Craig Robins and Karolína Kurková. An interview about aesthetics, art, and the quiet power of creation

In his light-filled office, where Warhol’s portraits of his mother and his wife’s mother gaze quietly into the space, time seems to slow down. It is here that Karolína Kurková, his longtime friend, sits across from him—not as a model or a muse, but as a woman who has witnessed not only Miami’s transformation but also the flow of energy that fuels it.

The leitmotif of their conversation is cities that live and breathe, art that changes the way we see, and the beauty of collaboration that transforms ideas into reality. It is a story of creation, connection, and a vision that endures.

Craig: Before we begin the interview—and we’ll surely talk about many things—I’d like to start with something that really captures it all, since we’re here in our offices in the Design District. Here’s a portrait that Andy Warhol painted of my mother, and right next to it on my desk is a portrait he made of my wife’s mother. So the three of us sit here and enjoy every day together.

Karolína: I remember when you showed me last year—you’re surrounded by important, beautiful women, mothers, and role models. What is the story behind those portraits?

C.: One day, after Jackie and I had been together for some time, we realized that both of our mothers had been painted by Andy Warhol. I’m not sure, but there may not be another couple in the world whose mothers were both portrayed by this brilliant 20th-century master. I called the Warhol Foundation and discovered that they still owned the original Polaroids—because Andy always started by having the model styled and then taking a series of Polaroid photos, which he later used to create the paintings. I bought those Polaroids and have one from each series on my desk. So I can look at our mothers as they appeared in the 1960s. It still fascinates and amazes me—especially because my close friend and brilliant collector, Carlos de la Cruz, owns a portrait of his mother painted by Salvador Dalí. On many levels, life is about connection—about these unexpected, beautiful intersections.

K.: Hello, hello. This is Vogue Czechoslovakia!

C.: In Miami, 2025.

K.: Craig, this is so special! I’ve lived in Miami for 13 years now, we’ve known each other that long, and I think I truly know you as a person. Not just who you are on the outside—an incredible entrepreneur, creator, art collector, and developer—but who you are inside—a great husband, a great father, a great friend. Today, I have the honor of interviewing you.

K.: This issue of Vogue Leaders is very much about design, art, creating spaces, and about how the world is connected—Europe versus the U.S., for example. We’ve never really talked about this, but have you ever been to the Czech Republic?

C.: Yes, Jackie and I were there about seven or eight years ago. It’s an amazing, beautiful place.

K.: How long did you stay?

C.: A few days. We were invited to an event organized by Louis Vuitton at the time and had the opportunity to explore Prague. We were blown away. We thought of you while we were there.

K.: What do you remember from Prague? What impressed you the most—the history, the architecture, the art?

C.: You know, we Americans tend to grow up with the idea that the United States is the center of the universe, and we don’t realize how young our country is. Then you go to a city like Prague—or Barcelona, where I studied for a while when I was younger—and as you walk through those neighborhoods, you realize that every building is older than the entire United States. You see history with your own eyes—stories about how the world has evolved. I don’t mean to put Americans down; it’s just that our country is so vast that we often lack that European perspective.

And one more thing—I love urban neighborhoods designed for pedestrians. In the U.S., it’s mostly about cars and traffic. Experiencing European cities, where people simply walk everywhere, was deeply inspiring for me.

K.: Did that inspiration influence how you built the Design District? Did you want to create a place in Miami where people could walk, see things, connect?

C.: From the beginning, I wanted to achieve two goals: first, to create a walkable, friendly neighborhood where people could live, work, have fun, and see amazing things. And second, to give culture the same importance as business.

By business, I mean things like renting an apartment, opening an office, or running a store. Culture in the Design District has always largely meant art, architecture, and design, although we’ve also integrated music. Whether you like all of this or not, whether you’re interested in art or not, it still affects you—it influences your psychology, your emotions, your mood. Some people look at a Picasso and say “wow,” some glance at it without much interest, but even then, it impacts their brain. That’s my philosophy.

If you look at our offices, they’re a microcosm of that philosophy. They were designed to be both a workplace and a space for displaying an art collection—a functional whole. That was the original goal for the Design District as well. It was once a neglected, relatively abandoned area. We started with furniture showrooms—that was the first business here. Historically, the neighborhood had been home to furniture showrooms, so we brought them back. Then we focused on connecting art, architecture, and design.

