Manhattan’s Frick Collection, which I would call the jewel in New York’s culture crown, opens its renovated Fifth Avenue manse to the public this week. The redo is less a beacon light of pizzazz — it’s the Frick, not Madame Tussaud’s — than a heartwarming embrace of elegance, of restraint, and of considered purpose. I’m not surprised. The $220 million project — a deep-dive renovation and surgical addition — has been in the works for years and parsed by suspicious, mossbacked neighbors, nearly all but the live-in servants very rich, and visitors who will say without a prod that they love the place.
This week, I’ll look at how the Frick has physically changed. The touch looks light, but it’s profound. I’ll write about the rearrangement of the treasure trove collection. Next week, I’ll consider how the Frick has evolved over its 90 years as a museum, the new art on view, some of my old favorites, and whatever else titillates.
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