Last week I visited the Frick Collection, which has recently reopened after an extensive five-year, $220 million renovation.

The property itself is in wonderful shape, and the collection is fantastic as ever. Of particular interest to me this time around were the works on paper (confined to a single room but impressive nonetheless) and Francois Boucher’s “Four Seasons” series, originally painted in 1755 for Madame De Pompadour, King Louis XV’s long-term official mistress (including link to spring only, since the Frick itself only makes these images available online as prints for sale…). All four paintings were relegated to an out-of-the-way alcove, but given how crowded and generally visually overwhelming most of the gallery rooms were, this is perhaps for the best.

Despite the abundance of visual treasures, I was somewhat disappointed in my visit. As I hinted at above, the gallery rooms were overstimulating in a way that made appreciation of any singular piece difficult. The ornate moldings, refined furnishings, and general gaudiness of the space are all wonderful features of a Gilded Age mansion; but for an art gallery, they are largely a distraction and need to be thoughtfully incorporated.

I am tempted to conclude that this problem is endogenous to the space. After all, much of what I’m criticizing is supposed to be the charm of the Frick Collection. But after seeing how deftly San Francisco’s Legion of Honor Museum deals with the same challenges of limited space and ornate interiors, I can’t help but feel that the Frick could be done better, either through more thoughtful organization or by simply doing less. Moreover, the bulk of the visual pollution at the Frick comes from the liberal use of “do not touch” placards, which are the most prominently displayed items in the galleries.

The price of admission is $30 for a 30 minute visit–well worth it for art lovers with a certain level of disposable income but hardly a bargain, since the same $30 will buy you as much time as you’d like at The Met or MoMA. I rarely use guide books, but one at The Frick will cost you an additional $5, which feels like nickel and diming your patrons for what must be inconsequential revenue.

The 30-minute time slots are not strictly enforced, but one does have the experience of being “herded through” the galleries a bit. Photography is not permitted, which means using GPT or Claude to explore the works on display is an added challenge. Even the wrist band/tag used to verify your admission is requested to be returned on exit.

I don’t want to be a hater or an arm-chair quarterback–I am glad The Frick exists and was happy to support it with my admission. But that’s a low bar to clear, and I can’t help but think that perhaps some of the $220 million could have been better spent on admissions subsidy, more thoughtful curation, and simple amenities like free guide books.