We helped bring Art Basel to Miami. Then we founded Design Miami. The DNA of the district was shaped by figures such as Zaha Hadid, who created the remarkable Elastika sculpture, or Marc Newson, who designed the wall surrounding the DASH school (Design and Architecture Senior High). When I entered into a partnership with L Catterton in 2010, it truly elevated the neighborhood: we brought in luxury brands that committed to fully expressing their maisons—from architecture to interior design to, of course, their product range.

We also share the same value system with L Catterton—we believe that good development must focus on more than the commercial aspect. We implemented projects like Buckminster Fuller’s Fly’s Eye Dome on Palm Court and parking garages that feature monumental, extraordinary works of art. A parking structure is usually the ugliest part of any development, but in the Design District, even the garages are art—and that’s a real asset to the neighborhood.

K.: In the beginning—almost 20 years ago—it must have been very hard to get big-name artists and architects involved in a place nobody knew yet, one you were just starting to build. What was the right approach? Personal relationships or your vision and conviction?

C.: A combination. I built meaningful relationships with creative people, and working with them has always been a joy. There’s always that deep connection—and a shared passion. Neither of us is trying to make a commercial deal; we’re working together to make the world better, with the awareness that creativity can do that.

But it was never really that hard, as you say… because where else in the world is culture given more weight than commerce—like in the Design District? Yes, we had furniture showrooms, but we also invested in making Art Basel an extraordinary experience in Miami.

People who came here—from the Centre Pompidou, the Guggenheim Museum, and other great institutions and galleries—began collaborating with us. Then the fashion brands came, and finally Design Miami, the most important collectible design fair in the world.

That gives you credibility. It wasn’t about trying to sell something—it was authentic. Of course, in the beginning it was a bit harder, but once Art Basel arrived, everything changed.

K.: But as you said, the key is relationships. You really have a gift for connecting people, especially artists and creatives, and for convincing them that you’ll listen to them and support them. Your approach isn’t about: “I’ll use you to make money.” You know that money will follow. You focus on creating something meaningful, beautiful, unique—and on bringing in the right people to make it happen.

C.: You’re right. Innovation—whether in space or in approach—seems difficult, especially for people who prefer not to change anything because they think it’s impossible. But every innovation is really just about taking existing elements and rearranging them in a way no one has tried before. It simply takes time for people to understand it.

It starts with just a few fans, then more. Every great rock band started by playing for 30 people in a bar before selling out stadiums.

Before the Design District, I had worked on South Beach and contributed to its revitalization, which became the catalyst for what Miami is today. I drew from that experience.

On South Beach, things started to come alive—it was amazing—but it was still a party city. And I love art and culture, so I didn’t like that the city I was born in was seen only as a place for parties and beach fun, but without soul.

I wanted more. I knew that Art Basel was the best art fair in the world, and that if we could bring it to Miami, we could transform it into a city of culture. I felt that combining this not-so-sexy fair with Miami’s charisma and excitement could be explosive.

At the same time, I loved attending Milan’s breathtaking Salone del Mobile. The whole city celebrated design! I thought: if you take the best art fair in the world, combine it with Miami’s energy, and add an element of Salone—it would be revolutionary.

We partnered with Art Basel, which supported us, and made it the anchor of our fair. The only other event we organized in the District at that time was Art Loves Design. It wasn’t easy logistically, but we sustained ourselves through furniture showroom rents, and instead of spending profits, we reinvested them into cultural events… The District became known, and we began to turn it into a business.

One day, Sam Keller—now director of the Fondation Beyeler—came to me with a problem: design galleries wanted to be at Art Basel, but the art galleries didn’t want them there. So Sam asked: “Craig, would you organize an event just for designers?” I said, “Of course.” In the Moore Building, we organized Design Miami. We introduced the Designer of the Year award and commissioned a new piece each year from the winner. I already mentioned Zaha Hadid—she was our first awardee and created Elastika in 2005.

K.: You travel a lot—which place inspires you the most? Where do you go for ideas?

C.: I have different places for different periods of my life. In my late teens and twenties, living in Spain was incredibly inspiring. First in Madrid—I liked art, but I didn’t know much about it. Then I walked into the Prado Museum and saw Goya’s works. I was mesmerized; I went back every day for a week, reading about his paintings.

Then in Barcelona, I was captivated by urbanism, Gaudí, then Dalí, Miró, and the Picasso Museum—all of which deepened my love for art. I even met Salvador Dalí in person. That period really shaped me. It wasn’t just about cities and places but about lived experiences.

