The Morgan Library & Museum

The year is 1902, and America's most powerful financier is standing on Madison Avenue at 36th Street, rejecting his architect's grand design because it looks too much like a tomb. J.P. Morgan has just told Charles McKim to abandon the white marble... he wants Tennessee pink marble instead, after his neighbor warned that white stone would make his private library look like a mausoleum. As you face this Renaissance palazzo today, you're looking at what McKim called Morgan's "gem" - but notice how those marble blocks fit together with almost no mortar between them. McKim used an ancient Greek technique called anathyrosis, where stones are carved to fit so precisely they support each other. The six Doric pilasters marching across the facade aren't just decoration - they reveal the interior's organization, each one marking a different room inside. That sculpted lunette above the bronze entrance doors holds a secret most visitors miss - it displays the logo of Aldus Manutius, the Renaissance printer who created the italic typeface. Morgan chose this symbol to announce his library's scholarly mission before you even step inside. When those bronze doors open, you'll enter three magnificent rooms that once held conversations between Morgan and presidents, where he orchestrated financial rescues that saved America from economic collapse. This intimate palazzo became so culturally important that in 1924, his son gave it all away - transforming private treasure into public legacy in one of America's most generous cultural gifts.