For its entire existence, the Grand Stair Hall in the center of the Frick Mansion on 70th and 5th tantalized museum visitors. Graceful, endless, and dominating, it was always blocked by a velvet rope that barred anyone from ascending and reaching the second floor of the mansion, as it was used as office space during the previous incarnation of the Frick Collection.
But as of April 17th, 2025, that barrier stands no longer. After five years of extensive renovations and refurbishment, during which time the museum’s collection was temporarily moved to Marcel Breuer’s brutalist building a few blocks away, the Frick’s second floor and its accompanying rooms are finally once again open to the public.
To label the museum as “back and better than ever” is an understatement. Despite the doubts of some angry preservationists, who thought any renovations would stain the architectural and historical integrity of the building, I can confidently report that the reopened Frick Collection feels as seamless and airy as one could hope.

Credit is of course due to the central architect of the renovation, Anabelle Selldorf, a frequent go-to architect for complicated structural updates and renovations, and one with mansion-transforming experience (she helped to convert the onetime Vanderbilt Mansion sixteen blocks north of the Frick Collection into the Neue Galerie). Operating alongside her company Selldorf Architects, garden designer Lynden B. Miller, and the New York firm of Beyer Blinder Belle, Selldorf oversaw the construction of a brand new state of the art 218 seat auditorium, reconfigured and re-opened the mansion’s second floor, refurbished the 70th Street garden, and added various new amenities including a gift shop, a cafe, and an Art Research Library.
The mansion itself was designed in 1914 by the firm Carrère and Hastings, responsible for the landmark New York Public Library at 42nd Street, and in 1930, the building was converted from a mansion to a museum by John Russell Pope. While the extensive Frick collection, which compiles classically masterful works from the Renaissance to the late 19th century, is mindblowing on its own, a large part of the joy of the Frick Museum is seeing those works within a preserved Gilded Age residence.

But for years, the limited space felt insufficient as the Frick Collection continued to grow. While many potential renovations were proposed, including one outrage-inciting proposal that got rid of a beloved 70th Street side garden, they all eventually fell through–until Selldorf entered the picture.
When she was initially hired in 2016, Selldorf committed to keeping the Russell Page designed garden, an immediate advantage in preserving the historical integrity of the space. With a combination of surgical hands and a core Classical commitment, she examined the museum and identified the places in need of improvement.
The long-standing music room was the first issue. New York’s equivalent of a 19th century saloon, it was just simply not large or up to date enough to support all of the concerts, guest speakers, and events that the Frick frequently hosted. It was eventually renovated into three new galleries, central to Selldorf’s plan for new temporary exhibition spaces, while she addressed the problem of a music room replacement.
Here, the garden came into play. In order to construct the modern clam-shaped, 218 seat auditorium of the Frick’s dreams, she excavated underneath the garden. Like most of the renovations, it was a major undertaking, and required ripping up the garden and then replanting it exactly as it had been when construction was done, all the while building two additional stories that framed the garden’s northern side and formed the new Education Center and cafe. But the care and deference paid off—all of the Frick’s events will now take place in this underground walnut masterpiece, with the acoustics and the appearances to sustain the museum in its new modern era, and the Garden preserved as a shining oasis of greenery.
While renovations like the music room and garden were met with considerable dismay by some, the reopening of the second floor was by far the most anticipated change. The result lives up to expectations. Getting to walk up that grand, gilded staircase, view Renoir’s La Promenade in all its glory, and enter into room upon room of carefully curated artwork felt startlingly familiar and yet equally awe-inspiring.
While pre-renovation there wasn’t a single wall-space to waste, the museum can now afford to display everything that was once in storage due to lack of exhibit space. New rooms of ornate clocks, vases and celebratory medals are a testament to the vastness of the Frick collection, and they serve as welcome additions to the Frick’s core collections. One of the strengths of the Frick has always been its integration of the Frick possessions and paintings, and nowhere is this more apparent than what is newly on display on the second floor.

The first room on the rotation is the former Breakfast room, now covered in embellished deep green wallpaper and lined with the work of mid-nineteenth century French masters, including works by Millet, Rousseau, Daubigny, and Corot. The contrast of window light and wall shade blend beautifully with the painting’s muted morning tones. But both wallpaper and painting style become increasingly more daring upon one’s progression from room to room, reaching a peak in one baby blue room in the southwest corner, the Boucher Room, with a variety of images painted right onto the wall by French Rococo painter Francois Boucher. Adorable cherubs are the stars in each piece—as they learn how to paint, cook, assemble vegetables, and hunt. The room was initially moved downstairs in the 1930s so that the public could see the works, but it now shines, back on display in its original location in the Frick Mansion.

Additional spaces, including a dark paneled walnut room eerily resembling the library downstairs, house many of the paintings that used to be on view in alternate locations. Much of the Renaissance artworks have been moved upstairs, including Piero della Francesca’s St. John the Evangelist and Crucifixion, and the golds and reds and blue make a stark contrast against the mahogany. Also in this room is Ingres’s striking painting of Louise, Princesse de Broglie, Later the Comtesse d’Haussonville, a masterclass in portraiture where she rests against a mantle, with a quizzical expression on her face.
Much of this first level, aside from the new sparkling ticket booth and coat check, remains unchanged. Jean-Antoine Houdon’s Diana the Huntress still stuns at the end of the Portico Gallery, El Greco’s Saint Jerome still rests above the fireplace in Living Hall, Fragonard’s Progress of Love still captures attention in the Fragonard Room. It’s reassuring to see these familiar beauties even amidst the museum’s changes.
Selldorf and her fellow architects set out with a steep task: to elevate the Frick’s gilded, timeless aesthetic to the modern day. And they succeeded—fresh two-toned marble and shiny brass blend beautifully with the gold crusted rooms, and every new renovation and expansion appears natural.
The Frick Museum now fits perfectly among its museum contemporaries. But most importantly, that ever-special essence is the same, that calm luxurious atmosphere that distinguishes it from museums like the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Guggenheim only a few blocks up. As the museum’s 100th anniversary approaches in a couple of years, I can confidently say that this version of the Frick is ready to support another century of celebration and boundless artistic imagination.
The Frick Museum now fits perfectly among its museum contemporaries. But most importantly, that ever-special essence is the same, that calm luxurious atmosphere that distinguishes it from museums like the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Guggenheim only a few blocks up. As the museum’s 100th anniversary approaches in a couple of years, I can confidently say that this version of the Frick is ready to support another century of celebration and boundless artistic imagination.
