When architect Liz Diller took on the massive task of reinventing the Museum of Modern Art flagship on 53rd Street five years ago, she relished the challenge.
“We pride ourselves on being problem-makers, rather than problem-solvers,” Diller says, laughing, as she sits in the lobby of the building she redesigned — now unrecognizable from its former self. “We need to bring to light things that might not be in everyone’s consciousness.”
Indeed, the architect and her team at Diller Scofidio + Renfro focused on those problems during their first meeting with MoMA’s executives, where they made their pitch for the job: a $450 million expansion of the existing site. (It would be the museum’s fifth makeover in the last 90 years; the last reboot, masterminded by Yoshio Taniguchi, only opened in 2004.)
But Diller identified two main challenges that remained within the space. “It did not have a good relationship with the street [outside], as it was very transactional — ticketing was right at the door and you could barely see inside,” she says. “And after entering, you had to walk half a mile until you saw any art.”
MoMA’s honchos were convinced, and quickly handed her firm the reins of the latest redo. The museum has undergone more reinventions than Kim Kardashian since moving, in 1932, into a Rockefeller-owned townhouse on its current site. But this latest is arguably its most radical, adding 47,000 square feet of gallery space, expanding the overall capacity by around a third.
Navigating within the previous expansions, Diller says, was “very hard work, almost like surgery.” (Fortunately, Diller Scofidio + Renfro are veterans of refurbishing Lincoln Center and elements of Hudson Yards; here, they partnered with design giant Gensler.)
And this week, New Yorkers can finally see the human-centered, detail-oriented solutions the firm envisaged as the museum reopens to the public. There are several floors of new exhibition space, of course, but instead of arranging the museum’s collection as a single, strict narrative, it’s now displayed in a jigsaw of thematic rooms — an art buffet, rather than a formal banquet.
Nowhere is Diller’s problem-making more in evidence, though, than on the first floor, which has been radically reconfigured. Both a new canopy and a wider entranceway welcome the outside world; the museum’s shop, meanwhile, has been moved to the lower level (left), and replaced with squishy leather sofas and an airy waiting area.
Diller is particularly proud of one easily overlooked feature: the blade stairway, which connects the museum’s old space with its new building. That stairway occupies part of the area where the Folk Art Museum once stood — the struggling institution that was snapped up by MoMA and controversially demolished to allow for this expansion.
She suggests that visitors walk up this floating steel skeleton, which hangs from the roof like a mobile, and pause for a moment to listen — they’ll likely hear very little. That’s because the wooden walls are micro-perforated, an imperceptible technique that acts as a sound-muffler so that gallery-goers aren’t disturbed by footfalls up and down the staircase.
“It’s a quiet stair, but people won’t know why,” Diller says, proudly.
The best things to buy at the new MoMA Design Shop
There’s not a single item on the shelves of MoMA’s in-house design store that hasn’t undergone scrutiny from the renowned museum’s own finicky art curators. The shop’s buyers scour the world for intriguing new products before bringing them back for review by the museum’s team, which determines whether a potential piece is innovative enough to pass muster.
“There’s a real dialogue with the curators, who validate every product we sell,” notes Emmanuel Plat, the Conran Shop alum who now runs merchandising at the store. Certainly, the MoMA Design Store’s track record on this is impressive: minimalist Japanese store Muji, now a fixture across the city, was first introduced stateside via a MoMA pop-up.
In the reconceived shop — which now sits a floor below its original digs — that partnership has deepened. Plat points to 30-foot-high bookshelves, explaining that every title in the double-height library was chosen by a task force from the museum, including multiple curators — a process that took more than two years.
“It’s the ultimate assortment of art books, and mirrors the way MoMA is approaching art differently — there’s a better representation of cultural and gender diversity,” he says. There will also be a rotating pop-up from an indie art publisher; the first is by Mexico City-based Gato Negro.
Plat is also excited about the new range of exclusive, limited-edition products for sale in the shop, many of them collaborations with artists in MoMA’s collection.
Take the Champion-made sweatshirt emblazoned with Haim Steinbach’s 2013 “Hello Again” installation, which has become the reopened museum’s unofficial mascot. Or “Visible Markers” from Allan McCollum; the artist is known for repeating the word “THANKS” in his work, so it’s no surprise to find it embossed into these palm-sized, smooth resin stones, sold in red, yellow or blue for $36. Small, portable and affordable, they’re ideal for visitors hoping to bring home a memory from the museum.
Beyond artsy hostess gifts, they’re imbued with another meaning, according to Plat: “The museum is reopening, and we want to thank a lot of people, too.”
