Miami is known for its year-round tropical climate, vibrant arts scene, and diverse neighborhoods. For Trope Miami, the eleventh volume in our City Edition series, we found photographers who captured the city through their own lens. In Part 1 of this two-part series, we're going Behind the Shot with six of them, hearing in their own words, the story behind some of their favorite shots.
View of Ocean Drive. Photo taken by Paulo Shishido.
My 'Wheels Up' photo, as I’ve come to call it, was captured in July of 2024 during one of the hottest and most humid afternoons I can remember. My best friend @jonjonvisuals and I joined another one of our good friends, @brian.demby, on one of his SoBe Sunday outings. Up until this image, I felt I didn't get anything that stood out, but I was still enjoying a day out photographing SoBe with the homies. We needed a bit of a break from the scorching heat and wanted a drink of water and a bathroom break, so we made our way to Starbucks at the end of Ocean Drive on 14th.
After leaving the bathroom, I did not see Brian or Jonathan. I walked out of Starbucks looking around for them and spotted them photographing kids busting tricks on their bikes in the middle of the street at the end of Ocean Drive. At that part of Ocean Drive, the street is closed off to traffic, essentially giving us a stage to do what we do. Brian and I started photographing D2 popping wheelies in the middle of the street (the kid on the bike) from the storefront side of Ocean Drive near the palm tree you see in the final image. I then moved to the middle of the street, getting some lower angle shots of D2 popping wheelies right next to me. But then I asked him to pop another wheely crossing the pocket of light in the middle of the street. This time, I moved to the sidewalk to line up with the light and waited for him to cross in front of it. I lowered my shutter speed as it was extremely bright, and I didn’t want to overly underexpose my shot. I almost didn’t even get the shot as D2 was quick to pop a wheelie while I was in the middle of adjusting my shutter. One shot. I showed it to Brian, and he said, "That's it.”
I wasn’t overly excited about it at first, but thought it was a cool shot, nonetheless. It wasn’t until I went to edit the photo and really bring out the shadow of the bike being cast on the street that it gave me that "oh damn!?" feeling. It’s been one of the more, if not one of the most accomplished images I’ve captured to date.
This shot represents the freedom to do what you enjoy and love. It also reminds me of when I was a kid riding my bike. Being free to ride your bike with your friends/family, the simple things, the very essence of being a kid, in my opinion. You may not always capture that "money shot", but this image represents the journey and not necessarily the destination; so far, it’s been a hell of a ride!
Ana Secui
View of Rickenbacker Marina. Photo taken by Ana Secui.
I took this shot during a trip to Miami while hanging out with friends at Hobie Island Beach Park on Virginia Key. Since it was meant to be a relaxed beach day, I left my heavy digital camera behind and brought only my Minolta AF50—a point-and-shoot film camera that’s been in my family since I was a kid. I still take it on vacations, and I’m always amazed it’s still working. I paired it with Kodak Portra 400 for those warm vintage vibes.
Later, on our way to a local spot for food and drinks, we stumbled upon a massive marina boatyard. We were all captivated by the volume of jet skis and boats, stacked high in vertical racks. It felt so quintessential to Miami’s boat culture that I had to take a picture of it. The nostalgic warmth of the film really brought the moment to life, turning a casual roadside observation into one of my favorite shots of the trip.
Tino Schmalfuss
View of Hotel Breakwater. Photo taken by Tino Schmalfuss.
It was my first time back in Miami after ten years and it was meant to be the beginning of a trip through Southern Florida. We planned to spend three days in Miami and I intentionally booked a hotel right on Ocean Drive. After the long flight, my family went to bed early to catch up on some sleep and deal with the jet lag. I used the opportunity to grab my camera gear and head out on my own.
Walking north along Ocean Drive, I was still overwhelmed by the vibrant street life and wasn't quite sure what to shoot or how to approach the scenes in front of me. After a while, a waste bin with a shiny metal surface on the sidewalk caught my eye. I thought it could make an interesting foreground, especially with the intensely colored bars and hotels in the background. The only problem was that the streets, especially the sidewalk, was packed with people. I had to wait around 15 minutes before there was finally a large enough gap in the crowd.
Fortunately, a woman in a neat dress crossed the street and entered the scene. I waited until she reached a good position within the frame, and then I took the shot.
Mali
View of Freedom Tower and Biscayne Bay. Photo taken by Mali.
I traveled from Chennai, India, to Miami to attend a conference. While exploring the city, walking its streets and riding through its neighborhoods, I found myself constantly looking up. Miami's architecture, its blend of historic landmarks and modern skylines, fascinated me.
