Lloyd Wright Houses: What Most People Get Wrong About the Other Wright

Lloyd Wright Houses: What Most People Get Wrong About the Other Wright

If you’ve ever stood in front of a house that looks like a Mayan temple crashed into a Hollywood film set, you’re probably looking at a Lloyd Wright house.

People constantly confuse him with his father, the legendary Frank Lloyd Wright. It happens all the time. But Lloyd—born Frank Lloyd Wright Jr.—wasn't just some shadow-dwelling apprentice. He was a force of nature in Los Angeles architecture, blending a background in landscape design and set building into something much more theatrical, and frankly, weirder than what his dad was doing in the Midwest.

The confusion isn't just about the name. Both men used "textile blocks." Both obsessed over organic materials. However, while Frank wanted to harmonize with the land, Lloyd often wanted to dominate it with drama.

The "Jaws" House and the Black Dahlia

Honestly, if we're talking about Lloyd Wright houses, we have to start with the John Sowden House. Built in 1926 in Los Feliz, it’s basically the final boss of Southern California architecture.

It looks like a shark. People literally call it the "Jaws House" because the concrete textile blocks at the entrance resemble a gaping, toothy maw. It’s brooding. It’s culty. Inside, every single room opens into a central courtyard, which was originally built for wild Hollywood parties and musical performances.

But there’s a darker layer to this one.

Between 1945 and 1950, a physician named Dr. George Hodel owned the place. If that name sounds familiar, it’s because his son, a former LAPD detective, spent years trying to prove that Hodel murdered Elizabeth Short—the Black Dahlia—in the basement of this very house. Whether you believe the "cadaver dog" theories or not, the architecture itself creates a mood that makes you believe anything could happen behind those heavy copper gates.

It’s a Mayan Revival masterpiece that feels like it belongs in an Indiana Jones movie, yet it sits right on Franklin Avenue.

Why the Landscape Came First

Before he was a master architect, Lloyd worked for the Olmsted Brothers. Yeah, the guys who designed Central Park.

This is the key to understanding his work. He didn't just plop a building on a lot; he "grew" the building out of the dirt. He was obsessed with the idea that the garden and the house should be a single, breathing organism.

Take the Samuel-Novarro House (1928). It’s a four-level residence built into a steep Los Feliz hillside. It’s famous for those "dollar bill green" oxidized copper accents that run in horizontal bands across the white concrete. It was originally built for Louis Samuel, the manager of silent film star Ramon Novarro.

The story is pure Hollywood: Novarro found out Samuel was embezzling money to pay for the house, so Novarro just... took it. He moved in, hired Lloyd to expand the garden, and turned it into an Art Deco-Mayan fusion playground.

The Tragic Fate of the Wayfarers Chapel

You can't talk about Lloyd’s legacy without mentioning the Wayfarers Chapel in Rancho Palos Verdes. Or, what’s left of it.

Known as "The Glass Church," it was finished in 1951. It’s arguably one of the most beautiful spiritual spaces in America. He used the surrounding redwood trees to form the "walls" of the chapel, using glass panes to enclose the space without blocking the view of the Pacific.

It’s heartbreaking, but the earth literally moved too much.

In early 2024, accelerated land movement—basically a slow-motion landslide—damaged the foundation so badly that the chapel had to be completely dismantled. They saved the materials, numbering every piece of wood and stone, but the site is currently a ghost of what it was. There’s a massive effort to rebuild it on more stable ground, but it’s a reminder of how fragile "organic architecture" can be when nature decides to reclaim the land.

Spotting the Difference: Lloyd vs. Frank

So, how do you tell them apart when you're walking through the Hollywood Hills?

  • The Drama: Frank’s houses (like the Ennis or Hollyhock) feel like fortresses. Lloyd’s houses feel like stage sets. He worked at Paramount Studios, and it shows.
  • The Blocks: Both used concrete blocks, but Lloyd’s patterns are often more aggressive and jagged.
  • The Vertigo: Lloyd loved verticality. While Frank’s "Prairie Style" was all about the horizontal line of the horizon, Lloyd wasn't afraid to go up, carving steep staircases and multi-level terraces into hillsides that other architects wouldn't touch.

The Taggart House (1922) is another prime example. It was his first big modernist win. It features a two-story living room and these incredible wood-carved lightboxes that feel more like sculpture than furniture.

What Really Matters for Homeowners and Enthusiasts

Living in a Lloyd Wright house isn't like living in a normal home. It's a lifestyle of constant maintenance and preservation. These buildings weren't made of the most durable materials—early 20th-century concrete is notoriously finicky.

If you're looking to visit or study these landmarks, keep in mind that many are private residences. You can’t just walk into the Sowden House for a coffee, though it’s often used for high-end events and film shoots.

Actionable Insights for Architecture Fans

  1. Check the "Public" Status: Most Lloyd Wright houses are private. However, you can keep an eye on the Los Angeles Conservancy or the Frank Lloyd Wright Building Conservancy for rare tour dates.
  2. Drive the Los Feliz Route: You can see the exteriors of the Sowden, Samuel-Novarro, and Taggart houses all within a few miles of each other. Just don't be the person blocking the narrow hillside roads.
  3. Support the Rebuild: If the loss of the Wayfarers Chapel hits you hard, the official chapel website has a "Rebuilding the Wright Legacy" fund. They’re aiming for a 2027 reconstruction.
  4. Study the Set Design: If you want to see Lloyd’s influence without leaving your couch, watch The Aviator or I Am the Night. The Sowden House plays a starring role, and the cinematography captures the "brooding" vibe he intended better than any still photo.

Lloyd Wright wasn't just "the son." He was the architect who defined the theatrical, rugged, and sometimes dark soul of Los Angeles. He didn't just build houses; he built myths.

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If you want to understand the real Los Angeles—the one that exists between the glamour and the shadows—you have to look at the concrete blocks Lloyd left behind.


Next Steps for Your Research

Start by looking up the Sowden House Matterport scans online. Because the house is so rarely open to the public, these 3D tours are the only way to see the "water organ" locations and the way the light hits the central courtyard. Then, compare his work to Frank Lloyd Wright’s Ennis House nearby. You'll immediately see where the father's influence ends and the son's theatricality begins.

Stay updated on the Wayfarers Chapel relocation by following the Rancho Palos Verdes city council meetings. The geological reports they've released are a fascinating, if sobering, look at why building on a bluff is a gamble against time.