The Residences at Mandarin Oriental, Miami

The Letter

A Letter of Welcome

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Dear friend,

You hold an invitation. On One Island Drive, the final parcel of Brickell Key, Swire Properties — placemaker of this island for more than four decades — and Mandarin Oriental Hotel Group are raising two towers above Biscayne Bay: The Residences at Mandarin Oriental, Miami.

We do not write to you of towers, though Kohn Pedersen Fox has drawn them to hold the morning light. We write of a house — one you reach by crossing water, where the fan is raised once more over the bay it has long called its own, and where legendary service is not an occasion but a habit of the household.

Consider the pages that follow our private correspondence. Read them slowly, as letters are meant to be read. The island is patient; so are we.

With every courtesy, The House at One Island Drive, Brickell Key

Delightful Encounters

Legendary Service. Delightful Encounters.

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To arrive is already a ceremony. You cross the water and the city lowers its voice behind you; beneath the porte-cochère, the house is expecting you — your name remembered, the door already open, the evening already arranged.

This is the discipline of the fan, kept since The Mandarin in Hong Kong and The Oriental in Bangkok, and now devoted to a private address: a household that anticipates rather than responds, discreet in everything, absent in nothing.

The Salons

The Rooms of the House

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The house keeps more than one hundred thousand square feet of gardens and salons above the bay. Eleven pools, among them a lagoon laid between palms; a flagship Mandarin Oriental spa; a forest yoga lawn and a hammock garden; a tea pavilion at the water’s edge, where the afternoon is measured in porcelain.

None of it is called an amenity here. Each is a room of the house, written into the day like a standing engagement — the cold plunge before breakfast, the sky bridge to the hotel, tea at four.

The Table

The Table Is Kept for You

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Some evenings ask for a private dining room and a chef at work behind glass; others for the wine cellar and its tasting table, where a single bottle decides the hour. And on the long, bright afternoons there is the café beside the pool — linen, citrus, the bay a few steps away.

The table, like everything in this house, is set before you think to ask.

The Residence

Your Own Suite of Rooms

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Past the private elevator and your own foyer, the residence opens — two to five bedrooms under ceilings of eleven feet, terraces that carry the rooms out over the water, the bay present at every window.

In the South Tower, the interiors are by Tristan Auer, in his American debut; in the North, by Laura Gonzalez. Two hands, one instruction: rooms composed for a long life, not a first impression.