How Much Harm Could She Really Do?
Henry Maksoud Neto, PrincipalWhen I became the principal of my family's company in 2014, one of our most important subsidiaries was the Hotel Maksoud Plaza. It opened in 1979 and once hosted a concert by Frank Sinatra. For three generations of São Paulo, the name meant something. By 2014, it meant almost nothing. A younger generation had grown up without ever having heard of it.
The numbers told the same story as the city's memory. Occupancy was at 45 percent. Years without real investment, combined with the post 9/11 shock to global travel, had taken a hotel that once defined the city's nightlife and turned it into an afterthought.
It was worse than a decline. In 2011, the hotel had been sent to auction to pay off debts of the holding company, and a bitter family dispute was still unfolding. Every week, it felt like the company's name showed up in the press for all the wrong reasons. The background I inherited was, in a word, catastrophic.
Losing was not an option, but there was no money for a communication strategy: no budget for an agency, no room for a campaign. So I decided to hire one person: an internal communications strategist who would have to accomplish through judgment and energy what we couldn't do with money.
I interviewed every candidate for every position myself in those years, and this hire was no different. One Saturday morning, I sat down with the shortlist. One candidate was a young woman who arrived with an ambitious strategic plan for the entire communication function. She was so full of enthusiasm that I remember thinking, almost as a joke to myself: With that much enthusiasm, how much harm could she really do?
I hired her.
What she had, and what the hotel needed, wasn't a bigger budget. It was a story worth telling and someone determined enough to tell it everywhere, to everyone, without waiting for permission or funding to catch up. The Sinatra concert, the decades of history, the memory that three generations of the city still carried somewhere, even if they'd stopped talking about it; that was the asset. It didn't cost anything; it just needed someone to pick it back up.
Within a relatively short time, the Maksoud Plaza was trending again, becoming one of the most talked about hotels in the city.
Not because we outspent anyone, but because we out told them.
I think about that hire often when owners tell me they can't fix their company's reputation because they don't have the budget for it. Budget is one kind of resource; conviction is another. In a crisis, the second one is usually far more available than owners think, and it's the one they underuse. A communication strategy built on scarce resources doesn't need to be small in ambition. It needs to be precise about what it actually has to work with: a real story, a person who believes in it, and the discipline to keep telling it past the point where it feels repetitive.
The candidate who showed up with too much enthusiasm for the room turned out to be exactly what the room needed.
What she did with that room is the rest of this story. I'll let her tell it.
The Majestic Maksoud
Karina Brandford, Communications ManagerWhen I accepted the opportunity to lead communications at the Maksoud Plaza Hotel, I truly had no idea what lay ahead of me. The context Henry shared gives a sense of it, but I could never have imagined how much would need to change for communications to become truly structured, both internally and externally.
Accepting the offer wasn't a difficult decision. Tourism was already part of my professional journey, and I had a personal connection to the Maksoud that went back to my childhood: my father used to meet with fellow Panamanians at the hotel. And then there was the challenge itself. After all, this was the majestic Maksoud.
I joined in February 2017 with a clear mandate: not simply to generate more communication, but to redefine the role communications played in the business. There was no integrated Communications structure connecting reputation, brand, employees, guest experience, and commercial opportunities. Building that function, bringing those pieces together, and helping make the Maksoud relevant again became the transformation I set out to lead.
To do that, I first needed to understand the business from the inside. I got to know every department, the key people, and the operation itself. That gave me a completely different view of our communications potential. The Maksoud already possessed extraordinary assets: its history, architecture, people, spaces, and experiences. The opportunity was to turn those assets into a new narrative.
Turning Assets Into a Story
One of the first breakthroughs came when I discovered that spaces such as the helipad, the Dreams Suite (designed by Felipe Morozini), and the large master suites could be leveraged for film and photo shoots. I reached out to an influencer friend, and by March, we organized a gathering with São Paulo Instagrammers focused on tourism and culture. We guided them through the Atrium, guest rooms, award winning suites, and rooftop, ending at the acclaimed Frank Bar. The result was dozens of posts, stories, and articles showcasing this iconic hotel once again.
Interest in the Maksoud started to grow rapidly.
That early response reinforced something vital: our challenge wasn't a lack of stories. We needed a structure capable of identifying them, telling them consistently, and reconnecting the brand with its audience. So, we moved from isolated initiatives to an ongoing, integrated strategy.
From Isolated Posts to a Structure
We professionalized the social media presence of both the hotel and Frank Bar, strengthened media relations, invested in high quality content, photography, and video, and completely redesigned the hotel's website to better reflect its rich history and experience. As the role of communications expanded, so did the team. Eventually, four of us were dedicated entirely to Communications.
