Square is acceptable as a "show,"
but using our cities and highways for their purpose is aesthetically horrible
and dangerous.
PM: One of the things I loved from the archive was the letter from Charles
and Ray Eames when you got married to Hood Bassett. FKB: Weren't they nice? I included a varied mix of letters from professionals
to unlikely ones from Indira Gandhi, Nancy Reagan, and a small boy who wants
to be an architect. My life wasn't just design. I've had an extraordinary
life when you think about it. Growing up at Cranbrook, living as part of
the Saarinen family.
PM: I loved the way you ended the book with the picture of you and Hood. FKB: I experienced a new and extended life when I married
Hood, as well as continuing my work in the design world. He
was a banker, a rancher in Florida, a dairy farmer in
Vermont, and a pilot. We had an interesting life.
PM: Mrs. Bassett, I want to thank you for speaking to me. FKB: Oh, you can call me Shu. I know when people call me Florence, I know
they don't know who I am. I don't remember how I got the nickname Shu, but
you can call me Shu.
Many thanks to Nina Rappaport, Judith Arango, Lauren Cadmus, Al Pfeiffer,
Lee Ewing, Liza Kirwin, Anne Bayly, Wendy Hurlock, Catherine Lynn, and Florence
Knoll Bassett for help in making this special feature possible.