A story of a Frank Lloyd Wright Residence in the 21^st Century

THE TENT

Demolition began around Thanksgiving 1995.  The fire happened in, 1994.  We were at last underway. The Buehlers were anxious to have their house back.  Demolition went well and though there was some rain, we were working on a concrete slab and were able to erect some temporary tent off the remaining structures of the house.  However, when the slab was gone and we were down to bare dirt, the rain started to have a significant effect on progress.

During the planning we had discussed creating a tent over the building area so that we could proceed unimpeded through the winter.  We looked into renting a tent.  The $15K or so was more than Maynard wanted to spend.  Possibilities of building or buying one on our own had been kicked around but not in such a way as to lead to any action.

The rain seemed never to lift and the mud got deeper and more impossible.  Plans called for deep piers and extensive excavations.  The equipment operators were unable to proceed.  Maynard was becoming increasingly impatient with my constant refrain to his query about progress.  “Maynard, I’m sorry.  We’re held up by the rain.  We need a week of dry time before we can drill the piers and excavate the deep forms”.

One day I came to work and Tiger showed up with a few hundred feet of wire cable that he started to string above a portion of the job site.  Tiger, whose real name was Larry, was a former son-in-law who Maynard kept on as a general maintenance person for his garden, house, and shop.  He was a resourceful guy and generally good to have around.  I asked what he was up to.  “Maynard wants me to put up a tent.”  I asked the details.  I didn’t think much of them or the likelihood of them resulting in a successful outcome.  It could create problems for me.  I told him to hold off.

I let Maynard know that I stopped Larry and that I was looking into erecting a tent.  Maynard was not pleased.  I later learned he was interviewing other contractors and was ready to fire me.  Betty Olds called and said that Maynard was frustrated by the lack of progress.  I repeated my refrain about the impossibility of the weather.  The combination of Larry showing up with a hank of cable, Betty’s phone call and my reflection on the two life-size figures in the garden, one of China’s first general and the other of its first emperor, helped me realize that Maynard wanted action, not excuses. It had taken a bit, but I finally got the message.  Action there would be.

I returned from the job site to my office.  Tom Lawrence, a recent architecture graduate and a friend of my eldest son Matthew, since before kindergarten, was in the office.  He was working with my company fulfilling some of his practicum requirements for his license.  I showed Tom a site plan and told him we needed to erect a tent over the entire site, a tent that would last until the exterior dry redwood and roof were complete.  It would need to last through the coming winter.  I was a good rigger and said there were enough trees and structure for me to get a cable down the middle of the site, high enough to easily clear the yet to be built house.

Tom suggested a design with 30 foot steel studs, crossing as rafters on the cable serving as a ridgeline.  The rafters could be used to support a plastic canapé.  If the rafters could extend beyond the ridgeline, the plastic could also extend beyond the ridgeline on one side.  This would work as a large open vent all along the ridgeline, which would allow the wind to escape out the roof without blowing the tent to pieces.  The plan was simple and elegant.

I took Tom’s sketches by Walter and he thought the idea had merit.  That’s as much endorsement as he would give.  I asked Cregg and another of my most senior and resourceful employees, Neil Burmester, to meet me at the shop that evening.  One of my principle problem solving strategies is to immerse myself in a physical place rich in possible solutions: a refrigerator if the problem is a snack or a shop if the problem is rigging a tent.  I shared with my men the problem of the tent.  I had already figured we’d have to erect a tall large post in the area that would eventually have a new concrete slab.  We could not have the temporary post penetrate a finished slab.  A couple of Simpson Strong Tie hold-downs and some all-thread suggested a solution.  Drive the all-thread into the ground and use the hold-downs to attach the post to the all-thread without the post having to touch the ground.  Pour the finished concrete slab around the all-thread and after the post is no longer needed, drive the all-thread into the ground and patch the remaining holes in the slab.  (In the end, it was not possible to drive the all thread through the concrete slab.  Today you can see the two pieces of all-tread cut flush with the concrete floor of the master bedroom up against the original concrete block wall of the carport.  This was the location of the main tent post. )

Another problem was how to have the cable run over the top of the posts and anchor to another site, like a tree.  If the cable attached to the post itself, it would pull the post over.  An upside down Simpson Strong Tie post base bolted to the top of the post would work.  A hole in the bottom (now top) of the post base could be used to clip on a block (pulley) though which the cable could run.  While my employees gathered up materials in the shop for next day’s erection of the tent, I went to shop at REI for rigging slings, snaps, blocks and the like.

