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happens a few days of the year, and the rest of the time the Florida city is often pigeonholed as part sleepy snowbird commune, part party mecca. But, as I would soon discover, Miami offers a whole lot more to culture aficionados than just one festival — and it’s more accessible than ever.

The museums are modernizing

Forget dim mausoleums crammed with dusty Old Masters: the museums of Miami feel vibrant, alive and growing. All of the ones we visited offered exhibits that invited a childlike sense of play, of wonderment. Across from the entrance to , Miami Beach’s contemporary art museum, “We belong here” by Tavares Strachan is emblazoned in neon, and I felt it: at home, at ease among the work.

Inside, I was drawn most to the video art, including Rachel Feinstein’s eerie pastoral wedding video on loop, and (La)Horde’s compilation of everyday French citizens celebrating the joy of movement, despite the grind of life. I paused at the name of the latter exhibit: “Heureux sous son ombre.” Happiness under its shadow. In art we not only belong; we persevere.

Over at in the Allapattah neighbourhood, the immersive art showcases the resilience of nature: Touch one of TeamLab’s flower projections, for example, and it wilts and dies faster — but also regenerates sooner. Docents encouraged us to interact with the art, to affect how the work displays, moves, evolves. (Superblue is just one of a growing number of art hotspots in the industrial area; if you want more bang for your Uber buck, the excellent is right across the street.)

In another room, I saw Canadian artist Rafael Lozano-Hemmer’s poignant biometric artwork of 3,000 light bulbs. I watched several other travel writers record their heartbeat, which was then mapped to one single light bulb, replacing the oldest recording and joining the symphony of other recorded heartbeats, arcing above our heads. They smiled, seeing their own little signature, pulsing in the universe of light. I couldn’t help but grin, too.

The ballet and symphony are evolving

We also visited the actual symphony, which is often one of the more hidebound institutions in any city. But here in Miami, the symphony is also changing with the times, expanding its reach to draw in more music lovers. That includes tailgating — of a sort, anyway.

During our tour of the New World Center, our guide turned our attention to the sprawling lawn out in front. There, families and couples and other music fans (and their dogs) assemble on certain Saturday nights, when the symphony broadcasts free performances onto a giant screen. And it’s not the same old Brahms adagios, either. The opera we attended was quite zany: “The Kaiser of Atlantis” featured DIY puppet work, while “The Seven Deadly Sins” showcased a singer playing both sides of a split personality. (Usually this is done by two different performers.)

Similarly, over at the , they’re shaking things up. Before seeing “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” there, we made the pilgrimage to the headquarters. We learned that ol’ George Balanchine demanded that the production’s choreography, costumes and set design remain the exact same, forever and ever, amen. But a decade ago, the ballet wanted to do something a little different: They asked daddy Balanchine (well, applied to his trust) for permission to switch up the play’s vibe. Word came down that, yes, they could do some zhuzhing.

And so, scenic artist and costume designer Michele Oka Doner added a marine theme to this iteration of “,” drawing inspiration for the costumes from the over 500 bio-organisms that populate the Port of Miami and converting the roles into undersea creatures. Bottom, for example, turns into a seal instead of a donkey, which made me squeal with glee when I watched the ballet.

Art is everywhere

The vibes are unique even in the palm-studded , home to the bougiest of bougie stores. For one, there’s a lot of seating around, including an area filled with swinging chairs, where teens hang out, kicking up their feet and spinning around under a vine-thatched roof. Children clamber on play structures crafted out of hot-pink rebar. Need shelter from the hot Florida sun? Duck under the cloud-shaped art that looms overhead. (If your trip coincides with one of the design district’s , you can learn all about these pieces.)

We climb a set of stairs, so our guide can point out the artistic Easter eggs that pop into view from this vantage point: the Matthew Ritchie pattern adorning a roof, and a pair of humanoid statues perched atop a structure a few blocks away. “A lot is revealed when we change our perspective,” he says.

Even building facades are more interesting in this part of town, free of any pesky BIA control-freak behaviour. A Tiffany store is, for example, wrapped in custom paint-flecked art by Damien Hirst. The creativity extends to things as mundane as parking lots — just look at Buckminster Fuller’s giant white “Fly’s Eye Dome,” covering a humble garage entrance at Palm Court.

Hilariously, it’s not the only��fancy parking spot in the neighbourhood. A few blocks away, you can hit the for free, and park across the street in for just a couple bucks. And oh, these garages: One features a swirl of pop-art shapes, another a collection of black-and-white drawings, while a third is covered in gold and silver cars.

Because here in Miami, something as utilitarian as a parking garage can be elevated, even ethereal: beauty, free for all to see.

Briony Smith travelled as a guest of the , which did not review or approve this article.

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