Miami Art Week and the Dread of Crowds
Was that a robot dog with Mark Zuckerberg's face, or just Mark Zuckerberg?
The biggest week of the year in Miami. By a long shot. Art Basel at the conference centre isn’t just Art Basel at the conference centre. It’s two more large shows on the beach, several around the beach side, more on the city side, and countless pop-ups in galleries, hotels, coffee shops, and street corners. And I dread the idea of it.
This is my one and only year in Miami. Summer was incredibly quiet. Too hot for people to come here. I’m averse to crowds, so that was fine. I’m also averse to extreme heat. I got out some mornings, but by 10am the sun and humidity were a potent force. Daily lightning saved my sanity. And it never got boring.
October arrived, and the temperature started to mercifully taper off. Still very hot, but now there was an “oooh, that breeze feels nice.” The coffee shop was busier. Traffic building. Landscapers out in their droves. “THE SNOWBIRDS ARE COMING,” the South Floridian Paul Revere cried. For my non-American friends, that’s people from colder climates who have decided never to experience a cold winter again. Down from the North they come, and Miami comes back to life. And the unofficial welcoming party – Miami Art Week (MAW).
This was to be our first experience of MAW. Art Basel Miami, of duct-tape banana fame, is the poster child of the week. Around it, Untitled and Scope held their places on the beach, with Aqua and Satellite between them. On the city side, Art Miami’s Context, Red Dot, Feria Clandestina, Nada, and on and on. No shortage of shows to see, art to buy, and afterparties to attend.
“Take my advice…” a local gallerist told me two weeks before the event, “…plan your days on either side of Miami. You can’t do the city and the beach in the same day. You could easily sit in traffic for 2–3 hours just getting from one side to the next.”
It’s not cheap to get around either. Basel priced from $88 for general entry to over $3,000 for VIP tickets. The venues are built, the booths are built, and the people come. As an attendee of similar shows, I usually feel worn out after just one major show. That’s just my feet. In Miami, your wallet gets worn out buying the privilege to wear out your feet.
As it turned out though, none of that would bother me. I wouldn’t be troubled by long traffic jams. No exhibit floor fatigue. My wallet safe from buying KAWS and Lichtenstein replicas (originals I could NEVER afford). And crowds? Not my problem. Our first experience of MAW wasn’t as visitors; it was as gallerists at the Satellite Art Show. applause, applause “Thank you, thank you, too kind”.
Cue a dread level I didn’t even know was possible. For reference:
Level 1: Attending a crowded event.
“They’re dressed well. I should have worn something else. I feel fat. Ohh that’s amazing! How much?? There are way too many people in here. I’ll just wait outside.”
Level 2: My work in a group show.
“People will show up. It’s the gallery’s responsibility, right? My friends are coming? That’s renting a crowd. Oh, everyone’s work is better than mine. That guy talked to me about my work, but he’s just being polite. It feels kinda good though. No, no, it doesn’t. I’ll wait outside.”
Level 3: Solo Show.
“I don’t want to go.”
Level 4: Any of the above, but with a requirement to present something.
Defcon 5: Gallerist showing other artists’ work.
“OH MY GOD, what if people don’t come? What if they come and leave IMMEDIATELY? Or they don’t buy anything? The artists are going to be here?? I hope we sell their work. It’s a big effort for them to be here. I feel sick. Is it too late to back out? What if I pass out? This parachute is just a backpack with bricks!!!”
And so on.
Brief pause for context. We created a nomadic gallery called ankydyn gallery (lowercase on purpose) on October 1st this year (2025…just in case the algorithm serves this to you in the future). It’s part of a longer-term plan to support artists whose work we love. We fast-tracked the launch because being in Miami and part of MAW seemed too good to pass up.
We applied and were selected for the Satellite Art Show at the Geneva Hotel, Miami Beach. A five-star rated, Qatari-owned boutique hotel with a bar/nightclub and guest DJ J-Lo at the front. Lolz no. It was a hellhole. The first install day involved shifting furniture out of the room that was meant to be gone before we arrived. The walls were yellow. Not a sunny yellow. A “tar from 50 years of chain smoking” yellow. Not optimal for showing art. And we were at the end of a hallway. Great, I thought, for keeping a safe distance from bone-crushing dubstep, coke heads, and tech bro rage I’d feared. As it turns out, Brian and Brittany, the head honchos of Satellite, had great taste in music. Sadly, being at the end of the hall was more hindrance than sanctuary.
Here’s the real truth. I loved it. We overcame the room’s challenges. The artists’ work (12 painters, sculptors, fabric artists, 4 filmmakers, and 29 photographers) was varied, hugely talented, and worthy of space at the big shows. The artists who were present helped install, sell, engage with visitors, and turned the show from stressful into fun. We were incredibly lucky to secure a sponsor, Ilegal Mezcal, and that absolutely helped. Moe from Ilegal was onsite serving visitors and adding to the room’s welcoming vibe. We turned what should have been a condemned hotel room into a lived-in space. Lamps were art. The closet, the iron, the cups, the wine bottles, the bathroom mirror. No area left untouched, yet the room still felt breathable. Room to move. We even held movie nights hosted by M&MDB Films, screening a film made specifically for our show, complete with popcorn runs. That smell brought people in too.
And news alert: Visitors were great. Friendly, interested in the art and the artists. We had some great conversations and made meaningful connections.
I dreaded the experience. Representing other artists was new to me. I desperately wanted to do the best job we could. Some artworks sold, others didn’t. That’s how it is. My feet hated me each day, but visitors were likely overstimulated, exhausted, and sore-footed too. It helped to remember that and not take every non-sale as a personal failure.
I’m proud of what we did. With ankydyn gallery, we jumped into the deep end and learned so much. I’d do MAW again. I’d even do it in a hotel. With many, many caveats. White walls being one. And next time, I won’t freak out ahead of it by inventing disaster scenarios in my head.
Right?
With immense thanks to all 45 artists involved for putting trust in ankydyn gallery to represent your work at MAW.
Here’s a few more photos from our room. Thanks for reading.
Paul
I can imagine you agonizing over the details, the weight of representing such wonderful artists and the hard work to bring MAW to life for you, Raluca and your audience. What an amazing experience and personal triumph for you to work through it all. Thank you for sharing this through your images and words.
Congrats POM & Raluka!! Looks amazing.