The Stanhope : IF MONEY DOESN’T MATTER

It is known as Mr. Guterman’s dream house.

Indeed, a dream for none other than Gerald Guterman Esq., the noted New York land baron who once worked as a porter for Donald Trump’s father and who, during the past 10 years, is credited with converting more than 6,000 weary apartments scattered across New York into fashionable condominiums and cooperatives.

In this case, however, his joy isn’t showered upon some shabby fixer-upper but a hotel of distinction (and one of Manhattan’s more expensive addresses). Gerald Guterman’s dream house is the venerable Stanhope Hotel on Millionaires’ Row directly across the street from the imposing Metropolitan Museum of Art at Fifth Avenue and 81st Street.

After purchasing the hotel for $19.6 million, the 44-year-old Guterman (he grew up in East Flatbush) spent another $25 million converting the 61-year-old, 16-story hotel into the American counterpart of the “finest little hotel London has to offer, namely the Connaught.”

In the beginning the address was known as one of “supreme distinction, a property removed from the crush of the city,” as it still is. While renovating the hotel, Guterman cautiously avoided tampering with the personality of the property. Its entrance remains unobtrusive, keeping with the dignity of the neighborhood in which the hotel remains a landmark.

Up and down Fifth Avenue, on either side of the Stanhope, imposing buildings have stood since the era of the horse carriage, a gracious period of refined living when gowned ladies and their escorts in black tie crowded the hotel’s fashionable public rooms.

It was the original owner’s intention to create in every detail the sense of a distinguished private house. Windows faced Central Park and walls were paneled in rich oak. Each apartment was decorated differently, a tradition carried on by Guterman.

Stepping through the door of the Stanhope, Guterman insists, is like entering the warmth of London’s Connaught, which is precisely what Guterman had in mind when he commissioned decorator Shelley Azapian to work her magic on the Stanhope.

Guterman, who had already invested in hotels in Europe, told Azapian he wanted the Stanhope to reflect the opulence and graciousness not only of the Connaught but of the Imperial in Vienna and the Crillon and the Ritz in Paris.

The recently departed mistress of the Stanhope, Mimi Russell (daughter of Lady Sarah Spencer-Churchill), had transformed the Stanhope into a bastion of Victoriana. The hotel was crowded with both Empire and Victorian pieces--solid mahogany chests, pedestal tables and velvet rockers. Walls were hung with so many Hudson River paintings that the hotel was considered a mini-museum. In her enthusiasm, Mimi Russell laid claim to the largest collection of 19th-Century Americana antiques in the nation.

Then along came Guterman, who, in a single afternoon, tossed out everything--furnishings and paintings alike. Everything was placed on the auction block. Guterman sold every armoire, every Tiffany lamp, every oil, every knife and fork.

By nightfall the hotel was empty. A shell. In place of the Victorian trappings he hung baccarat crystal chandeliers and ordered truckloads of Louis XV period furniture along with 24-carat gold-rim caraline Limoges cups and saucers, Ercuis sterling silver, Fitz & Floyd china and crystal glassware.

He brought in an artist to do a trompe l’oeil ceiling in one of the salons. Carpets loomed in Britain were laid and walls were swathed in silk.

Guterman spent $300,000 alone on uniforms for his employees.

Until 4 p.m. guests are received by a staff in morning attire, after which they appear in tuxedos while waiters stand by in tails and maids and waitresses serve guests in designer uniforms that complement the richness of Guterman’s hotel. To avoid the risk of offending a guest, Guterman requires each member of his staff to carry (and use) a mouthwash. The dress code for guests is similarly strict. Jeans are out; coats and ties, and appropriate dresses for the ladies are in.

Stefan Simkovics, the hotel’s general manager, graduated to the Stanhope from hotels in Europe, including the Barclay in London, the Imperial and the Ritz, where he hosted the likes of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, Coco Chanel and Salvador Dali, among others.

No two guest rooms at the Stanhope are alike. Each of the 118 suites and rooms is decorated differently to express the sense of a treasured hotel of the sort found only in Europe.

