Vox Student Blog

Andrea Sofia R. Matos is a junior majoring in Art History with a minor in Photography at Florida International University. Passionate for the art and culture of the Caribbean, Latin America, and the African Diaspora, she aspires to be a curator. She has had the privilege of working with various art institutions in Miami and Puerto Rico, which have challenged her visual literacy and exposed her to the contemporary art scene. As part of Art Society Conflict, Andrea desires to expand her knowledge in art and the history of Florida’s most vibrant city.

Deering as Text

“To Belong,” by Andrea S. Rodriguez Matos of FIU at Deering Estate on September 9, 2020.

Every generation is tackled with the exhausting question of identity, communal belonging to specific coordinates. Most of our life, we are told to affirm with conviction the “inherent” character of the spiritual practice, class, and community we are linked to. As we navigated through the outdoors of the estate, I found myself wondering how one could possibly engage the idea of identity in a land of so many. This terrain saw Paleo-Indian’s hunt. It observed how the Tequesta created tools and pottery and witnessed Seminole blood spilled in a gruesome war. These acres watched as European colonizers settled, as runaway slaves of the Caribbean took shelter, and as it was later purchased by the Richmond and Deering families.

To further layer the identity question to this experience, we made our way into the structures located on-site. We paced towards a Spanish inspired villa through roman archways with decorated capitals of distinctive tropical animals whose exterior holds beautifully sculpted Islamic arches. We find ourselves in a room with a checkered floor and a high ceiling, the very room which once hung paintings by Rembrandt and El Greco in its walls. As we continued the tour of this magical space, we were guided into a dark room with French-inspired catholic mosaics—these lit up the room just enough to see the Chinese artifacts in the adjacent wall. 

The director of the Deering Estate, Jennifer Tisthammer, invited us to the rooftop that oversees a fantastic view of the estate and Biscayne Bay. She asks us another question I don’t have the answer to, the problem of preservation. Who decides what’s important enough to conserve and what is not? Who are we to say markings found on red ceramic roof tiles aren’t just as important as paintings only a floor below?

Failing to fathom how such a wide range of cultures, histories, and ideas have met within the 18-inch poured concrete walls, we sneak into the second structure. This wooden cottage breathes every time you take a step within it. One can almost hear the footsteps of the hundreds of travelers looking for comfort some 90 years ago. Science and religion coexist once we walk through a narrow hallway filled with botanical drawings of native plants that leads us to the kitchen. And right in the middle, the kitchen keeps a framed white and blue Spanish tile mosaic.

Eventually, I can process some of the information as we make our way to our destination, a Chinese bridge built by Afro-Bahamian workers. Only to remember that in an explosion gone wrong at the People’s Dock just south of the Estate, six of these very workers died, which nobody chose to recognize or honor. I stood still in the middle of the colorful bridge piecing the experience, the histories, and the cultures together little by little as we stared into the wilderness. 

Yet, the question stands, who are we amidst this cultural fusion? Can anybody belong in the very soil who remembers Paleo-Indians hunting and the Tequesta gathering? It’s amidst this identity crisis where the answer lies. It’s the freedom our young bodies feel when we parade through these paths without fully grasping the absurdity of this terrain’s massive historical exchange. In a land so diverse, we all belong. 

South Beach as Text

“The Glamour Facade”, by Andrea S. Rodriguez Matos of FIU at South Beach Walking Tour on September 23, 2020. 

When they teach us about segregation, they often talk about the subject as if it happened in a time far from our own. Little emphasis is given to the closeness of the “Black Codes” and “Jim Crow” laws —which existed for about 100 years, from the post-Civil War era until 1968, only 52 years ago—that openly discriminated African Americans and other nonwhite groups. It is uncommon to sit through a lecture that explicitly informs us of the policies that ensured black people and their fellow third-class citizens could not achieve the progress they were promised and would not benefit from the “American dream.”

This deliberate ignorance has blinded us from the contemporary violations of civic rights and the microaggressions that continue to haunt the marginalized groups in our society. We often forget that through the exploitation and underpaid labor of black and brown bodies, the very cities and attractions we now enjoy were built.

The City of Miami Beach is home to various cultural and artistic attractions such as museums, artist residencies, Art Basel, and Art Deco architecture’s most extensive collection globally. Its vibrant nightlife, with regularly packed live music venues, restaurants, and bars only steps away from the beach, makes this city one of the most visited destinations. However, concealed behind its flashy neon signs and liberal flags is a long and repulsive history of discrimination. 

Destroyed of its original blooming ecosystem of sandbars and mangroves lead by white upper-class businessmen with a god complex, Miami Beach is a perfect example of a city that was never meant to be. Laborers worked under severe conditions to clear the mangroves, deepen the water channels surrounding it and fill the area with sand and soil found elsewhere. This brief recollection helps us understand the lengths the ambitions of men will go to ensure a life of glamor, even at the expense of its community and environment. 

Ever since the first constructions begun in Miami Beach, segregation laws permitted African Americans’ expulsion from its borders. African Americans could only enter in two conditions: as a worker or entertainer, and even then, they were not allowed to live in the municipality. Black tourists could not stay at the hotels on the beach and would only be permitted on specific beaches and others only on Mondays. Jews were another marginalized group that suffered maltreatment. Their skin color allowed them access to buy properties and visit beaches, hotels, restaurants, and other venues but restricted them doing so only south of 5th street. 

Recent events in our sociopolitical climate have unearthed that racism and xenophobia are issues that haven’t been appropriately solved or given the necessary attention. To this day, north of 5th street continues to be an area privileged by the presence of heavily guarded police and many active maintenance and custodian teams, more so than in the south. So, as we paraded through the empty streets of Ocean Drive, it was evident that even 52 years after the end of Jim Crow, we still have a long way to go and a lot of work to do.

