What it means to stay somewhere with a narrative is being subtly redefined by historic hotels across the United States. Although their exteriors may evoke the past, their interiors are incredibly successful at fusing innovation and legacy. These enterprises, some of which date back centuries, are realizing that they need to be more than nostalgic to survive. It requires vision.
Jenny Kimball from Santa Fe’s La Fonda on the Plaza is familiar with this difficulty. She says, “You try to be relevant to new generations while also honoring a hotel’s history.” Maintaining the original flavor while adding the kind of contemporary conveniences that tourists now demand is a tricky balance. Constructed in 1922, La Fonda masterfully strikes this balance: discrete technology guarantees a flawless visitor experience, while hand-painted headboards reflect the essence of early 20th-century New Mexico.
How Historic Hotels Are Reinventing Themselves for a New Era
| Category | Details |
|---|---|
| Focus | The modernization and preservation of heritage hotels adapting to contemporary travelers’ needs |
| Key Figures | Jenny Kimball (La Fonda on the Plaza), Katherine Malone-France (NTHP), Carlton Varney (The Greenbrier), Lolly Rash (Mississippi Heritage Trust) |
| Core Concepts | Adaptive reuse, sustainable restoration, cultural storytelling, design innovation |
| Notable Examples | La Fonda on the Plaza (Santa Fe), The Greenbrier (West Virginia), Terrace Plaza (Cincinnati), Sun-n-Sand (Mississippi), Statler Dallas (Texas) |
| Central Challenge | Balancing authenticity, financial sustainability, and modern comfort |
| Driving Factors | Evolving design standards, heritage tourism, environmental awareness, community impact |
| Preservation Strategy | Landmark protection, creative financing, local partnerships, adaptive design |
| Reference |
To ensure the survival of these icons, preservationists such as the National Trust for Historic Preservation (NTHP) are crucial. Katherine Malone-France, chief preservation officer for the Trust, says, “We seek out locations with rich histories that tell the whole story of the U.S.” Her remark reflects a larger trend toward inclusivity, acknowledging that history is not limited to opulent Victorian mansions but also exists in mid-century motels and modernist wonders that were formerly written off as antiquated.
Two of these establishments, the Sun-n-Sand Motor Hotel in Mississippi in 1960 and the Terrace Plaza Hotel in Cincinnati in 1948, were listed as endangered sites by the National Trust. Both had to endure years of uncertainty while juggling governmental red tape and apathy. For more than ten years, the Terrace Plaza, which previously included avant-garde design elements including computerized sleeper sofas and a painting by Joan Miró, has been closed. But the Cincinnati Preservation Association’s Paul Muller and other preservationists aren’t giving up. He compares the difficulty to “grandmother’s wedding dress syndrome,” which describes how taste changes over time and transforms something that was once considered commonplace into something remarkably unique.
Another tale is told by the Sun-n-Sand, which is well-known for its whimsical neon sign and ties to the Civil Rights Movement. Even though there were public initiatives to save it, it has now mostly been destroyed. Lolly Rash of the Mississippi Heritage Trust maintains that preservation is more than just feeling. “The goal is to ensure that these buildings have productive lives once more.” Her point is very clear: if history isn’t lived, it doesn’t mean much.
However, a few ancient hotels have effectively reimagined themselves to the point where they are now examples of adaptable excellence. One timeless example is the Greenbrier in West Virginia. It is well-known for its Dorothy Draper interiors from the 1940s, which feature vivid flowers, striking stripes, and unreserved glitz. It has changed via deliberate revitalization. It’s a house “built on personality,” according to designer Carlton Varney. The Greenbrier thrives on color and confidence, whereas more recent hotels choose austere color schemes. He observes that “a lot of today’s new hotels are just bedroom factories.” “Memories are still made at The Greenbrier.”
Reinvention is also motivated by economic necessity. Heritage property renovations are costly, but not always unaffordable. It is surprisingly attainable because to subsidies, tax advantages, and innovative funding. This is best illustrated by the 1956 Statler Dallas. Its original beauty was preserved during its $230 million rehabilitation, which included retail establishments, hotel rooms, and residences. To make it feasible, developers relied on municipal funding and historic tax credits. The result is especially inventive—a structure that embraces modern living while preserving historical integrity.
Bradford Hudson, a professor at Boston College, refers to this approach as “smart economics.” According to him, maintaining a heritage property can be far more cost-effective than building a new one, particularly when towns provide incentives to promote preservation. “Character is what draws guests,” he continues. “They’re paying for a story, not just a stay.”
This changing way of thinking isn’t limited to conventional hotels. Adaptive reuse is repurposing factories, breweries, and even cathedrals as boutique hotels. Originally built as industrial or religious buildings, the Cork Factory Hotel in Pennsylvania, the Hotel Emma in San Antonio, and the Line Hotel in Washington, D.C. According to Larry Horwitz of Historic Hotels of America, “they’re probably the greenest hotels you’ll find.” “It’s the ultimate form of recycling.” His statement highlights a reality: sustainability and preservation are remarkably similar endeavors that are both based on respect for the resources that are now available.
Adaptive use provides other options even in situations where hotels are no longer viable as places to stay. According to Muller, the character of older buildings is retained whether they are converted into residences, workplaces, or cultural venues. He asserts that history doesn’t always have to be preserved in amber. “You can allow it to develop.” This flexible approach has been especially helpful in ensuring that historic structures continue to function as active members of their communities rather just as artifacts.
The popularity of experiential travel has increased the movement’s significance. Younger tourists are drawn to destinations that combine history, design, and emotion. They prefer stories delivered through ancient brick and creaking staircases to marble lobbies. These visitors desire a sense of location and genuine experiences. Historic hotels do that through depth rather than ostentation.
Celebrities have contributed to the trend of preservation. Star power can elevate history, as seen by Robert De Niro’s engagement in The Greenwich Hotel and George Clooney’s renovation of Villa Oleandra in Italy. Because of their impact, preservation has become aspirational, demonstrating how easily authenticity and artistry may coexist.
Reviving old hotels has social benefits that go beyond just increasing tourists. These properties frequently serve as revitalization anchors in tiny towns. They bring in local investment, create jobs, and boost municipal pride. A renovated hotel is a declaration of continuity rather than merely a place to stay. Because these projects serve as a reminder of their common identity, communities come together in support of them.
However, preservation is never simple. Every project’s resilience is put to the test by aging infrastructure, climate-related issues, and changing economic conditions. Restoring a hotel frequently resembles resolving a puzzle in which each piece is both delicate and unique. But it has meaning because of that difficulties. These initiatives persist because they are legacies rather than just business ventures.
