Word: fontainebleau
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...credo of Architect Morris Lapidus of Miami Beach is simple and to the point: put your money where it shows. Such cathedrals of pleasure as the Eden Roc, Americana and Fontainebleau (pronounced Fountain Blue) hotels give abundant evidence that Lapidus is a disciple of excess. With freewheeling showmanship, he is trying to develop an "alphabet of ornament" that will provoke an emotional revolt against the austerity of modern architecture. In the midway atmosphere of Miami Beach and other resort areas, Lapidus, 57, finds the perfect outlet for the "new sensuality" expressed in his terrazzoed palazzos. "They call my hotels corn...
...modern. With exaggeration that verges on caricature, he splashes his hotels with colorful bordello opulence that offends traditionalists, flabbergasts sophisticates and often delights the uninitiated. Lapidus takes pride in the fact that he gives people "something to gape at.'' In fact, he calls his arced, 565-room Fontainebleau a "tasteful three-ring circus." But the star turn among his hotels is the $17 million Americana, which he designed right down to the bellhops' uniforms. In the lobby of the hotel is a glass-enclosed terrarium, open on top so that the lobby can be rained into without...
...gone out of store design, and Lapidus branched into architecture on his own. For several years he worked mainly as a hotel doctor, adding his bright touches to the redesign of resort hotels. In 1954 he got his first major Miami Beach commission, designed the $15 million Fontainebleau...
Puffing cigarettes, cigars and pipes until the smoke taxed the air conditioning at Miami Beach's plush hotel Fontainebleau, the men who know tobacco best gathered this week to pay homage to the persistence of one of the world's most widespread habits. More than 11,000 strong, the delegates to the annual convention of the National Association of Tobacco Distributors?which sells 75% of all U.S. tobacco products?peered at exhibits that traced tobacco from field to lip, critically taste-tested piles of free cigarettes, jostled happily through luncheons, dinners, parties. But the greatest pleasure of all was just...
That day in Fontainebleau he was operational duty officer, assigned to a tiny group who must wait for the fearsome word that the enemy has launched an attack. Had the word flashed over the "Red Telephone," it would have been Schiltz's responsibility to set all the land forces of Central Europe into action. But that night at dinner-it was carnival time back home-the major had a few too many glasses of wine. He did not get back to sitting beside the Red Telephone...