Bakehouse as Text

“The Parallels of Art and Science” by Andrea S. Rodriguez Matos of FIU at Bakehouse Art Complex on October 7, 2020.

The minute we walked into the gallery, we came across giant wooden structures scattered all around the space. This site-specific installation, titled “Future Pacific,” is a work in-the-making by Miami-based artist Lauren Shapiro housed in the Bakehouse Art Complex. Shapiro’s project develops as a collaboration with the research of marine ecologist Dr. Nyssa Silbiger, whose objective is to create urgency for preserving the coral reef’s essential role for the environment. Academia often makes science and art into diametrical oppositions, but Shapiro and Silbiger are looking to enhance each other’s practice to preserve the most important aquatic species.

Shapiro’s practice focuses on viewing the parallels of art and science to create an interactive exhibition that enhances the environmental literacy of the community. Typically, museums and gallery spaces prohibit physical interaction with any exhibition or artwork, yet here we are encouraged to participate and get our hands dirty. There were no restrictions; we were free to explore the different possibilities the materials allow us. Our job was to press the clay into the silicone molds of coral skeletons and reef animal bones to adhere to the big wooden structures that, when finished, will transform into an artistic representation of a fossilized coral reef.

Shapiro invited us to view her studio where buckets of new and old clay filled the entirety of the space. It was interesting to see her whole process, from making the clay to the final product of 100% recycled material. Moreover, it allowed us to immerse ourselves personally, not just in the artmaking, but also in the artist’s daily routine. 

We conversed about the oceans’ importance and the harmful impact our everyday activities cause during our time there. I distinctively remember Professor Bailly tells us: “If trees are the lungs of the earth, coral reefs are the lungs of the ocean,” this statement got me thinking about the issue of deforestation and how we are doing the same to our oceans.  We live in a connected world, yet we have chosen to disassociate and ignore the damage we have caused. I am proud to have been part of a project that asked of its participants to be more conscious of the environment and demanded us to do introspection in how we contribute to the destruction of our marine ecosystems.  

Rubell as Text

“Museum Magic,” by Andrea S. Rodriguez Matos of FIU at Rubell Museum on October 21, 2020.

The art world is like the human body, where different parts with different functions ultimately come together to experience life. Similarly, the art world is an industry that divides itself into three major components: the art market, art institutions (both private and public), and academia. People often like to keep these three sections separate, unable to coexist, yet most don’t understand that, like the body, they collaborate to perform as efficiently as possible.

The formerly called Rubell Family Collection is a private art collection located in Miami, Florida, that began with the joined efforts of Don and Mera Rubell 54 years ago. The Rubell Museum is one of the world’s most significant contemporary art collections and a first-rate example of synthesizing the three major components within the art world.  The Rubell’s acquire the artworks through the private art market, which gives them the freedom to display and champion artists they believe in and are seminal to the city’s cultural development and the world. To emphasize their public mission, the museum has implemented programs that invite local students to engage with the art and artists. It welcomes art historians, curators, and artists to participate in their internships and artists’ residencies. I believe it is through this fusion that the Rubell Museum succeeds.

The museum’s diverse and generous selection of artists from different countries and ethnic backgrounds was one of the most impressive things to behold. Given the grandeur of the 36 galleries within the museum, it’s not a surprise that the collection houses grand installations and hundred-foot paintings. Never shying from a controversial topic, the museum holds many shocking pieces that would not be viewed elsewhere if it were not for the private acquisition.

Since our lives became consumed by the pandemic, I had not visited a museum, and, as a regular museum-goer, this was an emotional trip. As cliché, as it sounds art, has always been an encouraging force throughout my life, and in these months of isolation, I had forgotten just how much life art grants me. Walking through the carefully curated walls is magical to me; it transports me to another universe. At that moment, the museum becomes the gatekeeper to different worlds, where numerous stories are allowed space for others to see, and that, to me, is the power of art.

Deering Hike as Text

“A Breath of the Wild,” by Andrea S. Rodríguez Matos of FIU at Deering Estate on November 3, 2020.

On Wednesday morning, I woke up with many worries on my mind and found it hard to breathe. Crumbling anxiety from the United States Presidential Election and the coronavirus pandemic’s months-long concerns invaded my mind restlessly. Once I was able to catch my breath I realized it was finally the day I would venture through the Deering Estate’s magical ecosystems.

We often forget that the ground we walk on has been touched by thousands, if not millions of people, from the Paleo-Indians to the Afro-Bahamians to the tourist escaping the north’s cold weather. It is rare that within a metropolis as young as Miami, we find spaces that can transport us to a time 10,000 years back. We traveled through mangroves, pine rocklands, meadows, and hardwood hammocks as our geographical ancestors once did to find various ecosystems working together to survive.

As we trekked on through the wilderness, the fact that we were still in Miami and that we hadn’t crossed an invisible portal to another world was unfathomable. It was hard not to be consumed by the beauty of nature in its most natural state. I was mesmerized by the beautiful patterns created by the light escaping through the interconnected web of tree branches and firmly rooted mangroves.

As we continued to explore, I forced myself to imagine what life was like for the people before me thousands of years ago. I could imagine them walking side by side, finding the tools they would need to hunt, drill, and dig. I could visualize them gathering plants and the food necessary for their survival. And I could envision them bathing and drinking from the pools of freshwater and using the variety of trees to build their homes, canoes, and tools. I couldn’t help but ask myself what would’ve become such a complex society had it not been from their annihilation.

Once we reached the Tequesta Burial Mound, the energy shifted. Combatant feelings of joy and sadness made their way into my mind. This place was only a reminder of the massacre our most ancient ancestors suffered upon the arrival of greedy men looking to colonize and exterminate anyone who stood in their way. As I reached the closest I could be to the burial site, I realized that sitting on top of this mound, of 18 Tequesta burials, is an enormous oak tree that I choose to believe carries, in its roots and branches, the very souls of the Tequesta live on. And I could breathe with ease again.