Rebuilding our reputation also meant being prepared to protect it. Within my first few months, I had to manage two major crises that put the hotel in the headlines of Brazil's leading national media outlets and threatened our image once again. Crisis management became an integral pillar of our broader reputation strategy rather than a separate, reactive task.
What Happened Inside Had to Be Felt Inside
However, rebuilding the Maksoud externally would mean little if the transformation wasn't felt internally.
That made employee communication and culture another core focus. Working closely with Human Resources, we established consistent internal communications, town hall meetings, feedback channels, and greater transparency across the hotel. Our Corporate TV became one of the most visible expressions of that shift. It wasn't simply a channel for announcements; it highlighted team achievements, birthdays, Employee of the Month awards, heritage stories, and even the daily cafeteria menu. Staff began to see themselves reflected in the brand.
Special dates and internal initiatives followed the same principle: creating connection and making employees feel like part of the Maksoud family. On several occasions, we even gave staff access to exclusive areas of the hotel that they wouldn't normally experience during their daily routines.
From Storytelling to Strategy
Another major shift was connecting communications directly to commercial strategy. We began working alongside the sales and revenue teams, viewing corporate and social events not just as venue bookings, but as opportunities to strengthen the brand, build strategic partnerships, and attract new demographics. Collaborations with established event leaders helped reopen the Maksoud's doors to private parties, debutante balls, and weddings.
We also cultivated partnerships with artists and influencers, expanding the hotel's footprint as a premier location for TV series, feature films, and advertising campaigns.
Communications was no longer just reporting on what happened at the Maksoud, it was actively generating reasons for people to experience it.
Frank Bar was one of the clearest examples of this approach. Led by renowned bartender Spencer Amereno, the bar was about much more than craft cocktails. There were rich stories behind every ingredient, drink, and team member running an operation that twice ranked among the world's 100 best bars.
Our role was to turn that operational excellence into prestige and demand. The annual launch of each cocktail menu became a major city event. Journalists and influencers vied for the guest list, reservations ran long waiting lists, and every article or video built aspirational value around the brand. We also forged partnerships with major international beverage brands, executing activations that combined Frank Bar's identity with global brand equity to drive engagement.
We applied this same framework across other areas of the business. Making tickets for the hotel's Christmas and New Year's Eve galas available through digital platforms significantly expanded our reach and dismantled an enduring misconception: many locals genuinely believed they weren't allowed to walk into the Maksoud for a casual meal, let alone celebrate New Year's Eve there. I still vividly recall the video of the iconic panoramic elevators moving in sync during the countdown to 2020, it was a standout moment of that era.
A Full House in the Slowest Month
By January 2020, the hotel reached 100% occupancy.
We had progressed from the 45% occupancy Henry inherited to a completely full house, in São Paulo, in January, traditionally the slowest month of the year. I will never forget that milestone. Yet, that victory belonged to the entire organization, not just Communications.
Every updated menu, every housekeeping touch, every warm welcome from our doormen, and the continuous effort of our cleaning, security, maintenance, kitchen, laundry, reservations, administrative, finance, and parking teams brought the Maksoud back to life.
Whether front facing or behind the scenes, every employee helped rebuild that story. You could feel the cultural shift in the atmosphere, people were smiling again.
During my three plus years there, my responsibilities expanded into addressing guest reviews, resolving complaints, and navigating new crises. Each situation reinforced a core lesson: communications cannot operate in a silo. To rebuild a reputation, you must understand operations, connect people, and work side by side with the teams delivering the customer experience.
I consider my proudest achievement at the Maksoud to be coordinating the commemorative book celebrating the hotel's 40th anniversary. My team spent weeks diving into the hotel archives, a massive room packed with ledgers, photographs, documents, and cassette tapes, reconstructing the Maksoud's complete timeline. We uncovered extraordinary, forgotten memories.
The book was written by a talented ghostwriter and visually brought to life by our design agency, which also transformed both the hotel's and Frank Bar's visual identities. My team's role was to synthesize those pieces. In many ways, that project reflected our overall mission: rediscovering what made the Maksoud unique, bridging its past with its present, and inspiring people to care about its story again.
I said goodbye to the hotel at the start of the COVID 19 pandemic as Communications Manager, having fulfilled many dreams along the way. I still hold on to one final hope: that more people will eventually get to discover this book and experience the history of this hospitality giant.
Who knows? Perhaps one day it will finally be published for the public.
A conversation
If you are in that seat now
Maybe you saw yourself in this. Or someone you know.
I sat in the owner's chair for twelve years, and nobody sat next to me. Now I sit next to owners who carry the last decision.
It starts with one conversation. You tell me where you are. I tell you honestly if I can help. If I cannot, I will tell you that too.
It stays between us.