There were many other problems such as where to anchor the cable, how to keep the sides of the tent high enough to build the house under it, how to attach the plastic to the rafters in a way that could last the winter and how to actually erect the tent.  A bit of patience and brainstorming and the problems were solved.  The tent was erected through days of endless and sometimes fierce rain. I was up in the trees, and on the ground setting rigging.  Within a few days we had erected a grand tent of clear plastic over the entire building site.  Construction could proceed without worrying about the weather.  Maynard was from that point on a true partner in our endeavor to put him and Katie back in their FLW house.

Keith R. Alward
August, 2011

A story of a Frank Lloyd Wright Residence in the 21^st Century

THE AGREEMENT

Plans continued to be developed for the new house, but I was left out of the loop.  I suppose a settlement with the insurance company had been accepted, but I was not in the know one way or the other.  Many months after I was first introduced to the Buehlers, Walter called and wanted to know if I was willing to give a bid for the new plans he was finishing.  Work by the soils engineer, Joe Provinsano, the structural engineer, Jerold Turner, and the architect of record, William Simpson were now complete.  Van-Catlin Construction and Canyon Construction were giving bids.  They would be happy to have one from Alward Construction or if I wished to withdraw, there were plenty of other contractors willing to give bids. 

I wasn’t sure what part Walter had in the final plans.  The drawings were all in the style of Simpson’s office.  I could only imaging that as the project unfolded, there would be a stream of Walter’s drawings detailing all of the matters only hinted at in the bid set.  How could this be bid?  The real drawings for the project were yet to be produced.  I decided to stay the course and said that I would love to be the Buehler’s contractor but they would have to select me on something other than price.  I was not going to give a bid.  Looking back on this, I think my reluctance was largely a factor of inexperience with the business world, but at the time it seemed a matter of common sense.

However, I was not as sure as I might have seemed.  I talked with a number of people including Deva Rejan of Canyon Construction.  Even though he was giving a bid, he understood and supported my position.  Maybe he was hoping my position would eliminate me.  In any case, his assertions that I should really be the contractor because “I was probably the only one who could manage those old coots,” was reassuring.

The end of the bid period was fast approaching.  I got a phone call from Betty Olds saying that Maynard had a number of bids, including a third party, and was still awaiting one from me.  Cregg Sweeney, my employee, had been working on Walter and Betty’s house for a few years now and had virtually become Walter’s apprentice.  I asked Cregg to sit down with me and to see if we could generate a number.  We wanted to come up with something close to the $800K which we thought, for truly unsubstantiated reasons, was the likely settlement with the insurance company.  We produced a number broken into line items and said we were ready with a bid.  I turned it in but still insisted that this was a budget not a bid and that a bid did not make any sense and would not be good for either of us.

I got a call from Walter saying Maynard was about ready to make a decision but was not happy with my position.  He was willing to meet with me for the last time.  A date was set.  Just before the meeting, I talked with my friend, Gordon Bermak, a practicing psychoanalysis.  Gordon said that I had failed to convey to Maynard that he could trust me as his contractor.  There was no hocus-pocus, just the straight fact that I needed to let him know he could trust me.

Maynard and I met at the appointed time.  After some brief niceties, it was time to be serious.  We were out by the Koi pond.  Maynard asked how Time and Material contracting would work.  I said I would bill time on the job at our hourly rate and add 20% to my direct non-labor costs.  He wondered how long I thought the project would take.  I said, “about a year.”  “So you still won’t give me a price?”  he asked.  I replied that I had explained myself about as well as I could.  He said, “Well, I guess it gets down to trust and crazy as it seems, I’m trusting you to do the project.  I guess we should have some kind of agreement.”  I asked if he’d like a contract.  “Not a contract, I hate that word.  Just a letter of agreement.  And make it short.  I don’t trust a letter longer than a page.”  I asked when he wanted it.  “This afternoon would be fine.  And I’d like you to consider putting in the agreement that after a year, your markup will be 10%.”  We had an agreement.

