Laurence Frank was enjoying a quiet dinner at his brother’s home in San Mateo, Calif., one summer evening in 2022 when he got a call: His house was on fire.
Fortunately for Dr. Frank, the small blaze had been extinguished by the time he arrived at the scene. Unfortunately for the house, a 1939 design by Frank Lloyd Wright in Hillsborough, Calif., the fire department did so by sawing off the end of the roof.
An insurance adjuster stopped by a few days later to assess the damage, and Dr. Frank explained that the house was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, the pre-eminent 20th-century American architect.
“He had no idea what I was talking about,” said Dr. Frank, who grew up in the house and works as a wildlife biologist studying African carnivores. “At that point, I knew I was in trouble.”
He had reason to be worried. Finding a local contractor to conduct faithful repairs and source the right materials (say, rotary-cut redwood veneers) would be daunting. As would the bills.
For help, Dr. Frank turned to an organization that’s become something of a secret weapon for Wright residents in a jam: the Frank Lloyd Wright Building Conservancy.
The Chicago-based nonprofit is one of dozens of groups around the country devoted to preserving the architect’s legacy. Unlike most of those entities, the conservancy actively helps Wright owners — or “stewards,” as they are known internally — troubleshoot whatever maintenance issues their dwellings may face.
“We want to know what happened to the building when Wright left the room,” explained John H. Waters, a licensed architect who has served as the conservancy’s preservation programs director and de facto Wright house whisperer for a decade. “We were also set up to help support building stewards and to advocate for the buildings.”
Mr. Waters connected Dr. Frank to a Bay Area architect who had been involved with Wright’s work for decades, including the construction of the Wright-designed Marin County Civic Center. With the help of a local cabinetry specialist, the house was respectfully restored.
“I refer to myself as a matchmaker,” Mr. Waters said. “One of the things that we really try to do here at the conservancy is create a network and a place where people can come to find resources.”
During his seven-decade career, Wright, who died in 1959, designed more than 1,000 buildings and built more than 500 of them, including icons like the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York City, Fallingwater in Mill Run, Pa., and the Robie House in Chicago. Many people may be familiar with the greatest hits, but there are hundreds of lesser-known works scattered around the country, about 240 of which are privately owned residences, the conservancy estimates.
Owning a Wright original — the architecture buff’s equivalent of owning a Picasso — comes with a set of headaches that are as manifold as they are esoteric. There are hipped roofs to be waterproofed, dyed concrete to be replicated and period-appropriate stucco specialists to engage. “They’re finicky,” Mr. Waters said of the houses.
To address these hurdles — and, by extension, open a dialogue about how preservation and contemporary life can coexist — the conservancy has created an ecosystem in which its 730 members (72 of whom own Wright-designed homes) can swap advice, trade stories and build community.
There are annual Wright conferences. There’s an online message board. There are tours. And there is even a monthly closed-door, drop-in Zoom support session. (One recent meeting, titled “Spring Fever: Coexisting With Wildlife,” discussed the seasonal critters, like woodpeckers, skunks and carpenter bees, that can wreak havoc on Wright properties.)
“The way that I’ve characterized it is that we have found our support group with other homeowners,” said Patrick Schwarz, owner of the 120-year-old Mary Adams House in Highland Park, Ill.
“This is our place,” adds his husband, Bill Levy. “These are our people. When we hop on a Zoom and we see our friends, it’s lovely.”
Should homeowners get frustrated, though, there’s always Mr. Waters to call for a good kvetch. “I’m a shoulder to cry on,” he said.
There can be a lot to cry about. Here’s a list of some of the unexpected hurdles that can come up with a Wright-designed home.
Leaky Roofs
Frank Lloyd Wright is known for a lot of things, among them organic architecture, porkpie hats and philandering. He also gained a reputation, deserved or not, for leaky buildings.
Four years ago, Chris Enck and Martha Skup bought the Kathryn and Lloyd Lewis House in Mettawa, Ill., for around $415,000. The structure, built in 1939 for an editor of The Chicago Daily News, is an early example of Usonian design, a Wright philosophy that emphasized affordability, efficiency and unity with nature.
For Mr. Enck and his family, the home’s boundary with the natural world was a little too thin: The first day they spent there, water poured through the ceiling. “We put out some buckets and then figured, OK, roof repairs are something we need to think about sooner rather than later,” Mr. Enck said.