Everglades as Text

“Nature’s Mosaic,” by Andrea S. Rodríguez Matos of FIU at Everglades National Park on January 13, 2021.

After a tumultuous year riddled with a global pandemic, political dilemmas, ecological disasters, and social upheaval, a trip to the Everglades seemed like a wonderful opportunity to start a new year right. Away from the Miamian metropolis’ bustling streets lies thousands of acres of land dedicated to preserving the largest subtropical wilderness in the United States.

As we immersed ourselves into the wilderness, becoming one with nature, slogging through the towering cypress trees made everyday worries seem ridiculous and foolish. So much time of our lives is wasted in reminiscing the past and anxiously planning our future that we forget there’s nothing like living in the present. There’s nothing that makes one more present than smelling the fresh air, feeling the wind on your face, and hearing the birds sing. It serves almost as a reminder to take a breath, to look up at the sky, and rejoice in the fact that there’s life at its purest when you’re surrounded by water and earth. The crystal water was a testament that even the muddiest of environments hold balance and beauty.

Perhaps my favorite part of this unforgettable day was when our guide and park ranger Dylann Turffs, made us quietly stand still where no cars could be heard to fully appreciate the space we were exploring. She then read us a poem by Anne McCrary Sullivan that validated the feelings I had when standing still in the middle of the cypress.

“[…] I am inconsequential here

I am inconsequential everywhere

but here I have no illusions

whatever dies dies

whatever gets devoured gets devoured

waters rise and fall clouds move,

the buzzing profusion continues […]”

In a land so close to our homes is an oasis of raw nature. A dynamic variety of ecosystems makes the Everglades one of nature’s most impressive mosaics. There is something otherworldly about the artworks one finds in nature. No man, despite ability and drive, can replicate the complexity of patterns, colors, lines, and forms magically given to us through the environment’s imagination. There’s no limit to what this complex ecological system can provide us, and it is why it’s so important we make an effort to care for this world’s life source.

Wynwood as Text

“New Perspectives,” by Andrea S. Rodríguez Matos of FIU at The Margulies Collection and Locust Projects on January 27, 2021.

Our first stop of the day was the Margulies Collection in Wynwood, and I was excited as ever to finally visit one of the most talked-about private collections in Miami. This excellent warehouse houses an exciting range of contemporary art worldwide, but perhaps their most impressive feature is the massive photographic collection at their disposal. The photographs take a unique space within the warehouse and are displayed salon-style along a long hallway, and it was this impressive display of the photographs that consumed me, I was in awe.

During our time in the Locust Projects to view their newest exhibition/installation titled “Made by Dusk”, we met Mette Tommerup, the artist. This exhibition is the third installment of an exhibition trilogy where she transforms the space and calls for a state of ethereal stillness and reflection. The spiritual informs the installation as Tommerup draws inspiration from Freya, the Nordic Goddess of love, war, and transformation.

As a person who has been acquainted with art and its history since high school, every time I venture into a new museum, exhibition, or collection, I find myself looking for technical and artistic clues that indicate the piece’s intention. I pay attention to the artwork’s context regarding the time it was produced and the visual composition, and the elements and materials that merge into the work before me.  I am not an expert at observing art, but I am passionate about what I am looking at. However, when one studies art history, it is easier to be consumed by the technicalities and academic aspects of viewing art rather than entering an exhibition and letting my mind wander. During our time in Margulies Collection and Locust Projects, my classmates reminded me of the importance of the raw and emotional connection with art. Their instinctive reactions, whether it was love, hate, or disregard for the pieces within these collections, made my understanding of them all the better. A few of my classmates showed powerful feelings about the value of an artwork, the artist’s intention and application, and the final product itself that made the conversations more exciting and thought provoking. I appreciated and questioned the works around me from a new perspective through them.  More often than not, the reaction of someone not as educated in the arts is more impressive than those who have spent their whole lives immersed in it.

Bill Baggs as Text

“New Lessons,” by Andrea S. Rodríguez Matos of FIU at Bill Baggs State Park on February 10, 2021.

Our experience at Bill Baggs State Park did not disappoint. Ranger Shane Zigler was a great addition to our time there as he provided interesting insights about the history of Key Biscayne and the Lighthouse. Professor Bailly helped us put things in a global perspective and gain context on Key Biscayne’s importance from its first settlers, the Tequesta, to the Spaniards who settled and the modernization efforts that began after Florida became part of the United States of America. As we walked the path that lay in front of us, I always wondered how this piece of land could have looked like when the Tequesta were here. It is their stories I long to hear and record in my mind forever. Yet when many people think of the Tequesta about Key Biscayne, they only focus on the famous incident known as the attack on July 23, 1836, during the Seminole Wars, in which they (Tequesta) took the lighthouse. However, it is essential to remember that this event did not happen without cause.  The Tequesta decided to take this course of action because they were being massacred all over the South and kept being pushed down further and further every time. It then became clear they could either fight or be exterminated. To say that the Tequesta were treated poorly is to oversimplify this situation’s gravity. This is the reason I sympathized when they attacked the lighthouse; they were sending a message of resilience and defiance. It’s a victory nobody will ever be able to take away from them.

Since I first moved to South Florida three years ago from Puerto Rico, I have to admit that I underwent tremendous struggle to adapt to life here. I was quick to judge a big city because of the culture shock I experienced and the bubble of my everyday life. The months turned into years of me judging a place I knew absolutely nothing about; then, I took this class that explores the real Miami, and I am left utterly speechless. Through these immersive lectures, I reflect on how wrong I was about South Florida. I let my ignorance and lack of experience taint the beauty of a land so rich in history and culture.

River of Grass as Text

“No Man’s Land,” by Andrea S. Rodríguez Matos of FIU at Everglades National Park on February 24, 2021.

