The Gilded Age

It was pouring down sheets of rain as my Mom and I made our way onto the 6 train to head up town. Rain slogged our shoes, wet umbrellas paved a slippery path on the subway car, and a dreary emotion permeated the city. With the economy weighing heavy on everyone's mind and bank accounts, New York was showing its weary lines of stress. And the week of non stop rain didn't help.

Emerging onto 70th street, a large structure came into view, with detailed architecture and a sense of solidarity. Making our way into the foyer entrance, shredding ourselves of wet umbrellas, we emerged in a spectacular, mesmerizing, and awe inducing home. Suddenly, the glorious past was at our fingertips and a historic tranquility lifted our spirits.

The Frick Museum, built during the Gilded Age by Henry Clay Frick, is a true New York City gem. The museum itself, once home to Mr. Frick, speaks of a decadent age. Walking through the connected rooms, with high vaulted ceilings, painted panels of cherubs and maidens, adorned with famous Old Italian Master Paintings, one truly feels the pull of the past. The entrance hall, with a large gold plated organ in an alcove next to the stairs, the stairs, wrapped in a decorative iron gate, and the tile floors echoing our soft steps, we imagined being summoned to a dinner at this glorious home. Quite the entrance guests would have experienced.


The artworks themselves were chosen with perfection, in line with the regal and almost religious upstanding of the mansion. From the wispy, angelic pastels by Fragonard, to the elegant portraiture frames of aristocrats by Gainsborough, to the tumultuous and fiery nature landscapes of Joseph Mallord William Turner, I sank into each painting as if I was reclining into a worn in, overstuffed chair. Among the old Masters, the seriousness of Titian & Piero della Francesca, I spotted a wonderfully playful Manet, "The Bullfight". And again, was delighted to find a watery Monet landscape. Although most of the collection spoke of a pious past, the collection also played on the lighter strings of angels, and mischievous woman.

We sauntered through the Mansion a second time, carefully eyeing the descriptive details within the framework and furniture. After, we spent a long time in the museum shop, flipping through books on Mr. Frick, stories of a past exuberant life, and relishing the tales of the Gilded Age.