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Flaco, whose much-photographed adventures around Manhattan made him a star, is the subject of a museum show.

He swooped, perched, posed like a pro with his piercing eyes — and he captivated New Yorkers. Now Flaco, the Eurasian eagle-owl whose escape from Central Park Zoo and much-photographed adventures around Manhattan made him a star, is the subject of a museum show.

The Year of Flaco opens at New York Historical on February 7, two years after the 13-year-old owl escaped the zoo after a still-unidentified person breached his enclosure, and almost a year to the day, February 23, 2024, that he was found dead — after a spectacular year on the lam — in the courtyard of an apartment building on the Upper West Side.

Throughout that year Flaco (pronounced Flah-co) delighted fans while hunting rats, hanging in Central Park, wandering outside Bergdorf Goodman, and looking majestically inquisitive perched on air conditioning units and apartment ledges.

New Yorkers cheered on the owl and his swaggering fight for survival. David Barrett, creator of @BirdCentralPark, the X account that introduced Flaco to the public and provided daily coverage during his year of freedom, recalled being once so close to Flaco that he felt the wind generated by his wings on his neck.

“Flaco brought joy and inspiration to New Yorkers and people all over the world,” Barrett told The Times.

“Flaco was a migrant, flamboyant, an outsider — and New Yorkers love rooting for the underdog,” Jessica Wilson, executive director of NYC Bird Alliance, said. The exhibition showcases 31 photographs of Flaco, and 70 objects — including poems, letters and drawings — that were left at his memorial, as well as Flaco-themed merchandise. One woman’s letter reveals how Flaco had helped alleviate her depression and given her the confidence to apply to law school.

“Flaco was a cypher and symbol into which people poured all kinds of meaning,” the curator, Rebecca Klassen, said. “He was a folk hero.”

Valerie Hartman, a Flaco fan who suggested the idea for the show, helped collect the memorial objects “to make sure he was remembered.” Hartman, an avid runner turned passionate birder, said her most treasured pictures were of Flaco peering through ivy and preparing to take flight.

“Flaco quickly learned outside captivity how to fly and hunt,” Barrett said. “His hoots were beautiful and helped people find out where he was.”

The problem, Barrett said, came when Flaco left Central Park, and flew downtown to the East Village and Lower East Side. There, the prey he ate would help kill him.

A necropsy conducted after Flaco’s death showed its immediate cause was due to acute trauma, likely from a building collision. But Flaco also had pigeon herpes and a high level of rat poison in his blood caused by eating rats who had ingested rodenticides. “Rodenticides are not that effective at controlling the rodent population and are deadly for birds that prey on rats,” said Wilson

“I’m very sad Flaco died, but glad he had that last year of life,” Barrett said, “He finally lived the life of a wild owl and bought joy to so many doing it.”

Today, Flaco’s name graces several legislative bills intended to reduce bird collisions, “such as requiring buildings to turn off non-essential lights at night and using bird-friendly glass,” said Wilson. NYC birders today are enjoying the presence of four rare long-eared owls in Central Park. More owls may be seen as spring migration progresses, Barrett said.

“At a time when we are so divided, Flaco bought people together,” said Hartman. “Flaco’s story also reminds New Yorkers that we share our space with wonderful creatures. We should support and learn from them.”