February 2018


My admiration for the Carlyle Hotel is not primarily for its distinctive tower, its famous guests, or for its refined blend of classic and art-deco detail. Nor is it for the elegant dining room or Bemelman’s bar.

Rather it is for the smallish and comfortable Gallery, a modest octagonal room, with cushy banquettes and chairs, a glorious wallpaper of colorful fruits and flowers and abstract forms, and small round white-clothed tables. Over many years, I have been here for drinks alone or with friends, for a date, and even for an interview. It is as you know behind the Madison Avenue entrance, after heading through the vestibule, a few steps down and through a glass door on the left.

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