Patches have remedied the issue for the time being. Now, Mr. Enck is planning a comprehensive roof replacement, with the conservancy advising on different roofing solutions, like a modified bitumen system versus a liquid-applied membrane. “There’s been so much study on different restoration projects around the country over the years that it’s great to not have to reinvent the wheel,” Mr. Enck said.
Preservation Easements
Dreaming of life in a Frank Lloyd Wright house? The property may include a preservation easement — a voluntary legal arrangement between a property owner and a qualified organization to protect the home from alteration or demolition. The conservancy currently holds 26 preservation easements on Wright structures.
“Legally these are recorded with the deed,” explained Mr. Waters, who typically will inspect homes every one or two years to ensure they’re being maintained in accordance with the easement.
The terms of an easement are specific to the property and continue from owner to owner. They are also permanent. Nate Meyer bought the Goetsch-Winckler House, a 1940 Usonian in Okemos, Mich., for $500,0000 two years ago and learned that virtually everything on the site — from the bricks to the furniture to the trees — was protected by a preservation easement. An unusual stipulation in the terms even requires Mr. Meyer to open the building to the public at least four days per year.
Such conditions might spook prospective stewards. But Mr. Meyer said: “I am all for it. I want the home to be protected.”
Obsolete Materials
When a Detroit couple, Dale Morgan and Norman Silk, purchased the Dorothy G. Turkel House for around $375,000 in 2006, they knew they had a gem on their hands. The 1950s house was just one of seven Usonian “Automatic”-style houses ever built, so named for their affordability and ease of assembly.
The house was in such poor condition, though, that virtually everything required restoration — including the deteriorating custom concrete block that made up the house’s waffle-like facade. “Everything in this house is a custom item,” Mr. Morgan said. “Nothing came from a builder’s supply. It was a house of great style.”
A trip to Home Depot clearly wouldn’t cut it. Through the conservancy, Mr. Morgan and Mr. Silk were introduced to the architect Lawrence Brink, an original Wright apprentice. Mr. Brink was able to work with a contractor to create new molds and recast fresh concrete blocks. He also sourced a log of Philippine mahogany to mill into plywood for the restored kitchen cabinets, in keeping with the rest of the house.
Over the years, Mr. Morgan estimates, he and his partner have invested $1.5 million into the restoration. “A project like this is not for the faint of heart,” he said. “You just have to look at it and go, OK, it’s going to be a big adventure. Otherwise you’d have a nervous breakdown.”
Insurance
Extreme weather is driving a home insurance crisis in the United States. These conditions can make insuring historic homes, which insurers view as riskier properties, even more challenging. “It’s a real concern for our constituency,” Mr. Waters said.
Mr. Meyer, of the Goetsch-Winckler House, experienced this firsthand when he called his insurance company. “They asked me all these questions that just don’t apply to Wright homes — about the siding, the roof, everything,” he said. “We were able to come to an understanding of what coverage I needed, but then, what about the furniture?”
Many Wright stewards have turned to higher-end or specialty carriers like PURE, A.I.G. or Chubb, which specializes in safeguarding art and other valuables.
“Once you say the name Wright, insurance companies see dollar signs and get scared,” Dr. Schwarz said. “When we went to one homeowner drop-in on Zoom, I found out that we’re all dealing with the same issue. No wonder I feel like they’re my support group!”
Critters
Architecture aficionados aren’t the only ones who enjoy a rare Wright residence — wild animals do, too. Birds nest beneath Wright’s generous eaves, skunks burrow into foundations, and spiders spin webs on geometric architectural details. At the Kathryn and Lloyd Lewis House, marauding woodpeckers have drilled holes into the tidewater cypress siding in search of carpenter bees.
“It’s like, Why are you doing this?” Mr. Enck said. “This wood is very hard to find and expensive to replace, so that is super frustrating.”
To deal with nature’s nuisances while honoring Wright’s desire to embrace the environment, conservancy members have gotten creative. During a recent Zoom seminar, they swapped advice, which included planting gardens, tempting woodpeckers with suet cakes, and sticking decals or Post-it notes on broad expanses of glass to minimize bird collisions. Spiders, on the other hand, may face the wrath of a product called Miss Muffet’s Revenge.
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