Frank Lloyd Wright 'eyesore' now treasured by Chicagoans

0 Comments | Oakland Tribune, Jun 8, 2003 | by Eric Noland

LOS ANGELES DAILY NEWS

TO the neighbors, it was an eyesore. An abomination.

It was just like Frank Lloyd Wright to think so far outside the box -- in this case the boxy, Gothic manors that lined up in stately formation in Chicago's Hyde Park at the turn of the 20th century.

A residence that has come to be known as the Robie House -- named for the original owner -- was a culmination of Wright's Prairie Style of architecture. And what a scandal it must have been when it was completed in 1910.

A low-pitch roof cantilevers over dozens of odd-size balconies. The front door is hidden, reached essentially down a side alley. Rooms radiate out from a central fireplace. Thin bricks are laid in a manner so as to highlight a stretched-out, horizontal aspect. The living room is on the second floor, for goodness sake.

"Hyde Park was high society at that time," tour guide Rena Christofidis said of the University of Chicago neighborhood, south of downtown. "The neighbors hated this."

The Robie House endured, though, not only the disdain of Chicago's most influential people but several other indignities over the course of its life.

It was used as a dormitory and dining hall for the Chicago Theological Seminary from 1926 to 1959 and was nearly razed twice so that a more suitable dorm -- yes, a great big rectangular box -- could be built in its place. Wright, though in his 90s, raised such a stink that it was spared, and the subject of demolition was finally rendered moot when it was designated a National Historic Landmark in 1963.

The house is currently in the midst of a 10-year restoration that is expected to top $8 million in cost, but in the meantime it is open for guided tours.

The interior spaces provide the visitor with an understanding of Wright's meticulous attention to detail -- at least in terms of design (engineering integrity, alas, was not his strong suit).

The living room tapers into a boatlike prow. A split fireplace flue borrows space from the next room. Lighting is provided by both "sun" and "moon" fixtures -- the former a globe in a wood frame, the latter recessed behind panels. French doors and art-glass windows are beautifully crafted.

The dining room table was lit from within, though the severely high-backed chairs look like torture devices. (With Wright, Christofidis noted, "you got the furniture with the house, and he told you where everything was supposed to go.")

During my visit, the second-floor balconies that line an entire side of the house were draped in plastic. Yes, we were told, they were deteriorating -- a common byproduct of Wright's daring designs. Similarly, the roof is prone to leaks, and the original heating system, before it was modified by subsequent owners, could never seem to raise the interior temperature above 55 degrees in winter.

As the restoration process percolates along, it's amusing to note that the dormitory building that sought to replace it ultimately got built next door. It's a nondescript stucco box from the early 1960s.

In short, an abomination.

The Robie House is on the University of Chicago campus, at the corner of South Woodlawn Avenue and 58th Street. On weekends, guided tours are conducted every 15 minutes between 11 a.m. and 3:30 p.m. On weekdays, they're conducted at 11 a.m., 1 and 3 p.m. Cost is $9 for adults, $7 for kids and

seniors. A gift and book shop is

housed in the site's former garage.

Information: (708) 848-1976;

www.wrightplus.org