Darryl Gibson has worked at some of the most important hospitality spaces of the last thirty years— The Standard, Chateau Marmont, Faena, and Bungalow 8. He was there when hotels stopped being just places to sleep and started becoming cultural destinations. Now as Senior Advisor at Cohere, he's helping shape the next generation of hospitality—bringing his deep understanding of operations but, more importantly, his instinct for assembling the right people to create the cultural spaces that define cities.
From Acting to Hospitality
I trained as an actor, but when I moved to New York in the mid-90s to pursue that dream, I took restaurant jobs to pay the bills. I was going to clubs like Limelight and Tunnel, and I was completely enthralled by all the pomp and circumstance around getting into these nightclubs—the fashion, the music, all different walks of life showing up. I thought, "I want to be on the other side of that rope." Not just inside the club, but on the other side looking out.
Working my way through downtown bars and restaurants, I learned something crucial. The owners, managers, bartenders, waiters—everybody was really responsible for making the whole thing a success. It was really about people coming to see us. That's where I learned the importance of taking ownership, even though you're not the owner.
The Amy Sacco Years: Building Bungalow 8
Amy Sacco gave me my big break. Everyone called Amy "the queen of New York City nightlife." There were all these comparisons to Steve Rubell and Studio 54 because she had the best of the best of fashion, music, publishing, art, entertainment—everyone flooding her places. I worked at Lot 61, her first project of her own, for about five years.
Then came Bungalow 8. It was meant to be like Bungalow 8 at the Beverly Hills Hotel, where notorious parties happened in the days of Marilyn Monroe and JFK, Sinatra and the Rat Pack. Amy didn't bend on her vision for it. She'd sent out these cards to members—they looked like hotel keys—which basically meant no matter what, you're coming in with your two or three people.
Then September 11th happened. That was the first night of Fashion Week, and the towers went down. For days, people weren't moving around the city. I remember Amy called me and said, "I've been thinking about opening up the bar." She said, "People need somewhere to go. People are afraid. People are alone. I know I am. I don't want to be alone. I'd rather hang out with my friends."
So we reopened, and those people that were invited to come in right after 9/11 became the Bungalow 8 regulars. That nurtured a community at a time when everybody really needed it.
At some point, Sex and the City wrote an episode about Carrie wanting to get a card to Bungalow 8. After the episode aired, the door was out of control. But inside, people felt really comfortable. You'd have Nicole Kidman next to a skater from Brooklyn in the same room, because once in, everybody was just a human being. Everybody was interesting. A lot of people that met at Bungalow went on to get married or start businesses together. All kinds of wild, magical things happened there.
"Once they were inside, everybody was just a human being. Everybody was interesting. A lot of people that met at Bungalow went on to get married or start businesses together. All kinds of wild, magical things happened there."
—Darryl Gibson
The Standard LA and the Chateau Marmont Era
When I moved to Los Angeles, I was working as an actor, and I realized how much I missed working in hospitality and meeting people.
I took a job working for André Balazs at The Standard to get in the mix and shake this boredom I was feeling. That was the first time I worked in a hotel, which presented a whole layer of operations I'd never had to think about. But André was really good at making the public spaces feel like not hotels. They were like nightclubs, to be honest.
All of the spaces in the hotel became stages for me to play around in. As a theater person, it was easy for me to see this as a show. That was when I started to understand that we were doing programming, though we didn't call it that yet. The staff were all so creative. And if you had an idea, you could raise your hand. There weren't layers of bureaucracy to get through. Everyone kind of felt like they could program the hotel as well.
"As a theater person, it was super easy for me to see this as a show all the time. That was when I started to understand that we were doing programming, though we didn't call it that yet. The staff were all so creative. And if you had an idea, you could raise your hand."
—Darryl Gibson
At Chateau Marmont, André wanted Bar Marmont to feel connected to the hotel. With the Chateau's prestige behind me, I saw an opportunity on the music side—while actors already frequented the hotel, we could bring in musicians. We attracted regulars like Prince and hosted Janelle Monáe before she was famous. She performed with a mic to DJ tracks until the equipment failed and she started an impromptu mosh pit, elegantly dressed. We also ran Giorgio's, LA's hottest party where middle-aged crowds danced to disco—I even danced with Mick Jagger there.
When HR asked me, "What is your title?" I said, "I don't know—Director of Culture?" Because it was just a cultural thing. I saw it that way. I believe I might have been the first, because there wasn't a role for that on a P&L or on a budget.
"When HR asked me, "What is your title?" I said, "I don't know—Director of Culture?" Because it was just a cultural thing. I saw it that way. I believe I might have been the first, because there wasn't a role for that on a P&L or on a budget."
—Darryl Gibson
Moving to Miami to Open Up Faena
Alan Faena flew me to Miami to meet. He is a visionary, I was excited by his passion and vision and uncompromising determination. All the collaborators too—Baz Luhrmann, Catherine Martin—all these wildly creative people working on a hospitality project. So I moved to Miami, because I could see what a difference this was going to make to the city and to the scene.
Hotel openings are hard. That was my third one, and it was the hardest opening I've done in my life. There are so many moving pieces. But in the end, when you open the doors and start to see it come alive, it's so rewarding. Faena, for whatever Miami Beach was at the time, was doing so many things so differently than everybody else.
I then returned to The Standard, this time in Miami. The attitude was that everything needed to be fun and cheeky. The hammam parties that happened—to think that you could build a spa and still encourage people to be really free in all kinds of ways but not have it go off the rails, I thought that was always the magic of the place. It was always super fun but also really beautiful.
Building Grotto Miami
With Cohere, my latest project where I'm also a partner is Grotto Baths in Wynwood. We didn't set out to build a spa, but a bathhouse more akin to the thermal baths of Ancient Rome. What excites me about this project is that we're bringing back something that's been lost in modern wellness culture. Most spas today are about isolating yourself, staying quiet, optimizing your individual experience. But historically, bathing was social—it was where communities actually connected.
We're putting our own spin on this concept through the design. We're pulling references from everywhere—obscure 70's magazines inform our graphics, Brazilian Bossa Nova album covers inspired our color palette, and modernist architects like Carlo Scarpa are a huge influence on the interiors. We want people to walk in and notice this is not just another wellness space, but a place with its own distinct point of view.
Shaping What's Next at Cohere
At Cohere, I bring all of that experience to hotel and wellness projects as Senior Advisor. My network—this mycelium spanning cities and continents—helps me find the right person to do something for a project I'm working on. What's great about that is being able to share this knowledge with the next generation of operators and programming directors—giving them the foundation while they push things forward in their own way.