 For a second time this semester, we went to explore the Everglades National Park. Having only ventured through a small portion of this ecosystem, we uncovered new spaces of this wonderful wilderness. This time around, we focused on the Everglades’ human history, from the man-made disasters to the preservation efforts that others have started to reverse the damage done. The whole day I was going back and forth in history, trying to wrap my head around the hardships the land I was happily exploring had gone through. 

As we have learned throughout the semester, humans have lived in the Florida Everglades as far back as 15,000 years ago. The two major tribes that were living as hunter-gatherers were the Calusa and the Tequesta. The Everglades had remained untouched 300 years after the first Spaniard arrived in Florida until the State decided they could begin selling their “worthless swampland” for profit. Among the industrialist responsible for the quick deterioration of the Everglades was Hamilton Disston, Henry Flagler, and Richard J. Bolles. All of which have been praised in one way or another for Florida’s development, yet little is said about the natural and human impact of their so-called “vision”. The same vision that led them to declare a war against nature and Florida’s native inhabitants, all to begin converting the northern Everglades into suburbs, and sugar plantations. Through it all it has been mostly women, like Marjory Stoneman Douglas and others who led the most radical groups of preservation and restoration of the land in South Florida. These women were the ones who knew the true ecological value of the Everglades and decided to make awareness of the damage done.

It is overwhelming to learn how ambitious man’s greed is to get to the point of such an ecological disaster. And to make matters worse on the very land that had been cared for hundreds of years before by the Native Americans. These tribes whose members were brutally murdered by the first Spanish and English conquistadors and by the Americans years later were the ones who held the true vision and the answers to natural harmony. By eradicating them and erasing any contribution, or role played in Florida’s history was how these developers could implement their business models and how they got awarded with the titles of “pioneers.” This disconnection from nature, separating humans from the natural world, has lasted to this very day and comes from the obliteration of the Native Americans that have survived from the political and socioeconomic institutions.

When researching erasure and ownership, I came across several accounts of different Native American tribes that understood and continue to affirm that nature provides all that we need to survive. Oren Lyons, Faithkeeper of the Wolf Clan of the Seneca Nation of the Haudenosaunee Confederacy explains that the earth is our mother, and the plants and animals are our relatives. When asked about ownership he recalls when the first colonizers arrived, how the chiefs of the time laughed when asked about the ownership of the land saying, “How can you buy land?” For its their belief that land cannot be owned, dominated or possessed, simply put the earth was only under their care and protection. I long to see what Florida would have looked like had we treated the inhabitants of this land with humanity. What would our mindset and our life be like had we just sat down and listened to their divine instructions to respect life, above everything else.

Frost Art Museum as Text

“Decolonizing our Museum,” by Andrea S. Rodríguez Matos of FIU at The Patricia & Phillip Frost Art Museum on March 12, 2021.

Our society is filled with racist and misogynistic institutions that have never felt the pressure to change because white supremacy has made consistent efforts to keep minority groups from climbing up the ranks to the change-making positions that could begin to change this narrative. Museums as cultural institutions have always been seen as holy temples and societal change leaders where artists could present their controversial and modern ideas. However, throughout history, the artists allowed in those rooms and allowed to voice those opinions were white men and never women, people of colors, or any who didn’t fit in the Anglo-Saxon and heteronormative norm. The administration of these institutions isn’t the only thing that is being done wrong in museums; there is still a huge representation problem. The modern museum is unquestionably intertwined with the history of colonization, specifically since these collections were started by wealthy collectors who traveled extensively and brought back artifacts from third-world countries and displayed them in their homes.

An interesting conversation that popped up during our visit to the Frost Art Museum was in Pepe Mar’s “Tesoro”, an exhibition that in its core seeks to recontextualize artworks and artifacts from the museum’s permanent collection, was the placement and intention behind a group of artifacts and masks. In one of its sections, an installation features many masks from different cultures, all for them to be dumped in an explosive and colorful wallpaper, which begs the question if these masks are thrown to be just that, decorative wallpaper which perpetuates a larger colonial mindset. In many cases, museums tend to lose the human connection these works may have had at one beginning. On this wall, masks of various indigenous cultures are displayed side by side. Even though Pepe Mar intends to “come together” and surpass our differences, I think his curatorial choice of placing the masks leaves a wide door open to the wrong type of interpretation. Of not giving these artifacts the dignity they deserve. Like how in oceanic cultures, masks are used at different times of the year to honor their spirits and ancestors.

With an increasing consciousness of the oppressive, racist, and misogynistic tendencies being practiced in these institutions, more leadership roles within cultural and artistic organizations have been given to women and people of color. In recent years, museum workers and museum-goers have an abundance of initiatives to “decolonize” the museum. Decolonizing the museum is a new movement that forces these institutions to take drastic measures to change the way they present artwork, curate and diversify their collections and exhibitions. This new movement seeks to ask these museums to listen to the underrepresented communities and move their colonial mindset of privilege and authority to provide a platform for horizontal and equitable conversations.

Overall, the Frost has always been an institution that engages in controversial conversations and champions underrepresented artists and regions such as the Caribbean and Latin American, and the Latinx diasporic community.

Coral Gables as Text

“The Racist Fairyland,” by Andrea S. Rodríguez Matos of FIU at the City Coral Gables on March 24, 2021.

