The Hotels That Were Better Before They Were Renovated
There is a particular tragedy in watching a beloved hotel undergo renovation and emerge as a shinier, blander version of itself. The worn leather armchairs replaced by design-magazine sofas. The eccentric concierge retired in favor of an iPad check-in. The dark-paneled bar, where the barman knew your drink by your third visit, gutted and reborn as a 'concept lounge' with exposed bulbs and craft cocktails served in mason jars.
The Gritti Palace in Venice reopened in 2013 after a reported fifty-million-dollar renovation that preserved its fifteenth-century facade while modernizing its interiors. The work was thoughtful, but something ineffable was lost — the slightly shabby grandeur that made it feel like a noble family's crumbling palazzo rather than a luxury brand's showpiece. The patina of age, once removed, cannot be reapplied. The new Gritti is excellent; the old Gritti had soul.
The Chateau Marmont in Los Angeles maintained its legendary mystique precisely because it resisted renovation for decades. The slightly threadbare furnishings, the dim lighting, the Gothic Revival architecture left largely untouched since the 1950s — these imperfections were the point. When rooms finally received updates, the management understood that preserving the atmosphere of benign neglect mattered more than installing rainfall showerheads.
London's Savoy, after its 2010 refit, retained its Art Deco grandeur in the public spaces but modernized the rooms into something pleasant yet indistinguishable from a dozen other luxury hotels. The American Bar survived — it would have been vandalism to touch it — but the corridors lost the slightly ghostly quality that came from knowing Monet painted Thames views from these windows and Oscar Wilde ordered champagne in these halls.
The lesson for hoteliers is that renovation should preserve character, not replace it. The Aman Tokyo, which opened new rather than renovated, understood this instinctively — its minimalism is original, not imposed. But when an old hotel strips away its accumulated personality in pursuit of contemporary taste, it loses the thing that made guests return. A review of heritage hotel preservation approaches appears at https://www.cntraveler.com in their ongoing coverage of hotel restorations.
What guests want from a great hotel is not perfection but personality. The creaking floorboard in the corridor, the heavy key rather than the key card, the slightly eccentric breakfast room where the waiter has worked for thirty years — these are the details that transform accommodation into experience. Renovate the plumbing, by all means. Upgrade the mattresses. But leave the soul alone.
The hotels we remember are the ones that felt like places rather than products. When you find one that still resists the temptation to modernize away its character, book it repeatedly and tell no one. It will not last forever. The renovation team is always coming.