Baths contain Chanel perfumes, soaps and shampoos valued at $50, which guests are encouraged to slip into their luggage when checking out. On the other hand, designer robes are strictly for use in one’s room unless the guest prefers to purchase one of the garments, in which case another $120 is added to the bill. (One may even buy the telephone for an extra $240.)

The hotel provides 24-hour shoeshine service and does the guests’ laundry overnight. Television sets feature 36 channels and each room is equipped with a clock radio as well as tape decks, with extra tapes available at the reception desk. There are individual safes, morning newspapers, remote control hair dryers and roses that add flair to the bath.

Other fresh flowers are delivered daily, so that the Stanhope’s floral bill runs to a hefty $3,000 a week.

It goes without saying that such luxury and pampering makes heavy demands on the wallet and purse. Rooms fetch $275 to $325 a day, suites go from $350 to $925 and the penthouse figures out to $2,000. Guterman and Simkovics insist that no other hotel in the world demands a higher average daily rate.

But why brood over price? What is cost to guests who travel by the Concorde or arrive at JFK aboard their own jets? Besides, isn’t it worth the heavy tab considering the service and amenities, Guterman asks. When a guest called for a full-length mirror for her room, it was delivered in less than 10 minutes. The chap in tails was even quicker, responding with a coffee percolator requested by another patron.

Besides room keys, guests are given an elevator key that sends the lift to their own individual floor.

Because the Stanhope is somewhat off the beaten path, the hotel operates a fleet of limousines round the clock to deliver guests to mid-town Manhattan each morning as well as Lincoln Center, Carnegie Hall and the theater district each evening.

Concierge Michael T. Gafford--he speaks half a dozen languages--volunteers to obtain tickets to one’s favorite play, hire a private limousine or jet, bring in a baby sitter or a masseuse or masseur. (In the case of Morocco’s King Hassan the royal guest arrived with his own masseur.)

In a cozy corner just off the lobby, waiters, frequently more fashionably dressed than the guests, serve a continental breakfast each morning and high tea (with a selection of 14 brands) in the afternoon.

And there is the small, oak-paneled corner named Gerard’s with its book-lined walls and deep sofas where cocktails, hors d’oeuvres and snacks (marinated salmon on toast: $14) are served in an atmosphere reminiscent of a certain salon at Brown’s in London.

Chefs imported from Europe provide an impressive selection of hot and cold appetizers and entrees in the hotel’s restaurant, which Guterman simply calls “The Dining Room.” It sparkles with baccarat chandeliers, with draperies that fall in rich folds from the windows. Murals by Robert Jackson (his works grace the walls of the White House) are also in evidence.

An Impressive Restaurant

There are those who insist that no more impressive restaurant exists in all New York. The menu lists Belon oysters on chesterbread, consomme of venison, lobster bisque with cognac, potato pancakes with Beluga caviar, roasted quail, rack of lamb with wild mushrooms, venison with juniper berries, veal with morels and a host of other selections.

It’s all bloody expensive, of course. Service is a la carte. Scrambled eggs with black and white truffles figure out to $28, orange juice is $5 a pop and a bowl of dry cereal will add another $6 to the bill.

When the weather is pleasant, guests dine on the terrace, which Guterman insists is “New York’s most sophisticated outdoor cafe.”

Here guests study crowds across the street at the Metropolitan Museum of Art; traffic flows along one of the world’s richest arteries and Central Park with its jogging paths is only steps away.

Groomed to Taste

Without question, the Stanhope has always been groomed to attract guests of discriminating taste. During 61 years it has provided shelter for celebrities and heads of state: Princess Grace, Golda Meir, the Agha Khan, Maria Callas and others.

Their spirits, along with those of the Vanderbilts, the Whitneys and the Dukes, mingle with guests who seek the sort of world George M. Cohan put to song during an era when service still made New York shine.

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The Stanhope, 995 Fifth Ave., New York 10028. Telephone (212) 288-5800. Rates: $275/$325. Suites: $350/$2,000.

For moderately priced accommodations: The Wyndham, 42 West 58th St., New York 10019. Telephone (212) 753-3500. Rates: $95/$120.

For a list of other hotels write to the New York Convention & Visitors Bureau, 2 Columbus Circle, New York, N.Y. 10019. Telephone (212) 397-8200.