As a person who comes from very humble beginnings, when I walk or drive through Coral Gables, I always feel out of place. The wealthy neighborhoods with big houses, ample roads, and freshly cut grass are just a few of the undeniable opulence indicators compared to its bordering cities. And although the idea of “The Gables” came from a man of modest upbringing, the city itself was always meant to be what it is today, very rich, prosperous, and extremely out of touch with the rest of its southern Floridian reality. As can be expected of a city built entirely on a dream, a utopia of sorts, where he could convert all the fantastical things he read into his reality. When planning what he sought to accomplish, George Merrick once wrote:

“I dream of the home of the Fairies and Fays,
on the isles of the calm southern sky,
Of the fanciful turrets and towers ablaze
In the flood of the rays from on high…”

During the Florida land boom of the 1920s, Merrick began the project that had resided in the depths of his imagination since he was a boy, making one of the first planned communities that we know now as Coral Gables. He sought collaborators to help him develop the city’s signature architecture style called Mediterranean Revival to resemble Southern Spain built by the Moors. Like much of South Florida, pioneers and visionaries are always credited for creating a city, but little is said about the people who literally built it. The development and building of Coral Gables are owed to the labor of Bahamian immigrants to South Florida. These workers were incredibly proficient in making coral rock into a malleable material and converting the rocky country into rich farmland. Merrick was right, but shouldn’t be praised, to credit their expertise. He once explained, “In the Bahamas, there is the same coral rock; and the Bahamians knew how to plant on it, and how to use it, and they knew too that all kinds of tropical trees would grow and thrive on this rock. They, too, had a vital influence upon our civilization in bringing in their own commonly used trees, vegetables, and fruits.”

However lovely the sentiment to credit them as they are not acknowledged further than a few lines on a piece of paper. To this day, Coral Gables has never been a neighborhood that openly welcomes non-whites, with a population of 91.85% White/White Hispanic, as reported on the 2020 US Census. “The Gables” and its founder never meant to welcome a non-white population. Merrick is explicitly known to have made racist segregationist beliefs and advocated for racist policies throughout his career as a developer and his role as head of the Miami-Dade Planning Board. He went as far as saying before a Miami Board of Realtors meeting that the “removal of Black residents [is] fundamental in achieving the goals for the rest of Miami.” What is most shocking about all of this is how it is an issue that persists today, visible for all to see the moment anyone passes the city lines into Coral Gables.

Vizcaya as Text

“Our last visit: Vizcaya,” by Andrea S. Rodríguez Matos of FIU at Vizcaya Museum and Gardens on April 7th, 2021.

Involving nearly a tenth of Miami’s population in its construction, Vizcaya Museum and Gardens is one of the most significant projects and legacies of one James Deering. Known for his role as the treasurer and then vice-president of the Deering Harvester Company was a man whose love for European culture and antiquities characterized his vision for his landmark Vizcaya. In 1912 Deering acquired the land from Mary Brickell as a somewhat retired bachelor and set out to build his dream home in South Florida’s jungle hammock. With the help of Paul Chalfin, Burrall Hoffman, and Diego Suarez and thousands of Bahamian stonemasons and workers, a lavish Italian-Mediterranean revival waterfront villa with spacious Renaissance revival gardens and a detail-oriented architectural interior full of European, Asian, and American furnishing, art, and antiquities that go back thousands of years. He was part of the out-of-touch elite who romanticized the colonization of the Americas and Europeans’ expeditions.

Utilizing his incredible wealth, he had access to travel extensively through Europe. He collected the highest forms of art he desired, and, in a way, it provided him the ability to borrow culture without question. The furnishings and decors themselves are priceless items such as a rug that belonged to King Ferdinand of Spain’s grandfather and the base of a table from Pompeii’s ruins. Besides these wonders from old European culture, he included modern features such as elevators, a modern phone system, fire control, and central heating. With this combination of the old and the new, he added illusion and mystery to his story, creating a façade of sorts, all within the norms of his extravagant and lavish lifestyle present in the statement that was Vizcaya. Just like in his interior, Deering wanted in his garden the presence of both Europe and Miami. This is why even in his garden, he made sure to infuse classical Italian and French design mixed into the subtropical flora. His use of stone and his interest in the light’s modulation also showcase his need to create an environment that welcomed his passion for Europe and his love of Miami.

An interesting quote that I found when researching Vizcaya and Deering further was Kathryn Chapman Harwood, writer of “The Lives of Vizcaya: Annals of a Great House,” who says that “Although Vizcaya speaks of the 16th, the 17th, and the 18th centuries, of the Renaissance, baroque, rococo, neoclassic, there still hangs in the air, in the manner of living the house illustrates so well, the most fascinating memory of all. There is the still intact vision of a whole social class just moments before its familiar world shattered.” Her book focuses on the recently found priceless documents and records that were evidence of the lost stories of the people who worked there and an agonizing tale of its complex conception for the short five years; Deering was able to enjoy it. I will say, I have a love and hate relationship with Mr. James Deering but will always acknowledge him as being one of the people who truly set-in stone (literally) and somehow predicted what Miami would become a hundred years later.

Hello reader. My name is Skyler Hayman, but everyone calls me Sky. I identify as a non-binary queer human being who was born and raised in Miami, FL and birthed from two immigrant parents who are originally from Nicaragua. All pronouns are welcomed and so are your comments. I am a junior at Florida International University double majoring in International Business and Marketing. Art has always and will always hold a special spot in my heart as it is a way to connect with other human beings through time and space. In the future, I hope to become a product/project manager, but my goal in life is to gain as many memories and experiences as I can.

Deering As Test: “Category Is… Richmond Realness” by Skyler Hayman of FIU at Deering Estate

Fashion is an art form that is constantly changing, improving, and being reinvented.

As seen in the photo above it is an example of what a wealthy woman of those times would consider fashionable. It’s the early 1900’s in Miami and women suffered in heat to be with the trends and seen as a respectable person. Keep in mind that this is a layered outfit with small torso to show off a feminine figure, but at the cost of being uncomfortable, sweaty, and most likely tired.

We now know, that fashion is different all around the world and at times, weather is a factor on deciding what’s trendy and what is allowed to be worn. This was the type of fashion that not only did the Deerings’ wear but was also encouraged for those around them to be presentable too, including the help.

