Allen Friedman House in Bannockburn
In May of 2001 when I was fully into my Frank Lloyd Wright obsession (now I’m just a recovering addict), I traveled to suburban Bannockburn to check out one of his homes that was threatened with demolition despite being in excellent condition. Tucked down a private street full of oak trees and native prairie grass, I was surprised by its modest size especially compared to its McMansion neighbors. It didn’t take long for me to guess this was the reason why some buyers viewed the home as a potential tear down. McMansions were then at the height of their popularity. A nearby resident said the Wright home was “expendable” and had a “dated” look.
Call it serendipity if you like but my visit happened to be at the exact same moment the original owner of the home, Allen Friedman, was giving a personal tour to a friend. Then 84-years-old and still working as a floor salesman in the furniture department at Carson, Pirie Scott, Friedman was surprised by some of the changes to the structure he had built 41 years earlier. He also couldn’t get over the property’s overgrown lot, saying it was a disgrace. I took some photos of him as he talked about it, and he even signed my Wright Field Guide.
Friedman wished he never sold it back in 1976, blaming his wife who said it was more house than they needed at the time, especially with their three children gone. “It is a beautiful home, a true masterpiece that holds treasures inside and out,” he said. “It would be criminal to tear it down.” Fortunately, like most vulnerable Wright buildings, a savior was found a few months later after the proposed demolition received national attention. The Frank Lloyd Building Conservancy was responsible for this happy ending. One of the legacies of this shocking incident was the village of Bannockburn passed a law that required a 120-day waiting period for anyone applying for a demolition permit. Friedman died eight years after his home was saved.
Friedman was a successful steel salesman who had always wanted to be an architect when he contacted Wright to design his house around 1957. Anyone familiar with Wright should not be surprised to learn it would take the Friedmans several years to get the project off the ground and running. The process involved a long correspondence where Wright interviewed his prospective clients for the job. The architect also studied topographical surveys of the original 10-acre property. They received the final plan revisions just before Wright died at the age of 91 in April of 1959. The Friedman House is considered to be last design executed by Wright. Friedman recalled in an interview, "I was driving on Lake Shore Drive and -- I'll never forget this -- I heard the news that he died on the radio. I almost drove into the lake. Fortunately for me, he'd already designated one of his disciples, Jesse ‘Cary’ Caraway, to pilot the job, which he did in a very competent manner." Taliesin Associated Architects supervised construction of Wright’s final design, and it was completed in 1960.
Friedman’s “dream house” as he liked to call it is a Usonian design of cypress and red brick with 850 feet of striking blue-green copper facia along the roofline. Geometric patterns are found in the windows underneath. The sprawling one-story home is Y-shape in plan with a four-bedroom wing facing north while the living room is on the other side looking southwest.
A low 85-ft-long brick wall divides the living and dining rooms. The carport with walkway extends from the entry area and workspace, which includes a kitchen with a generous skylight. The mahogany built-in furniture was designed by Wright, including seating, beds, tables, and drawers. Like most Usonian designs, all one sees from the street is brick while the “private” side is completely open with floor-to-ceiling glass windows. The views look over a natural prairie. Friedman’s daughter Adrienne remembers it being the home’s best feature, “You’d wake up and see deer nuzzling the window or a fox crossing the yard. It made me very aware of nature at an early age.” Wright would’ve been happy with this comment as he always tried to build forms that were more natural than nature itself, which is why he referred to his work as organic architecture.
Unfortunately the ground-hugging structure went against the trends of the early 2000s when over-sized McMansions were being built all over the suburbs, many of them replacing smaller, historic residences. Although I’m happy the Friedman House was saved, I just wish all threatened buildings of architectural significance could receive the same amount of attention as it did. I think back to all lost structures of the last twenty years, especially the ones associated with Wright’s former colleagues in the Prairie School. John Van Bergen. Robert C. Spencer. Walter Burley Griffin and Marion Mahony Griffin. Their work deserved to be saved too.