Be prepared to enjoy one of the most interesting conversations ever when you visit an artist’s studio and talk about art. Open your eyes when you arrive. You may see the amiable clutter that signifies a creative mind working, but you could also spot something to spark an engaging dialogue.
            As Frances Trombly, who’s shown intriguing art at David Castillo Gallery and the Museum of Contemporary Art in North Miami, recently told me, she welcomes opportunities to talk with people about her work. She’s not alone.
            Talk to an artist’s dealer about prices and other business matters.
            Talk to artists about art.
            How do you begin the conversation?  As soon as you enter the studio, look around. Often artists have their own collection of objects that inspire them. The objects artists cherish and keep with them as they work are a good place to start a conversation.
            The objects may surprise and startle you.  I recall wonderful conversations with artists about their favorite books, movies, poems, and objects they love collecting. Often those objects are amazing sources for art, somehow transformed by creative souls who see possibilities in items that most of us would hardly notice.
            I’ve talked with artists about why they collect model cars and vintage projection devices, which spurred memories of my pathetic attempts to comprehend Algebra I via overhead projectors.      
            That’s a good place to start talking. It’s fascinating how an object may for you trigger unpleasant associations, but for an artist it triggers endless creative possibilities. Most of the artists I’ve met love to talk about what excites their imagination.
            I’ve spoken with artists who collect fragments of coral, old maps, stuffed animals, plastic flowers, and Wonder Woman dolls. The artists and I often traded memories we have about these objects. In each case, our conversation about the collection has meandered into memorable discussions about art. I’ve walked away from studios with a broader understanding of ideas animating the art I’ve seen.
            After conversations I’ve had with artists in their studios, their art usually—but not always—seems more complex and interesting than one might think at first glance.
            There’s always the chance that a conversation in an artist’s studio may seem like a smooth sales pitch. Perhaps it is.
            But if you’re sincerely interested in understanding why certain artists make art, and are really listening, you may move beyond the sales pitch to a moment of perception.
            We all have our stories of why we live and work where we do. Miami is a magnet for artistic talent, with artists moving back to their hometown and with other artists making Miami their new hometown.
            You might ask artists where they’re from and why they’re here. It’s a fascinating way to experience the migratory essence defining Miami.
            I visited Magnus Sigurdarson in his studio at the ArtCenter/South Florida. Raised in Iceland, he came here after living and working as an artist in New York and New Jersey. “It was a culture shock. Big time,” he says. “I don’t speak Spanish. Miami isn’t America. Miami is the northern tip of Latin America. It’s not really what I thought.”
            His riveting photos in the series “I’m the Stranger,” shown at Kevin Bruk Gallery, boldly evoke migratory Miami. They’re self-portraits in which he’s washed up on the beach looking intensely out of place. He’s hard to recognize, with frazzled hair, bizarre make-up and purple nail polish.
            We talk about his Icelandic longing for travel. To this day, in his homeland traveling across the seas to find new places is called “going Viking.” Iceland is an island settled by Norwegian Vikings in the first millennium. A splendid literary tradition, the ancient Icelandic sagas, keeps that history alive. “I like long stories,” he says. “The sagas are part of my background. Literature is important in Iceland. It’s in your blood.”
            Literature leads me to another lively talk in the Design District studio of COOPER, who shows darkly compelling sculpture at Fredric Snitzer Gallery. He grew up here, and now works in Miami and New Mexico. We talk about his kinship with the weird mysteries of 19th Century American writer Edgar Allan Poe. He loves Poe’s macabre tales that keep you guessing. He’s fascinated by “what you don’t know, what happened in the house before you lived there, what’s under the grave.

This kinship between artists and writers rewards travelers in Miami looking for art beyond studios. At the museum Wolfsonian-FIU, don’t miss the exceptional bookstore and radiant stained glass window by Harry Clarke, depicting scenes from Irish literature. At Main Library downtown, check out stunning paintings by Ed Ruscha ringing the rotunda at the entrance. They depict Miami skies with impossible-to-forget words from Shakespeare.