Keith R. Alward
August, 2011

A story of a Frank Lloyd Wright Residence in the 21^st Century

THE PRICE

Maynard understood my reluctance to give him a price for replacing the lost house.  After all, it wouldn’t be a very meaningful number since the house as it existed wasn’t going to be rebuilt.  But a bid for a new house seemed a reasonable request.  Walter and Maynard both wanted to know if I would give a price for the new house once the plans were far enough along.  I really preferred working on a Time and Materials basis without a fixed price and thought this project really called for that approach.  I would have to wait to propose this.

The day of my second visit to the house was the day the issue of a fixed price first came up.  It was also the day Walter brought out two new sets of drawings.  One was a drawing with lots of details on how the new house would have a rain water leader system to handle roof water.  In the original house, Wright had drop outlets (gutter pipes) that penetrated the wide overhanging eves.  Water from the roof drained through the drop outlets and splashed onto the concrete walks below.  Wright liked the sound of the water on the pavement.  However, after years of having water splashing on their pants and dresses, Maynard extended the drop outlets so they drained into the plant beds beyond the walks.

The visual effect was that every 12 feet or so there was a pipe coming out of the overhanging eves making a right angle to the drop outlet and extending out horizontally for a foot or so.  Walter carefully explained to Maynard how the new system would divert water to pipes in the inside of the new walls, thus eliminating the need for the improvised extensions.  As always, the drawings were complete and masterful with lots of ½ full scale details.  Everything was thought out.  However, in the dismissive sweep of his arm, Maynard declared that he wouldn’t need this expensive detailing; that the present arrangement would work perfectly well for the new home.

Walter turned rigid and all enthusiasm and pleasantness left him.  “I always understood that you weren’t happy with the way the roof drained Maynard.” Maynard seemed totally unconscious of Walters change in mood.  It was an uncomfortable moment.  I tried to help by infusing a bit of humor.  I suggested that the present drains, and there was one immediately in front of us as we talked, looked a little like cannons under a fighter plane wing.  I might have been unconsciously drawing on Maynard’s interest in guns.  He responded enthusiastically.  “Yes, 30 millimeters on a Hellcat.”  He didn’t see or want to acknowledge my point and the matter was dropped.  (in the end, the RWL were placed inside the walls and the drop outlets and their extensions were no longer part of the new house although they remain in the original house.)

The second drawing concerned changes in the elevations from the exterior walkways to the interior slab.  As with all Usonian houses, the Buehler House was built on a slab, the same slab with the same elevations for both indoors and outdoors.

Walter’s new plan showed about a 5/8 inch difference in elevation.  Again ½ full scale details showed how this would work at doorways and exterior walls.  And also again, Walter’s plans were rejected.  Maynard said “Walt, I don’t want a step to trip over.  Just make it all the same like it is.”  Walter reminded him how over the years he’d complained that this was an impractical detail on Wright’s part; that it allowed water to enter under the doors and also discolored the lovely exterior redwood walls that came right down to the top of the wet slab.  “We’ve lived with it 50 years Walt.  The rain comes in, the rain goes out.  I suppose we can live a few more years with it.”  Maynard seldom second guessed himself.  He had spoken his mind and that was it.

This was not a successful afternoon for Walter.  Not only had his two drawings been rejected by his client, but the contractor he had recommended to produce a bid for the insurance company, i.e., me, had refused to do so.  Perhaps the day could be reclaimed if I would concede to giving a bid for the new house when the plans were complete.

I was asked whether in fact, they could expect a bid from me.  I thought a fixed price on the job was not a good idea, at least not good for me.  It seemed that the events of the afternoon were very much to the point and I thought I might as well bite the bullet and share my sentiments.

I said, “You know, in the last hour or so, I’ve watched Walter present his ideas for your new house and I’ve watched you reject them.  I suspect this house will be going through revision throughout its construction and that if you want something changed, it’ll be changed.  I don’t think you can expect someone else to tell you what this project will cost.  You’ll get the best insurance settlement working with Van-Catlin and then the new house will cost what you want it to cost.  I can give you a budget which really will be whatever Van-Catlin comes up with, but I can’t give you a fixed price because I know whatever plans you come up with will change.”

