Why Miami Is Not Miami Without Latin Culture

On repetition, complexity, and the ethics of form

Miami would not possess this form, nor this energy, without Latin culture.

It might still have buildings. It might still attract capital.

But it would lack character.

Cities are not defined by skylines alone.

They are defined by the cultures that imagine them, inhabit them, and continually reshape them. Architecture, in this sense, is not merely a physical outcome; it is the spatial expression of collective values, behaviors, and aspirations.

In Miami, creativity, resilience, and entrepreneurial spirit—together with food, art, and architecture—have done more than generate built form. They have produced a distinct way of inhabiting the city. One that privileges openness over containment, encounter over separation, and lived experience over abstraction.

Latin culture has been a structural force in this evolution:

in Miami’s relationship with climate and landscape,

in the permeability between interior and exterior space,

in the central role of social life within the built environment,

and in an architectural language that is sensorial, expressive, and unapologetically human.

This reflection, however, extends beyond urban analysis.

It is also personal.

My architectural practice is shaped by conversations with Latin friends and colleagues; by repeated journeys through Mexico; by the indelible presence of Inca history; by the generosity of Colombian culture; by the depth of Puerto Rican tradition; by the quiet tension between decay and peace in Brazilian cities; by the chromatic intensity of the Caribbean. These experiences coexist with my Italian education—rooted in a long-standing culture of beauty—and with extensive travel throughout Europe and beyond.

What emerges is not a collage of influences, but a coherent position:

that openness is the true measure of richness.

To learn, to listen, and to observe are not secondary acts—they are architectural tools.

As Thomas Heatherwick has articulated, repetition and complexity are essential instruments in creating architecture that is attractive and magnetic. The same principles apply at every scale: cities, nations, continents, and nature itself.

Greatness does not arise from homogeneity.

It emerges from complexity, sustained by the repetition of positive human values—care, respect, curiosity, empathy, love. When cultural diversity aligns around such values, it becomes capable of generating beauty, harmony, innovation, and evolution.

This is, unavoidably, a political position.

Not partisan, but ethical.

I no longer believe that architects can afford to remain on the sidelines.

Architecture is a cultural act.

Design is a form of responsibility.

We are a collective project—

a living design shaped through complexity and repetition.

My commitment is to carry this conviction into daily practice:

as an architect,

as a creator,

and as a woman.

With love for my Latin family,

Gaia