From mermaids at Venetian to mosaics in Miami, take a deep dive into iconic pools across South Florida.
For so many, Miami is synonymous with Art Deco. Cue flickering (1930s-original) neon lights atop maritime inspired facades with murals that tell stories tracing South Florida life back to the days of Julia Tuttle herself. But the reality is that we can’t actually look to 1925 for any evidence of Deco’s influence in Miami.

The earliest the style, at least in terms of the aesthetic we’ve come to know as Deco, really took root in the 1930s following the reconstruction period in the wake of the cataclysmic 1926 Hurricane. In the 20s, the prevailing styles were Mediterranean Revival and Mediterranean Moderne (a far cry from the sleek geometries boasted by Deco cousins abroad). `
So, as with all things 305, Deco runs on Miami time.
I’ve had the sheer luck that so many of my clients (see Bakehouse Art Complex, ceramicist Lauren Shapiro, and artist Philip Lique) are Miami history aficionados and have sparked a newfound interest in tracing our unique and oft-overlooked history.
So what, if not Deco, can we trace to 1925, you ask?
The Miami Freedom Tower.

This, for me, feels apropos of our inaugural newsletter edition. As a Cuban American (orgullosa of her caribeña roots) who fancies herself a pre-eminent South Florida publicist, this building seems to hit all the high points for me.
The Tower was originally constructed to house The Miami Daily News and Metropolis, which eventually became The Miami News.

I’ll fight my inner desire to trace the rabbit hole of connections from New York to Palm Beach to Havana (its renowned Schultze and Weave architects erected legacy, iconic buildings wherever they touched down) to skip ahead to its notorious role in the Cuban refugio. In the years after 1959 when Cubans, like my grandparents, fled the nascent Castro regime for the United States, many were aided by the new federal Cuban Assistance Program which was now housed in the newly dubbed Freedom Tower.

As with all things, this era too came to an end and the building fell into a chapter of disrepair and uncertainty. Flash forward to the early aughts (where my millennial memory kicks in) and the Free Tower was the site for the memorial of our revered Celia Cruz, la Reina de Salsa.

Today, Miami Dade College is the steward of this landmarked building, which this year reopens with vigor anew after an extensive revitalization project.
And so, while the Deco-buff in me laments that “Miami time” does in fact appear to be a systemic, ingrained trait of us sunbaked Floridians, this paseo through Miami history has yielded too many synergies to be left untold.
Pleased to re-make your acquaintance my Deco-era, Freedom Tower friend. May you shine brightly in all your Mediterranean Revival glory.