Hotel Chelsea patriarch Stanley Bard
Offering a home to bards for more than 50 years
By David Gibbons
Here in Chelsea, the closest thing we have to a village innkeeper is Stanley Bard. Having run the Hotel Chelsea for more than 50 years, the 72-year-old Bard, a longtime art enthusiast, unflappable manager and elder statesman among local businesspeople, projects an air at once laidback and authoritative, solicitous and dignified.
His venerable old lady of 23rd Street, a national landmark, began life in 1884 as New York’s first co-op and was the tallest building in New York City for two decades. It became a hotel in 1905, went bankrupt and was revived by David Bard, Stanley’s father, and his associates.
The roll call of creative types who have been guests or residents is nothing short of astonishing. A sampling: Mark Twain, O. Henry, Tennessee Williams, Brendan Behan, Vladimir Nabokov, Virgil Thompson, Dylan Thomas, Jimi Hendrix, Patti Smith, Robert Mapplethorpe, Claes Oldenburg, Willem de Koonig, Jasper Johns. (In its darkest hour, former Sex Pistols’ bassist Sid Vicious was charged with the stabbing death of his girlfriend, Nancy Spungen, in Room 100.)
Arthur C. Clarke and Stanley Kubrick wrote the film “2001: A Space Odyssey” at the hotel; Bob Dylan penned his beautiful musical ode “Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands” there in the early 1960s. The list goes on and on. Bard, who took over from his father in the late 1950s, has seen them all. He’s negotiated their stays and, with each passing day, he continues to welcome new luminaries and working artists to the Chelsea.
Hotel Chelsea or The Chelsea Hotel—which is it?
It doesn’t matter. They’re interchangeable and you can use either one. The signs we have say both.
The Chelsea’s slogan is “A Rest Stop for Rare Individuals.” Who made it up?
Probably my children [who also put together the hotel’s eye-catching Website]. It signifies what the hotel stands for: the creative element.
How long have you owned and managed the hotel?
My father ran it beginning in 1939. I’ve been involved in the company my entire life, and so have my children. It’s a private corporation, so I don’t really want to go into the details of ownership. Let’s just say we’ve controlled the management of it forever. My son David and my daughter Michelle grew up at first hating the hotel because it took their father away from them. I’m a workaholic. I’m not young anymore, but I still spend 15 to 20 hours a day here.
You worked with your father from when you were in your teens?
Yeah. My father spent a lot of time teaching me. It took me 20 years to learn the physical plant and layout. It was built in the 1880s, and it is so discombobulated—every room is different. It was built horizontally rather than vertically. Each person designed a floor.
Do you feel a big responsibility being the proprietor of a landmark?
I feel I have a responsibility and it is somewhat of a weight. But it never bothered me. I enjoy it, and I’m still coming in at 5:30 in the morning every day. There are ups and downs to any business, but I can’t complain. I’ve always felt excited and stimulated being involved with this one.
Aside from the long hours, are there ever times when you wish you could just simplify your life and own a Best Western?
Never. Sometimes over the years, I wished I owned The Plaza because it would make a lot more money. But, no, I’ve never been disappointed or dissatisfied.
I see you answer the phone and take reservations like any other employee.
I do everything. I wash windows, I mop floors...
What are the challenges of managing an institution like this?
Keeping it going, propagating the image, catering to the type of people you expect to stay here, keeping it going in a way that is always sympathetic to the needs of the artist.
What’s the hardest part of the job?
The hours. Also dealing with the personalities so they feel comfortable living here, to the point where they would do anything for me and vice-versa. The goal is to create a mutual admiration society.
What are its greatest pleasures?
Dealing with these people, witnessing their success. Hoping or feeling that you may have made even the smallest contribution to that success.
Do you have house rules vis-à-vis people who, like “the good witch” Vali Myers, want to custom-paint their rooms and make them into art installations?
I’ve been known to stretch the limits. I don’t want to say too much, because I don’t want to encourage too many people to paint their rooms up. Vali Myers was a very special person who had her own definite ideas, and I allowed her to explore them. I’ve always tried to have some flexibility.
There are numerous myths and legends about the Chelsea, its guests and residents—for example, that the art collection in the lobby is a result of you accepting barter payments from resident artists who were short on cash.
There’s no truth to that at all. What happens is, they don’t always have the money while they’re preparing for a big show, which could take three to six months. I’ve been known to be very liberal about their payment schedules. But they always paid me. Very rarely have I been abused by an artist.
So the collection came as gifts?
People give what they feel they have to give. At Christmas, you might get a bottle of booze or Champagne from a businessperson, whereas an artist may give you a drawing, which may have a lot of value years down the road. That happened to me on quite a few occasions.
Can you confirm or deny some of the other legends about the place—for instance, that Joni Mitchell wrote “Chelsea Morning” about the hotel?
She wrote it when she stayed here. Leonard Cohen wrote songs to his girlfriends, one of whom was Janis Joplin. A lot of songs have been written for guests here by an admirer of theirs who also happened to be a guest.
Do any of these living legends ever come by now just to say hello?
A lot of people who were very big in the music field still drop in to say hello to me. I’m happy when they recognize me, because it might be 35 years or more since they stayed here. We all think we look the same, but we don’t!
There are legends that the building is haunted by the ghosts of deceased residents.
Ethan Hawke did a movie here called “Chelsea Walls,” and he raised that issue, at least metaphorically: “If these walls could only talk….” He felt the hotel offered a lot to creative minds. It calmed them; it helped stimulate the creative process. There is something spiritual about the walls, about the hotel itself. It worked so many times, I believe it.
What are some of your favorite incidents and anecdotes over the years?
I’m writing a book. I’ve been working on it for two or three years, and everybody’s asking, “When are you going to finish the book?” I’m so damn busy, I may never finish it, but I intend to. There are plenty of publishers who want to publish it. So, it’s just a question of me doing it.
Are you saying if we want your anecdotes, we have to wait till the book comes out?
That’s right. Wait for the book.
Who are some of your favorite guests and/or residents?
Arthur Miller was such a beautiful person, a wonderful man and an individual who I really respected. He was one of the most important people in the world, but he never blew his own horn. And his daughter Rebecca, who was born here and who I knew very well… these are exactly my kind of people: Their importance is not important to them. What they’ve created speaks for itself.
What are your plans for the business? There’s a rumor it will be turned into a boutique hotel.
No, that’s not what I want. Some of the board members do, but I’m fighting them on that. I don’t think that’s the way to go.
How do you envision the hotel in five years? Ten years? Will it stay a family business and continue to be run the same way?
Well, maybe not so much a “family business,” but I want the family to run it with a heart and a soul for the purpose of creating something admirable that will continue in the same vein, that will preserve the spirit and the integrity of this wonderful structure.
Will you ever retire?
No. They’ll probably have to carry me out.
