It’s as if you discovered that the living room in your new apartment was painted by Michelangelo.
Frank DiLella moved to New York in 2002 to study journalism and theater at Fordham University. After graduating, he rented apartments in Astoria, Queens and Hell’s Kitchen and on Manhattan’s Upper West Side.
By 2020, he was ready to put down roots and buy something.
In September, with Covid raging, he found a 650-square-foot, one-bedroom workshop near Central Park. At the time, the working fireplace was the biggest attraction.
“I loved it when I saw it,” said Mr. Dillela, 40, the host of “On Stage,” a program about the theater scene on Spectrum News NY1. “It was comfortable, warm and had so much potential.”
He made an offer to the co-op board responsible for a row of 1880s houses in the 100 block of West 78th Street. The offer was accepted, and Mr. DiLella provided the board with the required package of documents, which in his case included a letter of recommendation from the famous choreographer, Tommy Tune, a professional friend. This was followed by a final Zoom interview with several board members in November.
Toward the end of that meeting, Andrea Rapaport, 56, a longtime landlord, asked if he knew about the hidden ceiling in his apartment.
He did not do it.
“I’ve only been told that this building was once two townhouses that were bought by someone in the 1960s and combined,” Mr. DiLella said.
Ms. Rapaport invited Mr. Dillela to see the ceiling in her apartment, and that’s when he was taken aback.
Ms. Rappaport bought a studio in 1994 and upgraded it to a one-bedroom in 2003. As her family expanded — she married and had two sons — so did her need for space. She bought an additional apartment above hers in 2016 and found the ‘arch treasure’ Rafael Guastavino when we renovated and combined the two apartments,” Ms Rapaport explained. “Everyone who lives in line A & D of one of the mansions seems to have these. I was pretty sure Frank had one too.”
Unfamiliar with Guastavino’s historical and artistic legacy and contributions to New York, Ms. Rapaport, a recruiting executive, did some research and discovered that he was responsible for designing some of the city’s most famous landmarks, including Carnegie Hall, the City Hall subway, the Grand Central Terminal’s famous Oyster Bar, the Cathedral of St. John the Divine and the Queensboro Bridge, among many others.
“Her ceiling was beautiful and it added another dimension to the room,” said Mr Dillela, who immediately felt ceiling envy. His lease expired in February. It was already the end of December. If it had a vault or a Guastavino vault, renovations would have to proceed quickly. “It would be an exciting, unexpected reward if I did. A piece of New York history.”
Mr. DiLella hired Ray Romano — a New York contractor, not the famous actor and comedian — to lead the project. After it hit the roof and a hollow vibration was heard, a hole was cut, large enough for Mr. Romano’s head and shoulders to pop through. Mirroring a porcupine looking for its shadow, what Mr. Romano saw was “jaw-dropping,” he said “It was a wonderful brick and stone archway with an old-school wrought iron border. It was like finding dinosaur bones.”
Mr. Romano, 61, owner of Raymond Romano Inc., who for the past 50 years has considered himself a designer-builder with a passion for history, had heard of Guastavino’s arches but had never seen one in person. “This was a magnificent work of art.”
Over the next two weeks, a crew lowered the ceiling in sections. Added hardener and sealer to protect existing mortar and brick. A matte finish was applied, matching the color of the bricks to maintain integrity and prevent further chipping. The wrought iron was sanded and restored.
When the renovation was complete, an additional four to five feet of height was reclaimed, which allowed Mr. Romano to create two bookcases, one on each side of a wall above Mr. DiLella’s open kitchen. Two 1940s Hollywood era projectors were installed to enhance the depth of the dome.
“This ceiling is like the beauty of New York. Breaking in and realizing that this is part of the history of the building is dramatic,” he said. “Walking into this space, when it’s lit up, it’s just amazing. Arches bring an unexpected height and make the apartment feel larger. Shades of light brown, red and orange come to life.”
Mr Dillela wondered, when “something so historic and beautiful had been created, why cover it up?” asked. This question remains unanswered.
Perhaps just as surprisingly, neither Mr. DiLella nor Ms. Rapaport have assessed their ceilings to see what additional value the found treasure might bring. “I feel like I’m living under a little piece of New York history,” Ms. Rappaport said. “It makes you feel like an archaeologist and gives us one more reason not to move.”
Mr Dilela agreed.
“I don’t know if I could give this up,” he said. Alfie, a rescue Chihuahua terrier that Mr. DiLella adopted during the early part of the pandemic and who sat next to him on his cognac-colored couch, looked as comfortable in the space as his owner. “Guastavino touched important parts of this city that I love. Now it has touched my house a little. It’s like a nod that I belong here.”