For his critics and biographers, the 1930s have always been the most challenging period of Frank Lloyd Wright's career. This account uses the architect's long-inaccessable archives at Taliesin West to provide a balanced evaluation of Wright in the 1930s. It separates Wright's design activities from his self-promotion and places his philosophy of individualism within the context of the times.

An “immensely valuable” dual biography of the iconic American architect and the city that transformed his career in the early twentieth century (Francis Morrone, New Criterion). Frank Lloyd Wright took his first major trip to New York in 1909, fleeing a failed marriage and artistic stagnation. He returned a decade later, his personal life and architectural career again in crisis. Booming 1920s New York served as a refuge, but it also challenged him and resurrected his career. The city connected Wright with important clients and commissions that would harness his creative energy and define his role in modern architecture, even as the stock market crash took its toll on his benefactors. Anthony Alofsin has broken new ground by mining the Wright archives held by Columbia University and the Museum of Modern Art. His foundational research provides a crucial and innovative understanding of Wright’s life, his career, and the conditions that enabled his success. The result is at once a stunning biography and a glittering portrait of early twentieth-century Manhattan.

In architectural terms, the twentieth century can be largely summed up with two names: Frank Lloyd Wright and Philip Johnson. Wright (1867–1959) began it with his romantic prairie style; Johnson (1906–2005) brought down the curtain with his spare postmodernist experiments. Between them, they built some of the most admired and discussed buildings in American history. Differing radically in their views on architecture, Wright and Johnson shared a restless creativity, enormous charisma, and an outspokenness that made each man irresistible to the media. Often publicly at odds, they were the twentieth century's flint and steel; their repeated encounters consistently set off sparks. Yet as acclaimed historian Hugh Howard shows, their rivalry was also a fruitful artistic conversation, one that yielded new directions for both men. It was not despite but rather because of their contentious--and not always admiring--relationship that they were able so powerfully to influence history. In Architecture's Odd Couple, Howard deftly traces the historical threads connecting the two men and offers readers a distinct perspective on the era they so enlivened with their designs. Featuring many of the structures that defined modern space--from Fallingwater to the Guggenheim, from the Glass House to the Seagram Building--this book presents an arresting portrait of modern architecture's odd couple and how they shaped the American landscape by shaping each other.

New definition to the little-known work Wright produced during this period, which he describes as Wright's primitivist phase. He traces this influence in his art through Wright's explorations of primitivist sources, innovations in sculpture, and an intensification of the architect's use of ornament. Less tangible, but as important, was Wright's view of himself, his art, and society, and Alofsin uncovers the European impact on the architect's image of himself as a.

Long before designing his signature Usonian houses, Frank Lloyd Wright envisioned an earlier series of affordable models for the middle class: The American System-Built Homes. He developed seven floorplans of varying size and layout, standardized so that materials could be precut at the factory to reduce costs. Only a few years after the project began, the United States entered World War I, and all home construction was stalled due to lumber shortages. Wright then turned his attention to other projects, and with fewer than twenty built, the American System-Built Homes were all but forgotten.In 2011, Jason Loper and Michael Schreiber purchased the only American System-Built Home constructed in Iowa, the Meier House, which set them on a course of refurbishing and researching their new residence. In This American House, Loper and Schreiber trace the history of the Meier House through its previous owners, and shed light on this underexplored period of Wright's oeuvre. With a preface by John H. Waters, the Preservation Programs Manager of the Frank Lloyd Wright Building Conservancy, This American House addresses what it means to be the stewards of a piece of history.