Every pre-war building keeps a few secrets. Some are buried behind layers and layers of paint. Some are tucked into a corner nobody looks at twice. And every so often, the building hands you the answer to a challenge you have been wrestling with, if you are paying close enough attention.

That is exactly what happened on a recent project of ours for a gorgeous Upper West Side pre-war co-op.

The Board came to us with a clear and admirable goal. They wanted to refresh their lobby in keeping with the original architect’s vision, J.E.R. Carpenter, one of the 1920s premier designer of apartment buildings. This building went up in 1929, the same year the bottom fell out of the stock market. And when money is tight, even the most ambitious buildings get value-engineered. Though the exterior facade of the building is superb in every detail, while walking the lobby interior spaces, it became evident that some of the finer architectural details were simply never finished.

The most obvious example was a wide, awkward gap between the decorative crown molding at the ceiling and a lower decorative frieze. There was a flat blank area between 2 decorative plaster elements that had clearly been left out when the original budget ran short. In a building this thoughtfully detailed, that empty band stood out. It was the architectural equivalent of an unfinished sentence.

To their credit, a previous Board had already paid homage to Mr. Carpenter in a smart, modest way. In an earlier lobby renovation, they selected historical paint colors as a budget-conscious nod to the building’s pedigree. It was a respectful gesture, and you can see it in the photographs. But the gap remained.

Now, here is what made this project unusual.

This particular Board includes several architects, people who have built real careers at important architectural firms here in New York City. They care deeply about this building, and they came to the table with ideas. One suggestion was to fill the gap with a fluted, ribbed vertical texture.

It was a beautiful idea on paper. But something did not quite feel right to me.

Here is the thing about working in a pre-war building. The goal is never to add a new but different detail unnecessarily. The goal is to add the correct detail, the one the building itself would have chosen.

The fluted texture was lovely. One of my personal favorites we use on projects. The trouble was that it did not exist anywhere else in the building. Nowhere. Introducing it would have meant inventing a brand new architectural vocabulary and hoping it blended in with everything Mr. Carpenter actually designed. In my experience, that kind of guess almost always reads as a “guess”. Residents may not be able to name what feels off, but they feel it every single time they walk through the lobby.

So I did what I always do when a space is not giving up its answer easily.

I slowed down, and I looked.

Walking through one of the lobby archways, I happened to look up. And there it was.

A corbel, original to the building, carrying an arrow-shaped “spear” motif. A genuine Carpenter element, sitting right overhead, exactly where it had been since 1929.

That spear was the solution.

Instead of importing a detail that had never belonged to this building in the first place, we took one of Mr. Carpenter’s own classical elements and used it to finish the columns. Voila! The shape was already part of the building’s design language, so the moment it went up, it looked as though it had always been there. Not added. Not invented. Finished.

That is the difference between decorating a lobby and completing one.

There was one more decision that brought the whole thing to life.

We painted these glorious plaster details white.

White does something wonderful to ornamental plaster. It removes the distraction of color and lets pure form take over, so the eye reads the shapes, the depth, and the artistry of the molding itself. The details turned almost confectionery, delicious, like beautifully piped work on a wedding cake.

Yum.

Honestly, who doesn’t love vanilla icing?

I share this story because it captures something I believe about renovating pre-war co-op and condo buildings, and it is worth every Board’s attention.

The most successful pre-war lobby renovations are not about imposing a designer’s taste on a historic space. They are about listening to the building first. Before pencil goes to paper, the building will usually tell you what it wants, if you have the patience and the experience to hear it.

A few principles guided this project, and they guide all of them:

1. Respect the architect’s original intent. When a building was designed by someone of real stature, the smartest move is rarely to compete with that vision. It is to complete it. Most often, we dig deeper and do some research on other buildings designed by that same architect to get inspiration directly from them, making it easier to fill in where they left off, if needed.

2. Borrow from the building, not from a catalog. The strongest details in a pre-war lobby are almost always already present somewhere in the space. The work is finding them and giving them a fuller voice.

3. Honor good ideas without being ruled by them. This Board brought genuine architectural expertise to the conversation, and that input is valuable. Part of my job is to take every good idea seriously and then steer toward the one that truly serves the building. A collaborative process and a disciplined eye are not in conflict. They are partners.

4. Sometimes restraint is the boldest choice. A coat of white paint and one borrowed motif accomplished what an entirely new architectural feature could not.

This is the kind of work that does not just refresh a lobby. It increases the pride residents feel walking through their own front door, and in pre-war buildings, that pride translates directly into property value.

We took the time and the care to finish Mr. Carpenter’s masterpiece the way we believe he intended. And I would like to think that, somewhere, he is smiling down on this lobby and feeling that, at long last, it is complete.

That is what we are here for.

Sygrove Associates Design Group wrote the playbook for lobby and hallway renovations and remains the leader today. Founded in 1982, the firm has guided more than 350 cooperative, condominium, rental buildings, and hospitality projects through successful capital improvements throughout the New York City, metropolitan area — and now serves Boston, Chicago, and Miami as well.

Marilyn Sygrove directs every project, from concept to punch list — a signature process that builds consensus and delivers lasting value. If you are a property manager, board member or hotel general manager and are interviewing designers, Sygrove would be honored to be one of them.

Reach out to Marilyn at hello@sygrove.com or 212.757.0631.

Learn more:

• About Sygrove Associates Design Group

• Sygrove Client Testimonials

• View our Lobby Design Gallery

The elevator cab is the second room in your lobby. Here’s why that matters for your renovation, your building’s brand, and your property value.

I’ve been designing lobbies for co-op and condo buildings in NYC for over 30 years, and I find there is a recurring pattern I see again and again. A board commits to a beautiful lobby renovation. We agonize over the flow, the wall treatments and the flooring . We custom-design the doorman desk. We choose the rug, the lighting, the artwork. The day the lobby is unveiled, residents walk in and they’re thrilled.

