ModernHaus SoHo is a home run: not least because its capacious rooms come with sublime skyline views (yes, every single room). Bauhaus-style aesthetics and museum-worthy artwork (by Kaws, George Condo and Harland Miller, to name a few) fill every corner, reflecting its edgy SoHo surroundings. The prime Manhattan location, moody Jimmy bar and 18th-floor pool parties mean that those wishing for a wild weekender in New York City need look no further.
Get this when you book through us:
Breakfast on the haus (up to $30 per guest per day)
12 noon. Earliest check-in is 3pm. Contact the hotel directly to purchase a guaranteed early check-in, if available.
Double rooms from £240.68 ($304), including tax at 14.75 per cent. Please note the hotel charges an additional local city tax of $3.50 per room per night on check-out and an additional resort fee of $51.64 per room per night on check-out.
An à la carte breakfast is on the haus when you book through us – served 7–11am in the chic Jumpin Jacks café.
There are rooms in each category that are wheelchair accessible, or suitable for hearing- or vision-impaired guests.
At the hotel
WiFi, fitness center, bikes to borrow, rooftop pool. In rooms: TV, Nespresso machine, tea-making facilities, mini fridge, triple-filtered water, Frette linens, robes and slippers, Le Labo toiletries
Our favourite rooms
There are no bad views at ModernHaus, but the dual-aspect skyline vistas from the corner studios are particularly special.
Skyscraper-level swims are encouraged at the rooftop pool, which is open 8am–4pm in summer. But the pool isn’t just for getting your laps in: Jimmy is famous for its weekend rooftop pool parties, fuelled by boozy watermelon frosé.
There’s a fitness room on the 17th floor (getting a sweat on is much more compelling with this view, trust us). It’s equipped with TechnoGym equipment, free weights and a Peloton bike; or you can practice your vinyasa flow high above the city at a rooftop yoga class. ModernHaus has partnered with Aire ancient baths for those wanting a unique wind-down: spend an afternoon relaxing in candlelit thermal baths, followed by a deep tissue massage.
Allow plenty of suitcase space for all your boutique buys and Bloomingdale’s bags (fashion lovers should probably just bring an extra case).
The museum-worthy artwork filling every corner of ModernHaus is from the personal collection of Jack Sitt, who oversaw the renovation of the hotel, including a seven-foot totem Kaws sculpture and a Harland Miller tapestry trio.
Very. Opt for the VIP (very important pet) offer ($75) for head-to-paw pampering for your pooch: including a dog bed and bowl, treats and 25 per cent off at nearby Pup Culture. See more pet-friendly hotels in New York.
We’re suckers for a circular table, especially when it means you have even more room for baskets of warm sourdough.
Sleek silhouettes year round, but balanced with oversized blazers in winter.
Veranda is a gastro-melting pot glass-greenhouse restaurant heralded by Michelin-starred chef George Mendes. The menu is seasonal, with nods to the cuisines of India, Mexico, the Middle East, and most notably Portugal, the ancestral home of chef Mendes. You’ll hear a lot of chatter about the piri-piri chicken, which is charcoal grilled and served with a green-herb dressing; and the bread basket – a lockdown sourdough-baking spur that actually paid off. The dining room gives a low-flying bird’s-eye view of the city, but the interiors are just as easy on the eye: wood panelling, strings of fairy lights and millennial-pink plant pots. Down on the third floor of the hotel is Jumpin Jacks, a chic all-day eatery and NYC coffee-culture staple. Pick up a cold brew and pastel de nata during the day, or grab a table at night, when the space transitions into an intimate cocktail bar.
Jimmy is the hotel’s main bar, known for drawing the crowds of Manhattan to its pool on weekends. Paint the town blue with a night spent lounging upon fire-side modular-blue leather sofas: the interiors are inspired by the moodiness and monochromatism of Picasso’s blue period. The floor-to-ceiling windows frame views of Midtown, Wall Street, and the Hudson River, but in summer you might head out to the open-air roof deck and settle in for the night on a cushy chaise longue. Wherever you’re sat, try the boozy watermelon frosé – a mix of Beluga vodka, Elouan rosé, and watermelon liqueur.