Similarities from those times to now are body types. When looking up fashion from this era, it shows women who have a small waist and a long gown, could be signifying long legs. Models now are continuing this trend by being thin and having long legs. Differences now are that the world of fashion is being more acceptable to other skin colors, but also taking in account of the women that belong to different cultures. Don’t forget that women in general are allowed to show more skin now in certain part of the world.

Overall, having a peak at not only this time era, but also the location, we see they type of culture that was brewing in Miami at this time. The Richmond Cottage was converted into an Inn but not only was it a resting place for people, but also a temporary moment for different visitors to share their differences and similarities in what they wore and their culture from either their part of Florida or elsewhere.

South Beach As Text: “Don’t White People Own This?” by Skyler Hayman of FIU at South Beach

As we begin to go further into our explorations of Miami, South Beach is a place that could never be skipped over. South Beach has gone by and still goes by many names, but the history of the place will remain the same.

Walking through the streets of South Beach and not only was it a unique experience, but an actual walk through memory lane. Buildings have been torn down, renovated, rebuilt, or even kept the same. Seeing the history of these buildings speak through their names and even their architecture.

Having gone through these streets and their history, the string that ties them all together are the white people that have navigated it’s history into the future. Did the big white names actually construct these buildings? No. They have called the shots about who can live there and who can hang out there and exactly where all these things happen.

To this day, the segregated parts of South Beach still continue to be separated. Everything below 5th street is not blocked off and not protected the same way everything above 5th street is. Above 5th street there are blockades that don’t allow cars to drive through those streets which have been places because of the pandemic, but still protect only those buildings. Many buildings have been built in an Art Deco style down this side of South Beach that have kept authenticity of these buildings, but were only protected by another white person.

South Beach today is now the center of Miami, regardless of geographic location. It’s our main attraction that’s placed in the intros of movies and shows, but it is our duty to learn its history which will overall deepen our love and appreciation for Miami.

Bakehouse As Text: “Science But Make It Artsy” by Skyler Hayman of FIU at Bakehouse

What’s the first thing you think of when you hear the word coral reef? Did you think of some ocean somewhere? Coral reefs are one of the most essential ecosystems of the sea. Coral reefs are the rainforests of the sea in which they provide a home to many species and are also protectors. Worst part is, they’re depleting and it’s our fault.

So how do you tell the world about something sad and scary, but in a way that won’t make them want to ignore the issue? Art. While at the bakehouse, science was being explained through art and its medium was clay. Repurposed clay was being given the chance to explain science through a story that still being created. Coral reef molds, clay, and a lot of teamwork is telling a scary story about how our coral reefs are depleting and it’s our fault, but there are way we can help.

This is just one of many examples of how science can communicate through art. This time it’s an exhibit about a lost city found underwater using clay, but next time it could be a movie or a painting. This project does not only show how science and art can be intertwined, but how any subjects can come together and still relay a message.

Rubell As Text: “Rubells Take On Contemporary Art” by Skyler Hayman of FIU at Rubell Museum Contemporary Arts Foundation

It has been said before that art is a story that each person interprets differently. Aside from being a story. art is a freedom of expression that is used to communicate with people through space and time. So what exactly is the image above telling you?

The Rubell family started with one art work that they were paying with weekly installments to now becoming one of the biggest contemporary art collections in North America. They know that art is not made to be transactions being passed around for one individual, but rather to share with the world. The art works are on display without censorship in their rawest form.

Contemporary art is more of a modern art which makes this museum more reachable to it’s visitors by being able to connect with them. Some art works may seem confusing and hard to understand and other art works look astonishing and beautiful. However, they all fall under the genre of contemporary art because they are from artists living today.

Each of these art works have a background on how and why it was made. Many times artists do not want to provide too much of an explanation behind their work only because they want to leave those consuming it to interpret it for themselves. How do you see contemporary art now?

Deering Hike As Text: “Nature: Where Past Meets Present” by Skyler Hayman of FIU at Deering Estate

Aside from the mosquitos buzzing in one’s ear, the climbing temperatures, and occasional breeze, during this hike the past presented itself to its future but our present.

Water in nature is a life-support for all who drink from it. It was a feast for those who eat of its living organisms. In the past, hunters and gatherers would take complete advantage of a place like this one. Not only did it provide a nourishing and thirst-quenching experience, but it also provided them with food to survive until they encounter another opportunity like this one.

Nature provided rocks that were at times perfectly shaped to skin a fish, sharpen a spear, or even dig a hole in the ground. It was nature’s way of helping out the humans in the past. Nature continues to do these things whether or not humankind has advanced far from it. This is where the present meets the past, which is their future.

We now see parts of nature like these or even at times find the same tools they used back then in those places at this time and think how fascinating it is or think how they survive and definitely surprised to how far we have come.

Nature continues to live on in the same way as it used to even to certain animals. Those species who don’t have the power, mentally or physically, to move past the times of hunter and gatherer. We have done damage to these places, but we most also give back to the places who helped us get here.

Downtown Miami As Text: “Dear Tequestas, I’m Sorry” by Skyler Hayman of FIU at Downtown Miami

Downtown Miami today is the hub to find all different types of people ranging from culture, socioeconomic status, sexuality, religion etc. and it can be seen with the architecture of the buildings, the people walking the streets, and even the type of places to eat. But before all the sights to see, there were Native Americans residing there. They were pushed down south then moved again just so Downtown could become Downtown.

The Tequestas were a tribe like many others that were forcibly removed from many places just so that non natives could steal their land and turn them into whatever they wanted. The history of Downtown Miami is not spoken of much because we are too occupied with concentrating on the diversity of right now. People of color built Miami, but we only acknowledge the ones who were forcing these people to build.

