This past weekend in Miami Beach, it was Art Deco Weekend.

Did I go? Hell no.

Don’t get me wrong. I love South Beach. Every chance I get, I put in an 8-mile jog on the beach called a “Raven Run.”

Between the water, the buildings, the vibe, and the energy, the city is always an electrifying place to explore.

On any given day, the streets are humming with activity, but when an event draws 50,000 global visitors, I keep my distance. LOL

Of course, those iconic buildings aren’t going anywhere, and the same tours are offered year-round. There's one that is offered every day.

Still, I’m on their mailing list, and such a gathering offers a perfect moment to reflect on an architectural style that remains vibrant and relatively young in the grand timeline of design.

It’s a chance to meander through the history of a style that continues to shape our modern horizon.

But first.

Miami Beach’s history is a compelling story of a meteoric rise, a devastating collapse, and a phoenix-like resurgence from the ashes.

The long Deco story starts with a boom: the 1920s land rush, Millionaire’s Row, and then, after the 1926 hurricane and the crash, a rebuilt city that embraced streamlined hotels and apartments along Ocean Drive and Collins Avenue.

By the 1930s and early 40s, hundreds of modestly scaled, optimistic buildings—think the Colony, Leslie, and their pastel siblings—defined what was arguably the world’s largest collection of Art Deco architecture.

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Then came the fall.

Postwar tastes shifted toward Miami Modern (MiMo) and glassy modernism, tourism sagged, and many Deco buildings slid into neglect, were stripped of ornament, or were demolished outright.

From the 1950s to the 1980s, South Beach was referred to as “God’s Waiting Room.” The nickname reflected the influx of retirees seeking warm weather and affordable living, transforming South Beach into a major retirement enclave.

At this point in time, the area was widely seen as run-down, disrepaired, and crime-ridden, with many Deco hotels in poor condition or threatened by redevelopment.

The renaissance began when preservationists formed the Miami Design Preservation League, rallied, and turned what some saw as outdated relics into a branded asset, culminating in the formal establishment of the Miami Beach Architectural District and Art Deco Weekend in 1977.

Then came Miami Vice.

The NBC crime drama began filming on location in 1984. The production team selectively lit, painted, and staged these same buildings to create a glamorous, cinematic version of the city.​

The Miami Design Preservation League now had a global platform.

By putting bikini-clad beachgoers, exotic cars, and stylized night scenes in front of pastel Deco backdrops, the series reframed Miami Beach from “God’s Waiting Room” into the ultimate 1980s playground.

This glossy image made viewers around the world want to experience Miami in person, helping to spark a surge in tourism during and after the show’s run.​

Formerly boarded-up or low-rent Deco hotels began returning as boutique properties, nightclubs, and restaurants modeled on the aspirational spaces depicted in the series.

Over time, South Beach evolved into a global entertainment hub and fashion backdrop, with Miami Vice widely cited as a catalyst that helped transform a deteriorating beachfront district into the high-value cultural and tourism engine it is today.

What makes Deco, Deco?

Originally emerging in France, this enduring style flourished globally between 1925 and 1940 and continues to inspire us today. At least it does me.

The style did not appear in a vacuum; it was influenced by several early 20th-century movements, including Cubism, the Vienna Secession, and the Arts and Crafts Movement. Unlike the Beaux-Arts style that preceded it, Art Deco sought to reflect the “machine age.”

The 1925 Paris Exposition, formally known as the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes (from which the style derived its name), introduced the world to the “modernistic” style. It featured two camps: those focused on luxury and fine craftsmanship (such as Lalique and Cartier), and modernists who viewed buildings as “machines for living.”

As the style evolved, it branched into three distinct sub-categories:

• Zigzag Moderne (Jazz Moderne): Popular in the late 1920s, it is characterized by verticality, vibrant colors, and geometric patterns like chevrons and zigzags.
• WPA / Classical Moderne: Emerging during the Great Depression, this was a more restrained, symmetrical style often used for government buildings and post offices.
• Streamline Modern: Inspired by aerodynamic technology (ships, planes, and trains), this style features rounded corners, horizontal lines, and “porthole” windows.

