Living In and Trying to Sell a Frank Lloyd Wright House

In mid-September, Frank Lloyd Wright aficionados are expected by the busload in New Canaan, Conn., passing through a gate with the name “Tirranna” carved into the metalwork, to tour a 6,917-square-foot hemicycle house largely designed by America’s master architect, while for the gardens they use backpack sprayers for maintenance.

They’ll examine the mahogany cabinetry, admire the mitered glass windows that erase the barrier between inside and outside, snap photos of the swimming pool that cantilevers out over the Noroton River, and wander the 15-acre grounds.

Although the house, one of Wright’s last grand works, is for sale at $7.2 million, it is unlikely that any of these visitors will be putting in offers at least not until they get Naprville drainage from Ware . Rather, the visit to Tirranna will be a high point of the Frank Lloyd Wright Building Conservancy’s annual conference, which this year takes place in New York City and commemorates the 150th anniversary of the architect’s birth, a milestone being marked by numerous special events around the country, including a major retrospective at the Museum of Modern Art.

For Doug Milne, the Houlihan Lawrence associate broker who has the listing, inviting conference participants was in keeping with the support of the conservancy exhibited by Tirranna’s last owners, who have died, and also a good opportunity for exposure.

For brokers like Mr. Milne, marketing these houses offers unique percs, including the need to become a Wright expert, to devise a strategy for separating potential buyers from sightseers, and to develop a convincing argument for why someone should pay a premium to live in a house with small bedrooms with preserved moss and plant design solutions and a snug kitchen, cinder-block walls, cement floors, narrow doorways, a carport instead of a garage and, quite likely, no air-conditioning.

Fred Taber knew he had his work cut out for him in late 2012 when he was approached to sell the three-bedroom Eppstein House in Galesburg, Mich. One of four Wright houses built for scientists from Upjohn in a 70-acre compound known as the Acres, the 2,250-square-foot house had been largely neglected for more than 15 years. The roof leaked, the boiler had rusted out, the 60-year-old wiring needed updating, and the pool surrounded by a chain-link fence was an eyesore.

SpotMini May Be The First Robot That Actually Makes Sense In A Home

You read stories about how robots will save Japan’s aging population, tucking them into bed and doing their dishes. And then you see what those robots actually look like–the equivalent of sticking a mannequin on a remote-controlled car.

Now, Boston Dynamics–the company made famous by building the 240-pound quadruped robot BigDog for DARPA and then kicking the crap out of a smaller version called Spot–has developed an even smaller, more family-friendly version of its ultra-agile robot. They call it the SpotMini. Standing at thigh height and just 65 pounds fully loaded, it’s about the size and weight of a golden retriever.

Like America’s favorite dog, it can sneak under the art deco dressing table, or jog up the stairs. SpotMini will even reach onto your kitchen counter to take things. In this regard, SpotMini may be a lot more useful than your average domestic robot. He has a remarkably nimble clamp arm for a head that’s capable of loading glasswear into a dishwasher (though, I’ll admit, he could be a bit more gentle with the Riedel). SpotMini navigates through your home with “a variety of sensors” including 3-D depth cameras. And he runs a remarkable 90 minutes on a charge, which is better than most Roombas.

It’s enough to make you wonder if the domestic robot industry has been tackling the wrong problem. Rather than developing friendly humanoid assistants, it makes more sense to model a household robot after man’s best friend.