However, houses like in the image above give an exceptional story. An interracial couple lived in that home. A white man was married to his black wife and they had kids and took care of them in that house. Interracial couples seem normal to us now, but were a huge controversy back in those times. This is what Miami is truly about. Downtown Miami itself is a mixture of all different kinds of people with different backgrounds and who have different experiences.

Downtown Miami is even home to other histories. There is a piece of the Berlin Wall in front of the Miami-Dade College that has it’s own story with the past dean. Downtown Miami is a wonderful place that is a very important place for many people. The history of it and those who worked for it to get there is not spoken about enough or one to truly acknowledge and appreciate it.

Mangroves As Text: “Pick Up After Yourselves” by Skyler Hayman of FIU at Deering Estate

This is now my third time visiting the Deering Estate. Every single time I go, it seems like I am stepping into a whole new world. From the Richmond Cottage to the hike trail, to now this. The mangroves at the Deering Estate. The weather was nice, the people were, great and the water was beautiful.

However, like many beautiful things in nature, the deeper you look the sooner you’ll find how humans have ruined it. Before getting to work, we had the opportunity to canoe deep within the mangroves and have a moment to take in its beauty. The crabs crawling on the branches, the spiders weaving their webs, and fellow classmates tipping their canoe. This experience was an unforgettable one.

After some fun, it was time to remember why we were there. This was more than just picking up trash from humans that got entangled within the mangroves. This was an apology to mother nature. We were able to recover a lot of trash that were thrown off boats and somehow got into the mangroves. I was one of the students who tipped over their canoe so I was figuratively and literally submersed within the mangroves. Wet and all, we continued to pick up after others. After our canoes were filled with trash and soaking wet students, we paddled our way back to shore to dispose of what we collected. The only message I can share is, pick up after yourselves.

Everglades As Text: “Slough Slogging Adventures” by Skyler Hayman of FIU at Everglades National Park

When talking to any Floridian, they know the general area of where the Everglades are. Even referring to it as “the Everglades” was very Floridian of me. However, not everyone knows how it works or even the history of it. Everglades National Park is the largest subtropical wilderness in the United States. As more and more people came down, they began to redirect water flow and build on the Everglades which has now become towns people live in. There are efforts to restore the water flow and to maintain the land that wasn’t completely destroyed when making South Florida.

I am not new to the Everglades nor am I new to slough slogging. However, passing down the opportunity to go on such an adventure again, especially with new people and great guideS, is impossible. This time, I got to slough slog in a new area that is truly breathtaking as can be seen on the left of the photo above. It was the same activity, but in a new location with new people and new information made it feel like I was doing it for the first time.

After a brief lunch intermission, I was thrown into a new area where there was a boardwalk trail that allowed me to continue to see a different side of the Everglades. This side can be seen on the right of the photo provided from above. This trail seemed brighter and more open all while maintaining an adventurous scene. Birds catching prey, mating, and even defecating set the scene that could be shared with first time visitors and avid bird watchers.

Lastly, a few of us took the extra step and went on another mini trail right next to this one, which again felt like a whole new scene. I don’t know how mother nature does it, but what I do know is that sights and experiences like these can not be passed on. Everglades National Park is more than just a swamp, but rather a world of worlds of beautiful explorations that needs to be taken advantage of.

Margulies As Text: “Contemporary Art Exhibit A” by Skyler Hayman of FIU at Margulies Collection at the Warehouse

As we know, contemporary art is the art of the modern day world. It’s unexplainable yet interesting. To some people they just see a 5 year olds art class project and others can feel the intent and emotion of each artist and understand the concept. The difference lies in one aspect, art education.

While touring the collection, there were many moments where I questioned myself “Do I lack the art education to understand this?” and most times I did until later where the piece was explained to me and I was able to understand how the artist was able to obtain that piece. Some art works spoke for themselves. It was able to communicate its purpose by making one feel the art with their eyes or the space it was in.

The best part about going to see art with others is that each person is able to interpret the art in their own different way. We came across an artwork that was made entirely of rocks. To most of us, it was a beautiful piece of artwork that came from nature until a classmate spoke up and was able to see that even though it was a nice piece, it was harmful to the environment that these rocks were taken from. A business person, an environmentalist, and an artist all saw the same piece and all took away something different and that relates back to my statement that art is a way to connect with other human beings through time and space.

This collection is one that I recommend one goes to see without judgement and reservations about art, but an open mind that is open to seeing the artwork from different perspectives.

Bill Baggs As Text: “Lighthouse Tales” by Skyler Hayman of FIU at Bill Baggs Cape Florida State Park

And there I was again, diving into history through the landmarks that were there and stories told by people who heard it from other people who heard it from the friends of the people who experienced it. Hearing about who built the land and who claimed it and who discovered it and slightly distracted by those who were there standing in front of me. Standing in the shade of the same lighthouse we weren’t allowed to enter because of the pandemic. Hearing the same ocean waves those before me have heard and those after me might not get to hear.

Applying previous knowledge of people before us like the Tequestas and the Afro-Bahamians and seeing how they would’ve lived in this area. Using the lenses of the past and trying to see our present in their future. Runaway slaves seeking freedom in the same place people are now taking photoshoots and having lunch. Seeing a home built in the middle of it all that didn’t belong there with its two chimneys in Miami, Florida…. the sunshine state.

Our fun didn’t stop there. After having a sweet encounter with the wildlife in the man made area of trees planted there to rejuvenate the place and bring back the beauty of it, it was time to have a beach cleanup. It was our time to give back to the same Earth that provided stories, tales, and a gorgeous view. Walking alongside the water still thinking about the history of the people before me. Wondering if they showered or played on the same beach I am cleaning up. These were the tales provided to us while standing next to a lighthouse that has been there for years and more years to come.

River of Grass As Text: “Abandoned Tomato Farm” by Skyler Hayman of FIU at Everglades National Park

Looking at the image above, tell me what you see. If you answered some grass and the sky, you’re correct. But I promise you it’s way more than just that. What’s not captured in the photo is actually how wet and muddy the floor where the grass stands really is.