In recent years, Paris has had a big influence on me—because of everything we do in fashion. And, of course, Milan, London, Switzerland…

And then, naturally, nature! The greatest luxury for me is to ride a bike through a beautiful landscape, to camp and paddle down a river, to feel the natural surroundings. That’s my number one choice—it recharges me. And it’s even more powerful after coming from a city. Shifting from Paris or New York to the Grand Canyon—that’s indescribable power.

K.: When you look at the next decade—how do you imagine the development of cities, especially Miami, in the era of digitalization, sustainability, and humanity? What comes next?

C.: Miami has always been more a city of the future than the past—and that’s its strength. Older cities are powerful, but often inefficient and rigid. Miami has freedom. This new era began with the restoration of the Art Deco district and then expanded. Today, you see neighborhoods like the Design District or Wynwood that didn’t even exist in people’s minds twenty years ago as they do now. Brickell and Coconut Grove have completely transformed.

The uniqueness of Miami lies in the fact that it’s both an urban center and a tropical paradise in one. That combination is our strongest magic. It’s also the most international city in the U.S.—Latin American, European, and now Asian influences all blend here.

The challenge now is infrastructure—connecting everything so it all works together. If that happens, Miami will continue to develop as one of the most interesting cities in the world.

K.: This issue of Vogue Leaders celebrates people who are redefining what success and beauty mean today. What is beauty to you—in people, leadership, architecture, design?

C.: Beauty has many layers. In nature, for example, I think of tall trees. I see beauty in art, architecture, and design—especially when I sense a connection with the landscape and nature. It’s always about creating an emotional connection. Beauty has physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual dimensions. When all of those come together, life is truly beautiful.

K.: You’ve accomplished so much and met so many incredible people. What are you most proud of?

C.: “Proud” isn’t quite the right word—but I’m most grateful for the partnership I have with my wife, Jackie.

K.: I remember being eight months pregnant at your wedding—and I danced all night!

C.: You looked fabulous.

K.: It was a beautiful wedding. Thank you for inviting me. You and Jackie truly have an extraordinary relationship. You’re both incredible at what you do—both powerhouses. It’s wonderful to see a woman and a man who are leaders in the same field and who support each other without competition. You’re happy, supportive, amazing parents. Despite all the responsibilities, pressure, and stress, you make time for family. You have dinner without phones. That says a lot about you—as parents and as people. I’m grateful to have seen that as your friend.

C.: Thank you.

K.: You’ve met so many remarkable people. But if you could choose anyone from history or the present—who would you like to meet, whom would you invite to dinner, or maybe on a bike ride?

C.: Hmm… there are so many. Religious figures like Jesus, Moses, the prophets—I’d love to meet them, not so much from a faith standpoint, but to see what they were like as people. And then Leonardo da Vinci, such a unique and multifaceted thinker. Or Einstein, probably the most important scientist in history. I’d love to have dinner with him, just to glimpse how his mind worked.

I’m an amateur when it comes to science, but I love reading about physics. I’m fascinated by people who have changed our understanding of the world—spiritually, creatively, or scientifically.

K.: I see you like to draw. Today I noticed your little sketchbook for the first time! Did you ever study formally, or did it develop later?

C.: When I was a child, an artist lived with us for a while and taught me how to draw. For me, drawing is therapeutic. I don’t consider myself an artist—it’s a mental exercise.

Writing is deeper for me. Harder. I do it less often, but I love it and try to push myself to do it more.

K.: When you’re on Zoom calls or handling big business meetings—when we can’t see you—do you draw during them?

C.: I don’t draw on Zoom calls, but when I sit at the table with my team, I talk with them—and I draw. There’s a kind of intimacy in that, a shared trust with my colleagues. If someone walked in whom I didn’t know, they’d probably think I was weird.

K.: I think it’s beautiful. As you said, it’s relaxing—to me, it feels like meditation, a way of going deeper into yourself, into your soul. And that’s something you do so well. You’ve shown that many times during this conversation. Thank you for letting me into your world and your thoughts today. Thank you for sharing your inspiring story.

C.: Thank you, too. Let’s go outside and take a photo!

As the interview ends, the light in Miami shifts into a soft, warm gold—like the final sentence of a story that keeps unfolding. In the quiet of his office, Craig Robins did not speak of power or success; he spoke of beauty, meaning, and gratitude. And perhaps that is his greatest work—not the buildings, not even the district itself, but the idea that beauty, when lived with intention, becomes its own being.