Dinner is served until 10pm in Veranda and Jumpin Jacks; Jimmy calls for last orders at midnight.
You’re more than welcome to refuel on your own time with in-room dining – be it a morning smoothie or three-course dinner – available from 6am to 11pm.
ModernHaus’s discreet entrance is on a quiet side street just off SoHo’s Sixth Avenue.
The closest airport is domestic hub Newark, a 45-minute drive from the hotel, but most international flights touch down at JFK. Contact our in-house travel team to book your transfers.
Canal street subway is a six-minute walk round the block; and longer-distance Amtrak trains run in and out of Penn Station, a 15-minute drive from the hotel.
We wouldn’t recommend it (unless you’ve got your yellow cab licence), especially as subway travel from the hotel is cheap and easy. If you’re desperate to steer through New York’s streets, however, then you can park up at Wooster Street Parking – a short, two-block walk from ModernHaus.
Worth getting out of bed for
SoHo earned National Historic Landmark status for good reason – its cast-iron buildings and cobblestone streets are filled with creative spirit. Combine culture and card-tapping at MoMa Design Store, or update your wardrobe at the hip boutiques and iconic Bloomingdale’s.
Indulge in champagne and a three-tiered seafood platter at Balthazar on Spring Street: a romantic brasserie that has become synonymous with SoHo. Make your brunch reservations at Public, a vast, loft-like space on Elizabeth Street serving stacks of sweet-and-savoury french toast. Osteria Morini’s truffled mascarpone ravioli is drizzled with melted butter and studded with prosciutto – reason enough to book one of the 98 seats available in the informal dining room. La Esquina is a favourite of grungy-glam New Yorkers in the know; come here for perfectly executed Mexican food in a restored 1950s diner car. If you're looking for a romantic dinner setting, ask for a cosy lamp-lit cover at Raoul’s, a small French brasserie serving platters of fruits de mer, crepes and moules frites.
Cronuts can be found at Dominique Ansel Bakery, where the cookie shots are just as delectable as they look. Joe’s Pizza has been going strong since 1979 – one bite of pie will explain why (but do expect to queue). Café Habana is just around the corner on Prince Street, serving Latin American and Mexican cuisine – try the corn on the cob (topped with cotija cheese, chilli powder, lime and mayo), washed down with a spicy cucumber jalapenõ margarita.
‘Life is short; drink early’ is the motto at locally loved Spring Lounge, so start your evening here with a beer, to a backdrop of shark paraphernalia. Here on a budget? Visit on Wednesdays for free hotdogs (5pm–7pm) and on Sundays for free bagels (from noon until sell-out). Sneak down the flight of stairs that leads to the wine bar at Peasant on Elizabeth Street: the cave-like atmosphere and flickering candlelight might have you thinking you’re in Tuscany, not the heart of SoHo. No New York boozer has been plying patrons with alcohol for longer than the Ear Inn. The building itself dates back to around 1817; stop in these days for chicken pot pie and a prohibition ice tea.
Six and a half years after we accidentally fell in love at a Bachelorette party, Mrs Smith – who was born in New York, and at 13-months-old taught herself to toddle out into Manhattan traffic and put her tiny arm out for a taxi – has just asked me to marry her.
A transatlantic love story, the proposal itself happened on a Ramsgate beach, but we’ve taken the tour on the road to celebrate with her family, and our first stop is a stay at the ModernHaus: a soaring Oscar Niemeyer-ish collision of angles and curves in Soho, where Grand meets Sixth.
The ModernHaus lobby is neat and gleaming, with two grand-scale Harland Millers peeking over our shoulders as we check in. ‘Hello!’ I say, then, offer it like my name: ‘She just asked me to marry her’, in a tone not un-like Monica from Friends shouting ‘I’m engaged!’ from her Greenwich Village balcony some 20 years ago.
If New Yorkers are known for being aloof, the staff at the ModernHaus never got the memo. They react to the news like we’ve been friends for decades, and over the two days we’re there, any cold feet we might have felt are swiftly submerged by the cold champagne that comes – seemingly endlessly – to our room.