Before our wild adventure, we had a walk through the past visiting an old missile sight in the Everglades. Seeing a missile sight and knowing that back in the day if need be, the U.S. government would’ve cause tremendous damage to the this unique ecosystem. Shortly after this small blast to the past, we actually dove into the everglades.

It wasn’t my first trip to the Everglades and I highly doubt it’ll be my last. We were on this long journey to see a farmer’s house that was in the middle of this abandoned tomato farm that turned into a habitat for animals who have been forced into this sanctuary. Our class stomped and tracked through this terrain and now we have left our mark in this spot of the Everglades. Our adventure was also filled with iconic sights of spoonbills that soared through the sky.

Frost As Text: “Rose Petals” by Skyler Hayman of FIU at Patricia & Phillip Frost Art Museum at FIU

Back in another museum. Connecting with humans through which connects us all through time and space. Diving into other cultures and the minds of artists through what they’ve made and the way the curators choose to tell their story. Learning that before art there was science which later turned into art, but can be used in science to this day. Standing in the middle of a gallery of rose petals that weren’t red or yellow, but black to show their shape and way of being. Seeing the same images scientists see and seeing science through our artistic eyes.

Applying the artistic knowledge bestowed onto me by a wise professor, we took our artsy lenses and went up to the third floor and no longer saw labels of things but rather unlabeled art standing next to other unlabeled art. Making educated guesses of what the artist meant to say or if they meant to say anything at all. Having deeper conversations and meaning behind each art piece and wondering if the art on display was offensive or disrespectful. Sitting on a bench which was limited to one person due to the pandemic and wondering if the so-called angel in the art piece was disappointed or asking for help. Art pieces framed in parts of furniture because the artist couldn’t afford more than that and it was now being dissected by a bunch of young adults who think they know what art means.

Our sight learning turned into hands-on learning once we were given some art tools and expected to make something meaningful or extravagant when being handed a rose and some paint. After opening my mind’s eye and making something I could be proud of, we were then given a psychological test. Not knowing it was a psychological test, our minds opened once more and released what we could, given the guides in front of us. Art not only connects all human beings through time and space but it also reveals what a particular human being’s mind is in that time and in that space. Revealing to me that I see sexuality as a “prison bitch” spoke volumes and it shows how the artists of the floors and I think differently, but are both considered artists to some degree.

Coral Gables As Text: “The Gables” by Skyler Hayman of FIU at Coral Gables Museum, Coral Gables, & Biltmore Hotel

Another museum, another history lesson. Coral Gables is a well-known part of Miami. It’s an area that is known for it scenery, money, and history. We were able to get a peak into the past by visiting the Coral Gables Museum which used to be a fire rescue station, police department, and even an old courthouse. Standing in the same spot criminals spent the night in felt scandalous and exciting. Standing in the same spot the fire engines would storm out of was a thrilling experience. Walking the same halls past presidents have walked felt inspiring. I was now learning about the area where I would pass through and visit my whole life and learning exactly how it got its name. I was a business student looking at history with my artistic eyes.

If you’re familiar with this class and my experience in this non-traditional lecture, you know the fun never ends there. After taking a time machine to the past, we took a walk in the present while talking about the future. Walking the streets of Coral Gables Making educated guesses of what the artist meant to say or if they meant to say anything at all. Having conversations about keeping the antique style of Coral Gables . Strutting the streets where restaurants and businesses stood together and flags from different countries hung right over them. The streets lead us to a time capsule and we visited the expensive, haunted, historical iconic…

Biltmore Hotel. Walking in was seeing the people of the present being present in a past location where they were the people of the future. The only way I could describe this experience is if Cinderella were to walk in Prince Charming’s Castle before the bippity boppity boo. The scenery can only be described as vintage wealthy glamour. Being led around by such a knowledgable tour guide. Seeing the possible events that probably made stories and dramas of the rooms there.

Vizcaya As Text: “Man Made Beauty” by Skyler Hayman of FIU at Vizcaya Museum & Gardens

My life couldn’t have continued without coming to see this place. Vizcaya Museum and Garden was the highlight of this entire course. Aside from the people and moments shared with them, lectures given, and many other aspects, this man made beauty was the best end to our journey as a class. This wasn’t just another museum, but we were walking in a palace built by James Deering. James had a vision for a mansion and because of his resources, his vision became a reality and what a beautiful reality it was.

The beauty began at the entrance where there were signs guiding visitors to parking spaces. It was like entering the prettiest part of the jungle. A short walk and I found myself with my jaw dropped and eyes widened by the astonished beauty that was Vizcaya. The entrance itself looked as if the trees were welcoming us into a magical place. Upon entering, a statue of a god was looking down on us and my mind began to wonder, how did James come up with such a beautiful concept. Later learning that the entrance we entered wasn’t even the main entrance, I could only imagine what lied ahead. What I saw next, my own imagination couldn’t even compete. A body of water looking onto a balcony where it told me to leave serious things behind and trust me that I did. Passing through the rooms of the house and through secret passage ways made me feel just as boujee as James Deering might have felt.

If being inside the mansion wasn’t enough, we were able to lose ourselves and truly leave all serious things behind and just frolic throughout the garden. Stepping outside and going into the garden felt almost angelic. The trees whispering and telling us to dance, the leaves laughing in the wind, and even the rocks we stepped on humming to the song that nature was singing in that garden. James Deering took on the challenge on creating what he wanted nature and beauty to mean and he did wonderfully. Fountains and secret gardens were just the remains of the stories that happened in the garden. All lessons learned about Afro-Bahamians, Spaniards, building art styles, etc. were all tied back to into this palace. What a great end to a wonderful class, Vizcaya Museum & Garden.

Author: Skyler Hayman