The sole survivor of a multi-mansion development a stone’s throw from the Met, the house appears to be something of an anachronism among its neighbors, which all hail from more recent decades. It was completed in 1901 and looks very much the part of a fin-de-siècle titan of industry’s trophy ‘in-town’ residence, an ornate six-story presence looming ostentation over the street below.
Ornamental is the word. The exterior is drenched in beaux-arts details, including a mansard roof—showing off a coat of green veneer that contrasts nicely with the warmth of its red-slate tiles—as well as half-moon dormers, bay windows, balconies with stone and iron balustrades, second-floor window pediments, frosted glass panels, carved stone, statuary, and first-floor limestone.
A double-door entrance leads to the house’s foyer, an essential space in the beaux-arts layout. The seven levels begin with an English basement; a garden level and a parlor level follow. The sixth level could either be adapted as a full-floor master or an in-law apartment, while the seventh would make an ideal media space.
Among the consolations of the interior is a window bay capped with an arcing series of skylights that give the installation an atrium-like feel, the stenciled ceilings and walls of the great room, the iron and bronze of the staircase balustrade, and the narrow-plank hardwood — looks like maple — that runs throughout the shared spaces. Amenities in the house include an elevator.