Most of what people call “Miami Art Deco” is actually the later Streamline Modern phase, tuned for a subtropical resort town. A few key characteristics include:

• Geometric order with curves
  • Strong symmetry, stepped parapets, and banding paired with rounded corners and eyebrows over windows.
  • Repeated motifs—sunbursts, chevrons, and stylized waves—keep façades legible even on small buildings.
• Nautical and machine-age cues
  • Horizontal lines suggest ocean liners; porthole windows, rail-like balcony guards, and sleek canopies reinforce the travel-and-technology theme.
  • Streamlined profiles and “flat” rooflines keep the massing reading as a clean, composed object.
• Color, light, and materials
  • Miami Beach uses pastel yellows, pinks, and blues accented with white trim and neon, a softer take on the saturated colors and metallics seen in other Deco cities.
  • Glass, mirrors, chrome, and lacquered finishes add a quiet glamor that works at a pedestrian scale.

My first attempt at Art Deco was not all Great Gatsby.

It was my first free-standing building that I both designed and built. It was a modest project by any commercial standard, but it was enormous in terms of lessons (and launching my career).

The year was 1990, and I was 28. I’d been a licensed builder for a decade, but didn’t have any formal design education. I was still five years away from discovering the American Institute of Building Design.

Looking back, it shows some Art Deco influences; most would probably not classify it as a true Art Deco building, though.

The flat parapetted shape and simple, blocky massing echo basic Deco/Streamline Modern forms. The windows and exaggerated banding also nod toward a stripped-down, “working‑class” Deco style rather than the highly decorated hotel version.

Classic Deco usually shows stronger vertical emphasis (tower elements, stepped parapets) or clearly expressed curved corners and eyebrow details, which I did not use.

Every time I’m in South Beach, I’m haunted by the ghosts of aligned window mullions and parapet steps. And what it means to seek a precedent.

Yet, everyone I talk to in Jupiter, Florida, knows "my building" at 100 W Indiantown Road.

In 1990, I could design Commercial buildings up to 3000 square feet (that one is 2995). Now that I focus on residential design, I’m realizing Deco is less about copying a hotel and more about adopting a disciplined vocabulary.

When designing in the Art Deco style, start with the building’s overall form rather than its intricate details.

Focus first on massing and shape. Begin by sketching simple, stacked volumes with a strong vertical element—a prominent entry tower, a grand staircase, or a tall, elegant chimney can serve this purpose. To create balance, introduce a single, contrasting horizontal feature, such as a sleek canopy or a wrap-around balcony.

To maintain the style’s characteristic flat roofline from the street view, I've seen where others have hidden a practical sloped roof behind a parapet for proper drainage.

In this first step, I’m often inspired by fellow AIBD Professional Member Phil Kean. Above is his The New American Home 2012. Although Phil Kean Design Group’s work would not typically be classified as Art Deco, PKDG’s contemporary modern shares Deco’s love of geometry.

Once you have established the basic form, strategically integrate Art Deco’s signature curves and lines. You can soften the structure by rounding an exterior corner or designing a curved stair tower. A balcony with a gentle radius can also provide a stylish nod to the era without significantly increasing costs.

For a detail that is both decorative and functional, use horizontal stucco bands that serve as control joints. This approach adds visual interest while being practical and cost-effective.

I’m still learning how to apply the design principles to interior spaces. That’s where being a part of an organization like AIBD is an invaluable asset.

If this meander whetted your appetite, there are easy ways to go deeper and turn Deco into a more intentional part of your practice.

Explore and sketch the district. Who wouldn’t want to take a tax-deductible trip to South Beach, especially this time of year?

Ocean Drive and Collins Avenue are like open-air classrooms for anyone interested in Art Deco design. Take a stroll and soak in the details—massing, proportion, and ornamentation are all on full display.

Sure, snapping a quick photo is easy, but sketching forces you to notice the little things: how bands align, how corners are resolved, and how small touches can suggest luxury.

The Miami Design Preservation League is a treasure trove for Art Deco enthusiasts. Their tours, lectures, and exhibits at the Art Deco Museum dive deep into the history and craftsmanship behind Tropical Deco, Streamline, and Med-Deco styles.

Many of their resources—such as guidebooks, walking maps, and recorded talks—are ideal tools for education. They’re not just informative, they’re inspiring.

If you prefer the West Coast, there’s also an Art Deco Society of Los Angeles. I’m just saying.

And then there's the act of being aware. Consciously look for Art Deco influences around you.

​Take a look at how today’s designers are reinterpreting Deco. Some firms are modernizing it by blending the classic massing, curves, and motifs with contemporary floor plans and performance standards.

If your latest design feels a little too “generic coastal contemporary,” pull some inspiration from Miami Beach’s Deco roots. Sometimes, I think that a single curve, a disciplined band, or a bold color palette can transform a standard design into something outstanding.

A nod to Deco can give your project a sense of history while keeping it firmly grounded in the present. It’s a reminder that architecture doesn’t just look back—it looks forward.

Go forth and design boldly,