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Once while testifying in court, Frank Lloyd Wright referred to himself as the world's greatest architect. Asked later how he could make such an excessive claim, he replied, “Well, I was under oath, wasn't I?” (Secrest, 1998, p. 376).
If declarations in court call for honesty, there is another situation that is even more likely to elicit truthfulness: when a person is alone, or thinks he is alone. One day a young apprentice named Jonathan Lipman happened to be working underneath the piano in Wright's studio at Taliesen, trying to repair the legs. Wright fussed around the room for a few minutes without noticing Lipman. The famous architect finally strolled out of the room, singing to himself, “I am the greatest” (Secrest, 1998, p. 251).
These two anecdotes capture Wright's primary conception of himself. He viewed himself as special, unparalleled, outstanding; I call this his exalted self. In looking at how this self-image developed, along with another competing view of himself, I will examine his early life.
Wright tells us in his autobiography (1977, pp. 31-33) that, even before he was born, his mother wanted him to become an architect and hung engravings of English cathedrals in the nursery. Later, he notes, she provided Froebel building blocks with which he could play. While the specifics have been questioned (Gill, 1988, p. 44), Wright's recounting of these legends reflects his belief that his mother was invested in his achieving greatness and that his success as an architect had fulfilled her wish.
Anna Lloyd Jones's family was poor as she grew up. She had an interest in