A Mediterranean Oasis in Coconut Grove.
When the forecast is overcast, and your client reminds you that he “can’t sell a haunted house:” You endure dozens of mosquito bites and use all the tricks and tools you’ve learned along the way to create your own light and get the job done.
This project at 3467 N Moorings Way in the Coconut Grove neighborhood of Miami fulfilled all the boxes I crave regarding my work. Beautiful, bespoke architecture? Check. Creative freedom? Check. Challenges that force me to think outside the box push me to evolve as an artist. You already know.
Architectural photography can have many intentions. My job is ultimately figuring out what assets will serve my client’s goal. I am grateful when a client comes around who shares my aesthetic enthusiasm and is collaborative but gives me the space to create. It’s not often I do it within the context of real estate as most of my clients the last few years have either been architects or hospitality brands.
Photographing a home for sale is vastly different than documenting the design on behalf of the parties involved in creating it. Priorities often conflict, hence why I don’t typically market myself as a “real estate” photographer. I focus on creating intimate, moody vignettes with a handful of hero shots; however, luxury listings need to focus on the variables that would entice someone to drop a fortune, so they need to show views, size, and amenities. Thankfully, my client Renier Casanova is an architectural savant and has a personal appreciation for this home. He understood this home needed to be shot with a more artistic approach, and I’ll always be grateful to him for that.
The hero shot was also particularly challenging. I loaded the camera onto my 25-foot tripod (though did not need to go that high for this) and proceeded to light paint the car and other elements like the tree in the foreground and some of the landscaping. Made sure to keep the composition within the line of sight of the diamond window on the front doorway in the background. The Volkswagen “Thing” drove in to save the day and added that slice of life to the scene. I love having clients who can call in favors at a moment’s notice.
The Architecture
Villa Serenita is one of Miaim’s OG flagship properties, designed by its OG architect Walter De Garmo: the first to be registered in the city ( and who coincidentally is buried in the cemetery a block from my apartment). The original architecture was expanded upon by Portoundo-Perotti Architects to such a fine degree that one can’t tell where the original house ends and the expansion begins. Even the ironwork was replicated to exact degrees.
The house exemplifies Mediterranean Revival architecture, renowned for its fusion of Spanish, Moorish, and Italian Renaissance, which is probably why this feels more like a European villa than a South Beach “try hard” crypto pad. More Sean Connery’s Bond less Burn Notice. Those who have seen the photos or the house in person (myself included) say the same thing: “It feels like it doesn’t belong here.” And we mean that as a compliment. Entire portions of the house are international imports from the guest bathroom (Europe: pictured towards the end of the article) to the massive rubber tree in the courthouse (India).
Fun fact: The house was featured on some episodes of Miami Vice.
Welcome To Jurassic Park…
My personal favorite component of the home is the landscaping oasis that permeates the property. A Centurian Banyon Tree guards the grounds and provides an epic backdrop for entertaining and quiet reflection. Courtyards and pools integrate indoor and outdoor elements to alleviate all sources of stress better than any Xanax ever could. The property’s colorful resident dinosaur ancestors (Peacocks) make their share of appearances throughout the day and go a long way to convince you that his could pass for John Hammond’s private residence in Jurassic Park. Meanwhile, eclectic interior design adds a whimsical guessing game of discovery as you meander throughout the home.
Timeless architecture is well suited for Miami’s subtropical climate. Read below to get the details of the experience and keep an eye out for the captions that will reveal specific steps for how their respective photos were created.
The light on the house’s facade and landscaping was created 100% by my strobes. The sun rises and sets behind the house this time of year, so I cheated the perspective a bit at sunset by setting up my strobes 25 feet in the air camera right, so it can still “feel” like the light could theoretically come from the sun. CTO gels enhanced the illusion by warming the light color to match the sun. We didn’t want the shadows to be too harsh, so I then blended shots featuring just ambient light to “soften” the image a bit. The result is a final composition with texture and direction in the lighting without being too “dramatic.” An added layer of complexity for this image came from not being able to back up far enough to get the whole scene in the frame. So I had to shift my tilt-shift lens around and stitch it in post. I had to do it twice. Once for all the flash layers. And once with just natural light. Then I lined up the two “panoramic” stitches in Photoshop and painted to to taste to blend the two.
Another example of what could have been a boring, flat image texturized by warm strobe lighting just off camera left. I fired the flash behind some foliage to create some natural shadows on the door and blended it with ambient frames to soften them a bit and give a natural, early morning experinece.
Some Bespoke Interiors
Bespoke is my new favorite word, and lately, life has given me plenty of excuses to use it. Look at this interior design. Can you honestly think of a better description?
The decor is an amalgamation of a funky life well lived and traveled. Too many homes in South Florida roll out from the same assembly line of tacky, basic home decor. The same Aesop Soaps in the bathroom, furniture, color palette, and art are all copied verbatim from Ocean Drive Magazine. This place feels like someone made it home.
Each room is its own eclectic emporium of discovery. A feast of charms. Grand glassblown chandeliers, and a goldmine of rare first edition books filling built-in shelving and framed by wallpaper straight out of a Wes Anderson movie.
The Living Room’s arched windows provide tons of natural light and allow the eyes to rest on the tropical landscape outside. The beamed ceilings add sophistication and flair with intricate painted designs. It’s the statement piece in a house full of things that demand your attention.
It might seem like a simple photograph, but I spent more time shooting this room than any other shot from this project. Lighting was difficult to shape as there are large windows in every corner of this room. The natural light is what we would resentfully call a “light sandwhich.” When everything is evenly exposed, nothing is interesting. It took me almost two hours to properly block off the right light augment with my flashes to get some shape and depth in the scene while still preserving that airy “natural light” feel of the space.
