Rockaway Ocean Club: The Art Deco Icon That’s Restoring the New York Coastline to Its Former Glory

Rockaway Ocean Club art deco
Photo © Architectural Digest — via https://www.architecturaldigest.com/story/rockaway-beach-new-yorkers-favorite-escape-sees-creative-resurgence

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New York isn’t just a jungle of glass and steel, a concrete grid where people wear themselves out pounding the pavement. It is—as we too often forget amid Midtown’s skyscrapers—an archipelago. With nearly 850 kilometers of coastline—a length that far exceeds that of San Francisco, Los Angeles, Miami, and Boston combined—the metropolis maintains an intimate, if sometimes overlooked, relationship with the Atlantic. On the Rockaway Peninsula in Queens, this maritime reality is now reclaiming its rightful place in the most spectacular way possible. At Jacob Riis Park, where salty sea spray lashes the Art Deco facades, a sleeping giant is awakening. The Rockaway Ocean Club has just unveiled its first phase, marking the start of an $88 million (approximately 76 million euros) renaissance for the historic Jacob Riis Bathhouse.

The setting, as summer draws to a close, seems light-years away from the frenetic pace of Manhattan. At the Courtyard, the event space located just steps from the boardwalk, the atmosphere is both laid-back and electric. Lobster rolls are served as music flows from the speakers, carried by a sea breeze that makes you forget the city’s humidity. For Ursula Damani, one of the project’s founding partners, the surprise is constant: even New Yorkers who have lived here since the 1970s were unaware of the existence of this seaside gem. The site, long hidden behind hoardings, is emerging from half a century of silence. What was once a playground for the working class is finding a new purpose, but in a hybrid form, adapted to the demands of 2026.

A Sandcastle of Brick and Concrete

The history of this building is one of unfulfilled ambition. Designed in 1930 by architect John L. Plock, the Jacob Riis Bathhouse was originally an ode to the democratization of recreation. Ursula Damani likes to compare it to a “sandcastle by the ocean.” In its heyday, the building featured changing rooms, subsidized showers, a solarium, and even an open-air dance floor. This was the era when Robert Moses, the powerful parks commissioner, was building large-scale infrastructure projects to offer citizens an escape from the urban heat. But the dream came to an end in 1972. Caught between mismanagement and chronic disinvestment by a city then on the brink of bankruptcy, the facility closed its doors. Placed under federal control by the National Park Service, the building remained barricaded for fifty years due to a lack of public funding for its restoration.

The rescue ultimately came from the private sector, with developer CBSK leading the charge. Bringing such a structure back to life was no easy feat. It took nearly a decade to complete this first phase, amid administrative red tape—Ursula Damani jokes about the number of government acronyms she had to navigate—and delays caused by the pandemic. The current result includes a café on the boardwalk and the famous Courtyard, complemented by a pool lined with striped lounge chairs—an aesthetic nod to the shores of Northern Italy. Next year, the project will ramp up with the opening of a 28-room hotel, four dining venues, and members-only spaces on the first floor.

The Tension Between Privatization and Public Service

The opening of the Rockaway Ocean Club has not been without controversy or debate. In a neighborhood where incomes are modest, the arrival of a private club raises legitimate concerns. Jacob Riis Park has historically been nicknamed “the people’s beach,” and the very idea of restricting access to part of the park through a membership has sparked waves of online criticism, with some even calling for a boycott. The issue of gentrification looms over every square meter of restored brick. Yet Ursula Damani and her teams deny any unchecked privatization. She points out that the building has always charged admission in the past and emphasizes a strict division: 60% of the site will remain accessible to everyone, notably the entire ground floor along the boardwalk. The remaining 40% is reserved for members, with a preferential rate starting at $1,000 per year for local residents.

On the ground, opinions are divided. At the launch, a resident from Gravesend, Brooklyn, expressed his fear that the neighborhood’s soul would disappear, while another remained optimistic, convinced that the change would be beneficial. For Pierre Antoine Dourneau, the club’s chief operating officer and a former Soho House executive, local integration is key to the club’s survival. He doesn’t see himself as an intruder, but as a neighbor who must prove himself. His ambition goes beyond seaside luxury: he plans to organize swimming lessons for local children and set up a farmers’ market to address the lack of quality food stores in this area, which he describes as a “food desert.”

A City Rediscovering Its Shores

This project is part of a broader movement to reclaim New York’s waterways. For decades, the city’s rivers and canals were treated as industrial dumping grounds or outlets for wastewater. The Gowanus Canal in Brooklyn remains one of the most polluted sites in the country, and swimming in the Hudson or the East River is still prohibited for now. But the situation is changing under the pressure of climate change. With increasingly scorching summers and prolonged heat waves, New York has a vital need for “cooling areas.” City and state authorities have recognized this, investing heavily in historic water recreation infrastructure.

For example, the East Bathhouse at Jones Beach on Long Island has reopened after a $100 million investment. In the Bronx, the Orchard Beach Pavilion has also undergone a $114 million renovation. Even Manhattan is giving it a try with the +Pool project, a floating, water-filtering pool currently being tested near Pier 35. In this context, the rebirth of the Jacob Riis Bathhouse is much more than a luxury real estate project: it’s a return to its roots for a city that had turned its back on its waterfront. By extending the season from mid-spring to early fall and organizing events like pumpkin picking in October, the club hopes to transform this strip of land into a year-round destination.

The success of the Rockaway Ocean Club will depend on its ability to maintain this delicate balance between economic exclusivity and social utility. For now, perhaps what matters most lies elsewhere: in that rediscovered sensation of being able to gaze at the Manhattan skyline while standing with your feet in the sand. It’s a necessary reminder to eight million city dwellers: New York is, and will remain, a seaside city. A truth that Jacob Riis’s project is finally bringing back to the forefront of the urban landscape.