Then they step into the elevator.

And the moment is gone.

Chipped laminate wall panels. A scratched stainless steel ceiling. A disgusting floor. A handrail that hasn’t been touched in twenty years. The elevator cab interior, left out of the renovation budget, quickly undoes a meaningful piece of what the lobby just worked so hard to create.

Here’s the thing. The elevator cab isn’t separate from the lobby. It’s the second room of the lobby. I often call it the “spaceship” between the lobby and the hallways. And in most buildings I walk into, it’s the one detail the board forgot.

I get it. There are a few reasons this part of the renovation tends to fall off the list.

The elevator is managed by a different vendor. Your elevator service company has been maintaining the interior for years, so boards mentally file it under “mechanical” rather than “interior design.” But the mechanical parts and the interior parts are two separate categories with two separate scopes and two separate budgets.

The space is also small, and boards tend to assume it’s too small to matter. In my experience, it’s the opposite. Every surface is right next to the resident’s face. There’s nowhere for a tired finish to hide.

And honestly, residents spend more time in there than in the lobby itself. They might walk through the lobby for twenty seconds. They’ll stand in the elevator, alone or with neighbors, for a full minute or more, several times a day. It’s where they actually look around.

Sound familiar?

When I work with a board, I often describe the project as branding the building. The lobby is the first chapter of that brand. The elevator cab is the second.

If your lobby is going for quiet luxury, with quality materials and refined detailing, and the elevator still has dated mirrored panels and harsh fluorescent lighting, the story experience falls apart. The resident leaves the lobby feeling one thing and arrives at their floor feeling another. The building loses its feeling of continuity.

A well-designed interior continues the conversation. The materials don’t have to match the lobby exactly. Often they shouldn’t. But they should rhyme. A wood tone picked up from the doorman desk. A metal finish echoed from the lobby lighting. A wall treatment that nods to the lobby palette without copying it.

After 30+ years working with co-op and condo boards in NYC, I’ve learned that buyers and residents pick up on these details, even when they can’t quite articulate what they’re seeing. They feel it. And that feeling translates directly into the perception that the building is well-run and well-cared-for, which translates into property value.

When this part of the project finally comes up in board conversations, the same questions come up too. Here are the ones I hear most often:

Are we renovating the elevator itself, or just the interior?

Two different things. The elevator itself, meaning the motor, the cables, the controller, the doors, falls under your elevator service company and is its own scope of work. The interior, meaning the walls, ceiling, floor, handrails, lighting, and finishes, is interior design. We work on the second part. Many boards combine the two when the timing makes sense, but they’re distinct projects with distinct contractors and our decorative part follows the mechanical.

How long will it be out of service?

Not as long as boards usually fear. A typical refresh, replacing panels, ceiling, lighting, and flooring, can be done within a few days when the work is properly planned and the materials are pre-fabricated off site. We coordinate carefully with the elevator service company and building staff so that residents are inconvenienced as little as possible. In buildings with two or more elevators, we stagger the work.

Can we keep some of what’s there?

Sometimes, yes. If the shell is in good condition and the existing materials are simply tired, we can refresh select surfaces, replace the ceiling and lighting, install new handrails, and update the flooring without rebuilding the whole interior. In other cases, things are far enough gone that a full re-skin is the right path. We assess this during the design phase.

What materials hold up?

These interiors take more abuse than almost any other space in the building. Moving furniture. Package deliveries. Dogs on leashes. Strollers. Dripping umbrellas. The materials need to be equally as beautiful and they are durable. I typically specify decorative yet durable high-pressure laminates with their edges trimmed in metal for protection, porcelain or marble panels again trimmed in metal to protect edges from chipping, decorative metal mesh panels or a specifically designed combination of materials for interest and durability. For flooring, we use porcelain tile, luxury vinyl tile, or carpet inserts depending on the building’s mood and available weight allowance for the cab. Mirrors can be tricky as they require frequent cleaning and can date quickly, so I use them sparingly.

What about the lighting?

Lighting may be the single biggest visual upgrade you can make to a tired interior. Older cars almost always have flat, harsh fluorescent fixtures that is far from flattering. Switching to a warm LED solution, often with a custom-designed ceiling feature, transforms the cab immediately. Residents see themselves in better light, and the ride feels like a destination rather than a holding cell.

Lobby renovations are significant capital improvements. Co-op and condo boards spend months, sometimes years, getting consensus, choosing a designer, approving budgets, and living through construction. When the lobby is finished, you want the result to hold up across every venue a buyer, broker, or resident encounters. The elevator cab is part of that venue.

If the interior is more than ten or fifteen years old, my strong advice is to fold it into your larger lobby project. Even a modest refresh, coordinated with the lobby work, protects the value of your larger investment. Skipping this piece to save a small portion of the budget is one of the most common false economies I see in this business.

While my firm is based in New York and our portfolio is concentrated here, the principles I’ve applied to over 350 NYC projects translate beautifully to high-rise buildings in Chicago, Boston, Philadelphia, Miami, and Los Angeles. The elevator cab is the second room of the lobby everywhere.

Sygrove Associates Design Group is NYC’s original specialist in co-op, condo, and hotel lobby and hallway renovations. Founder Marilyn Sygrove has guided more than 350 NYC buildings through successful capital improvements since 1982. The firm works in New York City, Westchester County, and New Jersey.

If your Board is preparing to interview designers, I would be glad to be one of them. Reach me directly at hello@sygrove.com or 212.757.0631.

Learn more:

• About Sygrove Associates Design Group

• Sygrove Client Testimonials

• View our Lobby Design Gallery