I love this shot. I love this room. Easily my favorite interior shot of a home I’ve ever taken. The room was initially a bit cluttered so we had to move some furniture around. But otherwise, it was a fairly simple shot that was mostly captured in camera and needed minimal post-processing. The window curtains had similar diffusing properties to something like magic cloth, so I closed them and fired my flashes through them creating this lovely, creamy soft but directional light that perfectly emulates natural sunlight. I’d bet my camera kit that none would be the wiser had I not just revealed it.
Lighting in the master bedroom followed the same approach as the family room: My flashes were set up just beyond the french doors leading to the balcony, and I used the room’s thick, natrually diffused curtains as giant softboxes that directed a large swath of soft, directional light into the room. It was the easiest shot to get in camera.
The Photography Experience
December turns Miami into paradise on Earth resulting in complicated feelings for the city best expressed through “love bombing” until spring brings back that sticky humidity. Unfortunately, the shoot landed on the cloudiest, gloomiest days of the month. We’ve had nothing but clear blue skies since. Additionally, the front of the house receives zero direct sunlight this time of the year. I’d have had to settle for “soft” flat lighting for the exterior without my strobes. That’s not normally a bad thing. Lots of architecture looks great like that But we needed that punch for this project. We wanted those colors to pop. We wanted to trigger our audience’s senses by invoking a feeling of a temperate Mediterranean climate where one can stroll through the villa, eating figs or grapes from the vine. The women could wear long dresses, and nobody would break a sweat.
We architectural photographers like to say that “bad weather” makes for great photos. But my client rightfully did not want photos that made the house look like the mansion from the OG Resident Evil game. So I had to find a way to balance my architectural lens with the need to sell sunshine and beauty.
Enter my 25-foot tripod and a ton of flash. Remember how I said that my favorite shoots challenge me in new ways? Well, this takes the cake. I’ve been emulating sunlight for years, but it’s much easier to do it right with interiors. Exteriors are limited by how high you can normally place the light. Flash from will never be as convincing, so I usually leave it for twilight shots when light is more motivated by windows and practical lamps throughout the scene rather than the sun.
My aforementioned tripod is often used for my camera to get otherwise impossible, elevated compositions. However this time I turned it into a light stand. I rigged the strongest Light I own to it and raised it to maximum height and power to create more realistic, directional “sunlight.” The advancement in sensor technology has come so far these days, and it allows me to get more juice from my lights by cranking my camera’s ISO without compromising image quality.
Many of the exterior shots featured in this project were lit entirely with artificial light, which I made sure to position in directions that were consistent with the sun’s position to make the viewer believe it was all natural.
The shot directly below this paragraph provides a clear distinction as to the impact that artificial light can have on an image. This vignette of the home’s facade could have easily been a sad, gloomy affair. A simple elevated light turns into a warm summer morning.
Artificial light or natural? Who cares? It’s one the more satisfying detail shots for me right down to the table set up. I used the 25 Foot tripod as a light stand to mimic hard, directional sunlight.
The same composition of the daytime facade was replicated for twilight. This time the light was motivated by the warm incandescent glow of the windows balanced with soft twilight blue.
Here the camera is perched about 25 feet off the ground to clear the wall of bushes that provide privacy to the backyard. I used flash to light parts of the foliage, the pool, and the house in a way that makes it feel like it’s coming from the lights in and around the house. For a warm/cool twilight contrast.
Peacock Theory
Remember the cover image? I haven’t forgotten. I promised you the details. That shot was not planned. I was standing in the backyard chewing on an idea for a photo. I wanted a vignette of the master balcony framed by the imposing banyan tree that guards the whole property. I figured an elevated perspective would do the trick and was ready to call it a day. I had to go to my car to get a fresh battery for my Cam Ranger, and as I was beginning to walk back, the neighbor’s giant black Labrador Retriever charged through the streets on a mission to terrorize a flock of wandering peacocks. What followed could have passed for a Tom and Jerry episode as predator and prey rustled in and out of the bushes until the peacocks suddenly remembered “Hey we can fly, can’t we?” They leaped to the roof, and that’s when the sparks flew in my brain. I sprinted to the backyard to connect the cam ranger and popped off some shots just as the birds entered the frame.
For those unfamiliar with South Florida oddities: Coconut Grove has been home to a breeding population of non-native peacocks for almost a hundred years. The birds are native to parts of India and Africa but were kept as exotic pets by people with too much money on their hands. As you can imagine, the birds escaped and felt right at home in the neighborhood’s lush green canopy. They have no natural predators and are protected by state and local laws that prohibit their removal, so they’ve been living their best life in the 305. The birds are considered nuisances by local property owners because they can be quite aggressive, are loud with their mating calls, and can cause their share of property damage with their sharp claws and the acidity in their droppings. Yup, you read that right, their poop is corrosive enough to damage cars and homes. But they make for stunning additions to my photos, so I welcome them with open arms.
Architectural photography is mostly a slow development. “Hurry up and wait.” as we like to say. But there’s plenty of room for a quick draw. I always keep a spare camera strapped around my neck to catch spontaneous vignettes. Here I was able to fire my R5c with 70-200 just as this fella leapt into the frame. Fun fact, iron shape in the middle of the concrete fence aligns perfectly with the Key Biscayne Light House off in the distance.
Nature can be stubborn. But there’s no crying in Architectural photography. We make our own light.