Bal Harbour

T o call the Museum of Ice Cream a phenomenon is an under- statement. It's a pop-up, cheekily institutional experience envisioned by founder and creative director Maryellis Bunn and co-founder Manish Vora—and it is now a world- famous feat, thanks to its infinitely Instagram-able angles and its celebrity endorsements. But beyond the splash, the concept is oddly genius—and it speaks to a shift in how we, the public, expect to be entertained. The company is only about a year and a half old, and both Bunn, a Californian in her 20s, and Vora, a New Yorker in his 30s, had prior work experience in the production realms. She, a Parsons School of Design graduate, was a creative strategist who had worked on activations for companies including Time Inc., Forbes, Facebook and Instagram. He's ex-Wall Street, and, before the museum's beginnings, was CEO of Lightbox, an immersive events and digital arts space in New York. It was Bunn who had the idea: "I wanted to make a world," she says, before recalling a lifelong obsession with ice cream. "My favorite flavor was vanilla… it is now Piñata. Break the surface and you don't know what you'll get." Previewing the Museum of Ice Cream's newest location, which officially opened in Miami Beach at the tail-end of December's Art Basel Week in the Faena District, Bunn expands upon the Museum of Ice Cream's origins. "The culmination sort of has three prongs," she says. "One, I was looking to create an experience that could be enjoyed by both adults and children—kind of like an enclave from the outside world. How do we transform a space that might alter human behavior? Then, I thought, ice cream is a universal medium. So many people love it, and so many people have stories about it. And lastly, there's an aspect of nostalgia as well." In Los Angeles and New York City, MOIC has already come and gone. San Francisco's version is still going strong, and Miami's looks poised to do the same with an extended run into early spring. It's part theme park, part movie set, with walls painted warm pink (Pantone 1905c, to be exact), faux palm trees of the same hue, popsicle sculptures, ice cream cone props and a phalanx of buoyant, bubbly attendants to see you through its chambers. There's also the Museum of Ice Cream's most famous attribute, which is installed in all of its locations: the Sprinkle Pool. The basin is filled with nearly 100,000,000 antimicrobial faux sprinkles that feel strangely therapeutic against bare skin. "What makes the Miami property unique," says Vora, "is that we really wanted to give a sense of the city that many people might not see. Of course, it's tropical, but it's multicultural as well—we play Latin dance music on the second floor. Super vibrancy was key. We also have an exclusive ice cream flavor here—Key Lime." DESTINATION ELATION The Museum of Ice Cream is an Instagram phenom. We tour its latest incarnation in Miami Beach to visit with its founder, Maryellis Bunn. BY NICK REMSEN 62 BAL HARBOUR COURTESY OF KATIE GIBBS o call the Museum of Ice Cream a phenomenon is an under- statement. It's a pop-up, cheekily institutional experience envisioned by founder and creative director Maryellis Bunn and co-founder Manish Vora—and it is now a world- famous feat, thanks to its infinitely Instagram-able angles and its celebrity endorsements. But beyond the splash, the concept is oddly genius—and it speaks to companies including Time Inc., Forbes, Facebook and Instagram. He's ex-Wall Street, and, before the museum's beginnings, was CEO of Lightbox, an immersive events and digital arts space in New York. It was Bunn who had the idea: "I wanted to make a world," she says, before recalling a lifelong obsession with ice cream. "My favorite flavor was vanilla… it is now Piñata. Break the surface and you don't know what you'll get." Previewing the Museum of Ice Cream's newest location, which officially opened in Miami Beach at the tail-end of December's Art Basel Week in the Faena District, Bunn expands upon the Museum of Ice Cream's origins. "The culmination sort of has three prongs," she says. "One, I was looking to create an experience that could be enjoyed by both adults and children—kind of like an enclave from the outside world. How do we transform a space that might alter human behavior? Then, I thought, ice cream is a universal medium. So many people love it, and so many people have stories about it. And installed in all of its locations: the Sprinkle Pool. The basin is filled with nearly 100,000,000 antimicrobial faux sprinkles that feel strangely therapeutic against bare skin. "What makes the Miami property unique," says Vora, "is that we really wanted to give a sense of the city that many people might not see. Of course, it's tropical, but it's multicultural as well—we play Latin dance music on the second floor. Super vibrancy was key. We also have an exclusive ice cream flavor here—Key Lime." Clockwise from above: the museum's Art Deco exterior; larger-than-life ice cream cone sculptures; creative director and founder Maryellis Bunn; a monochromatic forest of flamingo-pink trees, one of the many immersive installations.

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