D6 N THE NEW YORK TIMES, THURSDAY, JUNE 25, 2020It was 3:37 a.m. on Atlantic Avenue in
Brooklyn when Lewis Miller let out a sigh of
relief.
“Right here is my happy place,” said Mr.
Miller, a 46-year-old florist and guerrilla
artist. After zhushing a coral peony and
throwing in a few gerbera daisies, he stood
back to consider the framing of his 6-by-4-
foot orange-hued flower heart: black pave-
ment, white crosswalk lines, a “No Turns”
sign, the marquee of Barclays Center cast-
ing a quote from the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther
King Jr. — “The time is always right to do
what is right” — into the early-morning
dark.
“We’re good,” he said. “Let’s go.”
The heart was one of four “flower flashes”
— Lewis Miller Design’s signature — that
New Yorkers would wake up to on June 16.
Though he has surreptitiously placed these
elaborate arrangements for years, Mr.
Miller’s pandemic-era flashes, around a
hospital lamppost or in a Midtown garbage
can, have been met with particular enthusi-
asm. Social media viewers from around the
world have sent him hundreds of heartfelt
letters and fan art. Bette Midler raves about
his work on Instagram.“During good times, flowers are awe-
some; we all know that,” Mr. Miller said.
“But now more than ever we need flowers in
the city. Who isn’t looking for a little joy?”
“This is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen
in a long time,” said an observer who had
ventured over from Fourth Avenue, a rick-
ety cane in each arm.
Irini Arakas Greenbaum, whose job in-
cludes scouting locations for Mr. Miller
(“I’m always on the hunt for the Kate Moss
of garbage cans,” she said), offered him a
free spirit rose.
“Nah,” he said. “I’m so super pretty al-
ready.” She insisted. “OK,” he said. “I’m go-
ing to see a homeless girl and give it to her.
Spread the love!” Mr. Miller told the man to
stay safe. Then he jumped into a large white
van carrying some 12,000 flowers in the
back.
“It’s like driving around a hundred wed-
ding cakes,” said Manny Mejia from behind
the wheel. Despite a few potholes, the daisy
mums and stardust roses emerged un-
scathed at the second installation site, in
Fort Greene. Mr. Miller zip-tied the heart
onto a green C train entrance under the eye
of “Comandante Biggie,” a mural of the No-
torious B.I.G. flanked by white doves.
As Tawana Schlegel, a florist with the
company, softened the heart’s curves with
lilies placed in messy perfection, Mr. Miller
noticed a Cellino & Barnes ad above the sub-
way entrance. “Is that even a real phone
number?” he asked no one in particular
about all those eights, while sweeping upfallen petals and a bonus used cotton swab.
Before bolting he grabbed a mister of
Crowning Glory from the van to give the ar-
rangement a spritz, because like so many
New Yorkers, lilies need extra hydration.
Crossing the illuminated Manhattan
Bridge to the third site, in SoHo, Mr. Miller
pondered the future. “What’s our city going
to look like in three months?” he said. Al-
most all of this year’s gigs were canceled,
and early 2021 events were already being
postponed. Though Mr. Miller has paid for
past flashes himself, he accepted 1,200 roses
donated from a fan with a farm in Ecuador
for this one, as well as some funding from
L.E.A.F., an organization that puts on flower
festivals.
“I’m not opposed to taking money,” he
said, noting his installations for Equinox,
Old Navy and one businessman who re-
quested a custom flash for his wife as a
lunch-break surprise. “But for these there
needs to be integrity or my joy is dead.”
By 4:47 a.m. on Spring Street, the deep
hum of garbage trucks was serenading Mr.
Miller’s crew as they placed a purple heart
against a blood-red wall of graffiti: “We
may be alone, but together we’ll conquer.”
Mr. Miller rounded out the design with
rhododendron while Ms. Schlegel threw in
an extra allium, the onion-family flower that
could double as a Willy Wonka lollipop.
“We always joke about how a good flash is
both confident and cavalier, but the true se-
cret sauce is the city,” Mr. Miller said. “I’ve
seen street art everywhere from Nashvilleto L.A., and it’s just not the same. There are
certain things that just work best in New
York.”
But street art doesn’t always cooperate.
Dismayed by a dark patch of wall not pro-
viding adequate color contrast, Ms. Arakas
Greenbaum pulled Mr. Miller aside to dis-
cuss options. Move the heart? White spray
paint? Mr. Miller came up with another so-
lution involving what some consider to be
the floral equivalent to a vending machine
hamburger.
“Carnations have gotten a bad rap,” he
said, after adding a few white and purple-
tipped ones he had on hand. “They’re beau-
tiful flowers that smell like nutmeg and
have a high petal count.” (If any stem snobs
are wondering, Mr. Miller would take a car-
nation any day over a moth orchid or even,
he whispered, the “overrated” calla lily.)
The cobblestone plaza on Gansevoort
Street was the final stop, empty at 5:21 a.m.
The team lay down giant cardboard stencils
of Milton Glaser’s “I NY” logo on the
street and replaced them with bold blooms.
Mr. Miller poked and prodded the red heart,
yanking out a rose here, situating a caladi-
um leaf there. Ms. Arakas Greenbaum
climbed to a fifth-floor walk-up’s fire escape
to get the aerial view as four pigeons wan-
dered by.
“I wish it looked like St. Mark’s Square,”
Mr. Miller said, sprinkling his breakfast
granola bar over the work. By 6:27 a.m., the
morning flocks, avian and human, were
milling.Long Night of ‘Flower Flashing’
A beloved New York florist and
guerrilla artist is reanimating
the slowly reopening city.
By JESSICA SHAWLewis Miller
knows we need
blooms now
more than ever.
Lewis Miller finishing an installation at the corner of Fulton Street and South Portland Avenue in Brooklyn, above, where the Barclays Center area, top, also
got a floral tribute from his team. Center right, the flash tour van starting to empty out. Above right, flower preparation at George Rallis Wholesale Florist.
PHOTOGRAPHS BY NINA WESTERVELT FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES