The Robie House

I felt guilty about spending so much time in Macy’s yesterday, when there is so much more to see in Chicago. So I planned a full itinerary of cultural excursions for my last full day in the windy city. I started out early at the Chicago Art Institute down at Millennium Park. Another fine American Gallery with a very impressive collection of French impressionists. Between the Chicago Art Institute and the Met I think their combined collections could rival my favourite, the Musee D’Orsay in Paris. But then again, maybe it’s just been a long time since I was last in Paris. Sigh.

After lunch I headed out to the suburbs to the edge of the University of Chicago to my pre-booked tour of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Robie House, touted as his finest example of Prairie Style residential architecture. Being in the suburbs, it was a bit tricky to get to, but I had a brilliant plan. I would catch the el most of the way there and then just hop a cab from the El station right to Robie House. Perfect – in theory.

I arrived at the el station out in the suburbs with 40 minutes to spare before the tour started. After missing out on a few things in San Fran and New York, I’d made sure I had booked ahead when I was still in Toronto. So, I wandered out of the el station onto the main street to hail a cab. Hmmmm, no cabs. Hmmm. 10 minutes ticked by. Hmmm. I went and asked the station security guards if they knew the number for a local taxi company. They looked at each other unhelpfully and said no, the didn’t know the number for a cab. Hmmm turned into a huff.

So I went back outside and spent a further 15 minutes trying to catch the phone numbers of cabs whizzing past the el station with passengers in them. A highly unsuccessful pursuit. Time was ticking by, now I had only 10 minutes until the tour started and I was still at the el station.

I went back inside and asked the station master if he knew the number for a cab, he didn’t but they looked something up in a phone book and gave me the number of a local supplier. I called the number. Nobody answered. I called a few times, and nobody answered.

I went back inside and asked to see the phone book again, and this time called Yellow Cabs. They said they could get a cab to my location in about 20 minutes or so. That would be 10 minutes after the tour had already started. ‘Don’t bother, I replied’.

Now I was really pissed off. I was actually furious. Furious at all the useless people standing around who don’t know something as simple as the number to call a cab. I know it’s not their job to help me. But they’re all just mooching around and I have shelled out $50 for this tour and it’s the last tour of the day on my last day in Chicago.

I walked back inside, mad as hell now to ask the station manager where the bus outside goes to. I said I wanted to go to the Robie House at which point the young guy who had helped me with the phone book said, “Why didn’t you say that in the first place – you just catch the number 55 bus across the street and walk two blocks”. Grrr. I ran across the street to wait for the number 55 bus. The tour had already started five minutes ago. Then a vacant cab started driving towards me. I practically stood in the middle of the road to flag it down and arrived flustered at the Robie House only 15 minutes late. Fortunately they were able to catch me up to where the rest of the tour group was at – in the children’s playroom.

In the early 1908 Fredrick Robie, commissioned Frank Lloyd Wright to build a grand home for him, his wife and two children at the edge of the University of Chicago. Frank Lloyd Wright created a masterpiece for the family that even now reveals a level of domestic innovation that’s still not mandatory in all new homes – like a ducted vacuuming system. The final bill was $58,500 which roughly translates to about $1.3 million in today’s money.

The home was completed in 1910 and included a three car garage. This is at a time when the model T Ford had only been around two years. One bay of the garage included a mechanics pit and the another included a carwash. A carwash!

Inside the home, the custom dining table designed by Wright included plinths at each corner that housed electric lamps. Electric lamps built into the dining table in 1910 people. The original shower, which has been restored in the home is an industrial-looking contraption that features a series of chrome pipes that circle and loop around. The pipes have a series of jets coming from them so the bather, stands in the centre and water spurts from jets in every direction at various heights to wash you quickly and efficiently – again, lets not forget this is Illinois in 1910!

The home is a masterpiece. Both in terms of the craftsmanship and use of materials – the different types of wood etc, and also in terms of the pure innovation for the time.

The tour was definitely a highlight from my Chicago leg and I’m glad that I persevered with the challenging transport arrangements to get there.

And then it was Friday night, my last night in Chicago. Patrick whom I’d met at the Green Mill the night before had told me not to make plans, that if I wasn’t doing anything, he’d like to take me to some places that most tourists wouldn’t know about.

He called in the middle of the taxi incident to ask if I’d like to go sailing from Monroe Harbour at 6pm. Having missed out on sailing at the Hamptons, I said ‘yes’. Getting to Monroe Harbour was a cinch after my adventures earlier in the afternoon. So I waited for Pat and whoever else was coming sailing, it had sounded like maybe it would be a group of his friends? He got stuck in traffic and arrived eventually, with an older guy, Captain Dan, who turned out to be his dad.

So the three of us went sailing out on Monroe Harbour on Patrick and Captain Dan’s yacht as the sun set over Chicago. It was definitely a magical experience and a completely unexpected adventure in Chicago.

After a few hours we sailed back into the harbour and Patrick and I went out to a bar in Wicker Park, near I was staying. Who knew five blocks up from the sketchy Polish triangle near where I was staying were a throng of uber trendy bars and clubs? And so after a kind of unfriendly start, I managed to find some really friendly locals in Chicago and as always, ended up on a crazy, unplanned adventure with local folks.