Buildings are the repositories of our history. People drive to a building, point, and say, “That is where I went to elementary school,” and the story of a life begins. Through one house, the House on Elm Street, Stockbridge, a huge piece of history can be told.
The house is 109 years old. Moreover, except for the absence of the awnings, the house stands, in excellent condition, looking just as it always did. Today, two sisters in their 90s wish to honor their father by placing the house he built on the National Register of Historic Places.
Placement on the National Register depends on satisfying at least one of many criteria:
- It is older than 50 years.
- The property embodies distinctive characteristics, is the work of a master, possesses high artistic value.
- The property is associated with the lives of persons significant in our past.
- The property is associated with events that made a significant contribution to our history.
It is possible that The Joseph Franz House satisfies all four?
Architectural characteristics
The house was built in 1915. It is of wood and stucco and falls into a category called “carpenter built.” It is neither the work of a master, nor does it possess high artistic value. It is, however, of architectural interest for its unique characteristics.
In 1920, only one percent of U.S. homes had both electricity and indoor plumbing. Department of Commerce studies, published in the 1930s and 1940s, found that city houses were equipped with both years before houses in the countryside. Yet a house in Stockbridge—arguably a country house—had both. The house on Elm Street also had central steam heat as well as insulation provided by dead-air space. Who built this very comfortable and 20th-century “smart house” of the early 20th century?
A significant person
The house on Elm Street was built by an immigrant. Joseph Franz was born in Germany in 1882. He arrived in this country in 1897 at age 15. His daughters call him a Renaissance Man, and not without cause.
In the book about her father Joseph Franz, author Jo Franz Humphries writes, “electrical engineer, inventor, artist, architect, local politician, and philanthropist.”
Daughter Shirley Franz Miller, taking the lead on placement on the National Register, is still stung by townsfolk being upset that a “damn foreigner” built the lovely house and commercial block next door.
Nonetheless, her father was a member of the Stockbridge Select Board and the Berkshire Symphonic Festival (BSF) board. It was to Franz that BSF, what would become the Tanglewood Music Festival, turned when they had a big problem.
It was 1937, after a severe thunderstorm, and the Boston Symphony Orchestra (BSO) wanted an indoor space, or at least a covered space, in which to perform.
Under the leadership of Gertrude Robinson Smith, the BSF raised $47,973 in cash and $29,208 in pledges to build a permanent stage for the festival. They hired renowned architect Eero Saarinen to design a music pavilion. Unfortunately, his estimate was $232,000. Within days, another letter arrived: The BSO stated emphatically, “our corporation cannot permit the conductor and orchestra to take the risk under any circumstances of again attempting to give concerts in a tent.” The BSF was in a very serious position. If they did not provide the building, their contract with BSO was voided, and they were effectively out of the summer concert business. On the other hand, they did not have the money to build Saarinen’s pavilion.
BSF board member (and Stockbridge town selectman) Joseph Franz studied the plans and suggested a number of ways to save costs. Franz discussed the changes with Saarinen, who responded, “under no conditions will I give my approval … and if the committee decides to do so, I quit.” It was December 9, 1937, and it was, almost, the end of the BSF.
Franz thought he could, with the $77,181 on hand and the time available, construct a building. In a unanimous vote, BSF hired Franz as the construction engineer for a $1,000 fee. Franz was instructed to obtain bids for construction and consult an acoustical engineer.
In order to obtain bids, plans were necessary. While Saarinen allowed the BSF to “use my plans,” they were not useful. Franz had to create working drawings in sufficient detail on which bids could be based. He also had to alter Saarinen’s plans to meet the budget.
Franz used the fan shape suggested by Saarinen, but Franz widened it. Franz agreed with Saarinen and intended to put the shed exactly where he had advised. However, once the men were on the ground working, Franz noticed something, the sounds of the men working echoed. The cause of the echo was unclear, but an echo was not desirable in a concert hall. Franz walked the field until he found a place where the echo disappeared, and so the shed was built about 50 feet from the Saarinen site.
Furthermore, the gleaming white structure Saarinen wished to build stood out from the land, formal and enclosed. What Franz built was open and the colors of a Berkshire autumn. Saarinen’s pavilion was an architectural statement; Franz’s shed was a mute witness, part of the landscape.
Why was it called “the shed”? Frankly, we do not know for sure, but in one of his many fits of peak, Saarinen said, “for the money you have, you can only build a shed.” Well, in budget and on time, Franz did build the Shed at Tanglewood and saved the music festival.
And that is not all. Franz also built Laura’s Tower and the theater at Jacob’s Pillow—all sound and built to this day.
Events on the property
There may have been many. As a Select Board and BSF board member, Franz may have had meetings and welcomed important locals. Franz was the man who electrified Lenox and Stockbridge and insisted wires be buried so no poles and overhead wires spoiled the look of certain local roads. It adds substantially to the charm and beauty of the area.
There was also a garden party at the Joseph Franz House on Elm Street. It celebrated completion of the theater at Jacob’s Pillow and included guests such as BSO Conductor Serge Koussevitzky.
We can tell the stories of culture in the country, progress in domestic architecture, and municipal facilities through the story of Joseph Franz and his house on Elm Street Stockbridge.