Walter and Maynard stared at me in disbelief.  Shortly, Maynard put his position on the table.  “When the plans are done, I’ll look forward to knowing what you will charge me to build it.”  I put my position on the table.  “Nobody knows what this project will cost until it’s completed.  I can give you choices but the decisions will be yours.”  Walter and I drove home in silence.

Keith R. Alward
August, 2011

A story of a Frank Lloyd Wright Residence in the 21^st Century

BACKGROUND

An architect recently confessed to struggling with how to promote Alward Construction over smaller contractors with less overhead.  They referred clients to contractors who had worked successfully for other clients.  While these contractors did not have our reputation, their work and service were both quite acceptable.  They had smaller companies with less overhead and were assumed to be less expensive. 

This is the first challenge for marketing.  What distinguishes us from our competition? 

I want to address this in an ongoing series of short articles all focused on Frank Lloyd Wright’s Buehler House, which Alward Construction rebuilt and restored for the original owners, Maynard and Katie Buehler.  It was designed by Wright for our clients and originally built in 1949.  It sustained a serious fire in 1994 and we rebuilt it with the guidance of the original Clerk of the Works, Walter Olds, who Wright assigned to the project in 1948.  This was a rich experience on many counts and there were numerous ways in which my company showed itself to provide special value to our client.  I’m hoping some of the following not only tell about the wonderful detailing and construction of a Wright residence, but also how, in working with the entire building team, Alward Construction made its own valuable contributions to the project.

The recent public opening of the Buehler House held by the Frank Lloyd Wright Building Conservancy, July 30-31, 2011, was very successful.   What was billed as a one day event was extended to two and even at that, hundreds were turned away.  I gave my own tour of the house for select guests and have been encouraged to tell some stories of our rebuilding of the house after its 1994 fire.

First some brief background.  In 1948, when Wright was 81, he was hired by Maynard and Katie Buehler who had bought a lot off a remote dirt road (now the North East corner of Glorietta and Moraga Way in Orinda California) that was situated between two meandering creeks.  A horse stable stood on the site.  After deciding against a two-story design by a local architect, Katie and Maynard decided to write and send pictures to Wright who had recently been featured in a magazine they came across.  Wright saw the pictures of the site and wrote to the Buehlers a one sentence letter saying, “I’m ready to work for you.” 

To oversee the construction, he asked his apprentice of many years, Walter Olds, to leave his position as Clerk of the Works on the Walker House in Carmel, and turn his attention to the Buehler House in Orinda.  Walter had already completed the famous Morris Gift Shop on Maiden Lane in San Francisco.  Maynard and Walter hired and fired two contractors.  They eventually settled on being their own contractor.  They hired the talent they needed for different phases of the project.  A lovely 4,350 square foot three bedroom residence was built with a study and a complete wing devoted to Maynard’s avocation and hobby as a machinist and inventor.  The machine shop had its own office and a small bedroom for live-in help that was never used as such.  The house was one of Wright’s Usonian style residences which was a style of architecture he hoped would be widely adapted by everyday citizens of the United States of America; US-‘onian’.  The first Usonian was built around 1938 a little after Falling Water.

The Buehlers raised two daughters in the house.  Early in its history, at Wright’s strong suggestion, the Buehlers bought up the surrounding lots to avoid, as Wright put it, “looking out on your neighbor’s clothes lines”.  Sometime in the 1950s, Walter was hired to design a garden house that could serve as a pool house, guesthouse and a cabaña.   Later the swimming pool, cradled in the nock of the two wings of the house, was converted to a koi pond and the 2 ½ acres of land was transformed into an incredible garden with water falls, pagodas, a Japanese tea house, bridges, life size statues of Chinese figures, a rock river.  All this was designed by Henry Matsitani who had been the landscape architect of the Japanese Gardens in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park.  Henry had studied in the Japanese Imperial Gardens of Tokyo.  

Katie Buehler was a tall thin women and prone to being chilly.  The radiant heating in the house was not sufficient and Maynard, ever the inventor, devised an electrical heat system composed of wires that ran in the horizontal groves of the concrete block walls.  A failure in this system caused the fire in 1994 that resulted in the loss of most of the main residential wing.  A pet poodle was lost, years of possessions including many original Wright memorabilia and the original house plans went up in smoke.  Both Maynard and Katie were out of the house at the time of the fire.  As Katie said “it was not one of my better days”.

