In early December of 2005, it was business as usual at The Raleigh Hotel, which is to say, a total cyclone of whirling excitement as the art world et. al. shuffled through the lobby, kissing and chatting and drinking and doing all the things that have become the clichés of Art Basel Miami Beach. The Raleigh was André’s first Floridian foray and was already the absolute center of everything. So intoxicating were the hotel’s old-school charms and sinuous turquoise pool, it seemed hard to imagine any place else.
“Eh, it’s too shady over here," we were told. “Just wait until you see The Standard.” A year later, it was finally, finally, finally open and life on the beautiful, sun-all-day-long, lush tropical isle seemed as though it has always been.