A jet-speed lift takes us up to the 17th floor, a gold plaque with our door number winks us in. I can feel a smile tightening in my cheeks as I think about that moment. What makes ModernHaus extraordinary is it soars up 19 storeys into the sky – all glimmer, glass and board-formed concrete – from a low-rise, cobblestone Soho street. This gives it views around the city that can almost feel like CGI. And in our room, they haven’t just broken the fourth wall, they’ve broken the third wall too: half the room is window.
This city excels at delivering epic postcards to your eyes, and from the ModernHaus windows, there are so many postcards at once, it’s almost kaleidoscopic. City blocks cut like pizza slices, and shifting weather patterns – a departing storm on one side, an explosion of sun on the other. Workers balancing on steel beams which makes you think of famous photographs, helicopters like little darts across the sky, the repeated Z’s of wrought-iron fire escapes, and American flags waving like perfectly distributed geo-location tags.
From a chaise-longue by the window, whose blue is perfectly matched by a bright 1970 Calder above the bed, Mrs Smith narrates a little aerial tour – Uptown/Downtown, East Side/West Side, water towers/corporate towers – while I start to explore the room.
It’s gargantuan by New York standards. The bed fulfils its brief: to make you realise that sleeping on anything else is surely squandering your one short life. The soaps are Santal 33, the sheets are Frette, and the shower-head feels like a true all-guns-blazing New York downpour.
Happily, it’s a room that caters to exhibitionists of all risk levels. Even perpetual nudists, who are elevated enough to get away with whatever they want to show off scot-free. The glass wall of the bathroom lets you shower with a panorama view of the city, or you can choose privacy – or perhaps a middle-ground strip-tease? – with a Bond-like drop-down blind.
It’s a fitting place to be, because merely being in the room feels celebratory. We’re happy. We’re hungry. We drop down to the fourth floor Jumpin’ Jacks – a café by day, and cocktailed, candled affair by night – with its wavy windowed wall, and curve-hugging leather sofa like a many-fingered baseball glove.
It’s exactly where we want to be. The cocktails are bracing, the R’n’B is tender, and the New York strip steak, served in summer with snow peas, is exaggeratedly good. Syrup bottles look like stained glass against the bright lights of the bar, and striking, subtly psychedelic paintings are hung with a serious curator’s eye against sleek wood panelling.
Downstairs at the hotel’s main restaurant Veranda, you can expect an X-marks-the-eyes Kaws, an eye-popping George Condo piece and much more: all original works pulled from co-owner Jack J Sitt’s personal collection, which turn restaurants and corridors into something closer to a contemporary art gallery.
After dinner, we whip up to Jimmy’s, the hotel’s rooftop bar, to sit by its jewel of a pool that somehow always looks iridescent. Beyond the royal blue sun loungers and drum-like teak stools, the views double once again, because at night, the skyline is another thing altogether. More pinks than you’d expect, more blues, and – in August – more heat, and that beautiful, billion-window sense that anything could happen.
I should admit: I have sometimes been unsure about New York. I’ve thought of it like seasoning or salt, intensifying whatever emotion I’m feeling, good or bad. The last time I was staying in the city I walked through a dingy bit of town and wrote a very sad note in my diary: ‘windows very small and smudgy’ (I think I was depressed). I also think I should have (got engaged to the love of my life and) stayed at the ModernHaus.
It’s the sense of utmost peace – who knew state-of-the-art soundproofing could be so sexy? – in one of the busiest cities on earth. Also: the sense of ease. The front desk staff feel more like old-school Upper West Side condo doormen, who after a few days you feel like you have known for years. Altogether, it creates a sleight of hand – through care and kindness – that makes its slice of real estate in chi-chi Soho feel effortlessly, beautifully, like home.
I don’t know if you’ve ever heard the Judy Garland song ‘I Happen to like New York’, but I would recommend playing it now, and at most moments throughout the day when you’re there.
It’s at once happy and haunting, crinkly and twinkling. It rocks back and forth, and builds, making its case perfectly…
‘I happen to like New York, I happen to love this town
I like the city air, I like to drink of it
The more I see New York, the more I think of it’
It’s the ideal soundtrack to a glass-walled room in the centre of it all.