I decided to dedicate one full day solely to photography. No meetings, no agenda, just my camera and the city.
Early that morning, as I stepped out from my hotel, I was greeted by this breathtaking scene. The warm Florida sunshine, the dramatic clouds, the iconic Freedom Tower standing proudly against the skyline, and the quiet waterfront all came together for just a few fleeting moments. It felt as though the city had paused to put on a show.
I knew I could capture the frame, but I also knew the photograph could never fully contain what I was experiencing. The breeze, the warmth of the morning sun, the scale of the skyline, and the feeling of standing there alone, as all of that lives only in my memory.
That's what makes this photograph so special to me. It isn't just a view of Miami; it's a reminder that while a camera can freeze a moment, some emotions can only be carried home in your heart. Seeing this image become part of Trope Miami feels like sharing a memory I once thought only I could experience.
Alexy Poutrel
View of Matheson Hammock Park & Marina. Photo taken by Alexy Poutrel.
When you live in Miami, one of the most beautiful and magical experiences is watching the sunrise. It became one of my specialties. Every morning, I would wake up long before dawn and head to Matheson Park, hoping to witness one of nature's most extraordinary performances. Before sunrise, the park is almost completely dark and empty. You never know what you'll find or what colors the sky will reveal. I remember that morning vividly. It had rained heavily throughout the night, and the lake had overflowed, creating a perfect mirror beneath the palm trees. I silently hoped the sky would reward me with something exceptional- something worthy of a photograph that could capture the magic of that fleeting moment. So, I waited. Often surrounded by mosquitoes, I stood there in the darkness, knowing that what I was waiting for could never be recreated. Nature never repeats itself. I have always been deeply in love with the natural world, and that morning remains one of my most treasured memories of Miami. As the sun began to rise, the sky suddenly burst into flames, painting the clouds with breathtaking colors.
It was one of the most wonderful moments of my life. A moment I will never forget.
View of Ocean Drive. Photo taken by Alexy Poutrel.
Most people think Miami comes alive at night. I discovered its true soul just before sunrise.
While the city was asleep, I would wander the empty streets of South Beach with my camera, searching for those fleeting moments that only exist between darkness and daylight. The neon lights were still glowing, the streets were silent, and the only sound was the wind moving through the palm trees.
That morning, it had just rained. A puddle on the sidewalk caught my attention, transforming the street into a mirror. I crouched down and waited. Sometimes photography isn't about finding extraordinary places–it's about seeing the extraordinary in ordinary moments. Then someone quietly sat on a bench, lost in their own thoughts, illuminated only by the soft glow of a phone and the last neon lights of Ocean Drive. They never noticed me. They became part of the composition, adding a quiet human story to an otherwise empty city. Miami is often associated with luxury, nightlife, and endless energy. But at dawn, it reveals another face, one that is peaceful, intimate, and almost cinematic. This photograph reminds me that the most beautiful moments are often the ones no one else is awake to witness.
William Self
View of 17th Street Lifeguard Tower. Photo taken by William Self.
I’ve always felt that luck plays a big role in photography. On this particular early morning in Miami, I set out to explore the beach before the Spring Break crowds arrived.
The iconic lifeguard stations of Miami Beach caught my interest, as well as the interest of every other early bird. I found this station particularly interesting because I loved its curvy shape and the series of beach umbrellas in complementary colors behind it.
Looking for a unique vantage point, I lowered my camera to just a few inches off the sandy ground. I often find that going low can help emphasize depth in a scene. As I was composing my shot, a smartphone-toting woman had entered my frame, taking her own photos of the station. She was a welcome addition to the scene, and I quickly snapped off a few shots before she carried on with the rest of her morning. It was a serendipitous moment; what started as a simple architectural study suddenly included both the human element and a sense of scale. Without her, the shot would not resonate in the same way.
I fully accept that happy accidents and serendipitous moments often make the difference between a good shot and a great shot.
View of South Beach. Photo taken by William Self.
I consistently make an effort to incorporate the human element into most of my photography, but sometimes I decide to capture images that are completely void of people, especially if it’s a scene where you would expect to find them.
In the case of these pink beach lounge chairs and umbrellas, neatly laid out in the early hours of a Miami morning, I thought the absence of people might provoke curiosity. Why would such an inviting beach scene be so barren? There’s a suggestion of this being the calm before the storm; in this instance, stripping away the human element allows the environment to speak for itself.