THREE BIDS FOR THE INSURANCE COMPANY

Walter lived in Berkeley with his wife Betty and had retired as an architect from Skidmore Owings and Merrill.  Maynard called him and said, “Well Walter you figured this all out in 1948, I don’t see why you can’t figure it out now.”   At that time I was working on Walter’s and Betty’s house.  I had been Walter’s contractor for some time before I knew of his work with Wright.  It was mentioned to me that a Wright house Walter had worked on in Orinda had a fire.  The likelihood that I would be involved in its repair was not even hinted at and it was some time before the prospect came up.  Maynard had hired William Simpson of Orinda to be the architect of record and Walter was to be the supervising architect.  Simpson, in turn, had suggested Ed Van of Van-Catlin to develop a budget for rebuilding the house.  They had been successful in estimating losses for homeowners in the Oakland Hills 1991 fire and had already put weeks and weeks of effort into establishing the cost for rebuilding this Usonian house and restoring the fire damaged portions that were to remain.  I assumed, without really knowing, that they were being paid for their efforts.  I also assumed they were likely to be the builders.  However, the insurance company suddenly said they needed 3 bids for rebuilding the house.  It was under this circumstance that I was asked by Walter if I would be interested in giving a bid for rebuilding the house.  Walter and I had forged a relationship of sorts and I was pleased to be able to work with him on another project.  The fact that it was a Frank Lloyd Wright project was intriguing but I didn’t really know much about Wright’s work.

I met with Walter at the site.  While I knew this was a Wright building, I was not particularly impressed.  Most of what was left did not strike me as a noteworthy building.  The shop wing and carport that had not been destroyed seemed like a fairly utilitarian construction largely of grey concrete block.  The living room was unique with its soaring pitched roof, but it was so affected by fire that it seemed sad and forlorn and hardly a thing of beauty.  The site was smelly and filled with the debris of a burn out home.  It was not a pretty sight.

I was also introduced to the Buehler’s.  Katie was quite a figure.  She was as tall as a rail and elegantly dressed.  She had a very dramatic pair of glasses that accented her strong features and perfectly quaffed hair.  Maynard looked like a Bavarian beer hall owner but with a decidedly sterner demeanor.  The large bore rifles above his mantel in his office tended to reinforce the idea that the man was not to be taken lightly.  I realized as I briefly surveyed the charred remains of this uniquely built house that there was a lot of work to do before I would have any sense of the cost to rebuild it.  I also realized that becoming a contractor for Maynard would not be an easy matter, regardless of how the estimating proceeds. 

I knew Canyon Construction was also being considered.  Simpson had probably recommended them along with Van-Catlin.  I recall driving up Marin Ave in Albany when I called Deva Rajan, owner of Canyon, and asked him if he thought Maynard would commit to hiring one of us for his project based on this estimate that we were suppose to produce.  He replied that “Maynard was too sharp an old fox to ever do something like that.”  I was still somewhat new to the business-end of construction and did most of my work on a time and materials basis without a contract.  I very seldom did fixed price work and didn’t really appreciate the subtleties of negotiating contracts and bids.  Indeed, why would Maynard commit to selecting someone to build something that had not yet been designed, based on their price for something that had been destroyed by fire and would never again see the light of day?  The new house was under development by Maynard, Simpson, Walter and the engineers.   The fact that Maynard would never allow himself to be caught in such a situation was an eye opener to me.

It was the first time I realized the importance of strategy in business.  Along these lines, I realized that getting three bids was not good for anyone but the insurance company.  Van-Catlin had the best idea of the actual costs and the result of two other bidders would simple be to secure less money for the Buehlers.  As for the contractors, we would simple put a lot of effort into something that may or may not result in work. 

On the next visit to the house, I explained this to Maynard and Walter and said I was with drawing from the bid process because it served no purpose beyond saving the insurance company money.  This turned out to be an eye opener for Maynard as well and I believe it was the beginning of a relationship that eventually turned out to be deep, trusting and respectful.

Keith R. Alward
August, 2011