Critically Reflecting on the Creative City

Based on Segovia and Herve (2022) and Professor Richard Williams’ lectures, Kyoto offers a great example to explore how “openness” in creative cities works as a method ratherthan a fixed model, along with its “tangled, oscillating, and slightly vague” nature.

Kyoto, as Japan’s ancient capital, shows its “openness” in the way it blends traditional culture with modern innovation. A good example is the Kyoto International Manga Museum, which was converted from an old elementary school. While preserving its historical exterior, the museum incorporates modern tech to showcase manga art. This adaptive reuse highlights the core of openness—it’s about being flexible and dynamic, not sticking to rigid structures. However, this openness isn’t without challenges. As the lectures noted, openness often faces the risk of commercialization. In Kyoto’s case, while the manga museum attracts lots of tourists, its commercial nature has left some locals feeling disconnected from the space, as if traditional culture is being “packaged” for consumption.

Another example is Gion, where traditional buildings are being repurposed into creative workshops or artisan spaces. While these efforts bring new life to the area and engage younger generations, they also raise concerns about diluting the authenticity of the community. Kyoto’s experience shows that “openness” isn’t a one-size-fits-all solution—it’s something thatrequires constant adjustment and sensitivity to local needs.

Urban Practices

Kyoto is an excellent case for examining the “loose ends” of urban practices, especially in the tension between cultural preservation and economic growth. Gion, one of Kyoto’s most iconic cultural areas, is a prime example. While its historic buildings and cultural activities, like geisha performances, attract plenty of tourists, the surge in short-term rentals and commercial spaces is eroding the fabric of the local community. This reflects what Massey described as “a story so far”—a place where history and modern economic forces intertwine in complex ways.

In 2024, I took a photo of a small alley in the Higashiyama district, part of Gion, which used to be a vibrant residential area. Now, it’s dominated by short-term rentals and cafes. While this shift caters to tourists, it has displaced residents and weakened the social cohesion of the community. Moreover, though these changes bring short-term economic benefits, they risk long-term damage to cultural heritage. For example, some traditional artisan shops in Gion have closed, unable to compete with the pressures of modernization.

These observations highlight how “making room” isn’t just about physical space—it’s  tied to social and cultural dynamics as well. As the course discussed, the “loose ends” in creative cities often reveal complex tensions that need to be addressed through more inclusive, thoughtful policies. Kyoto’s case pushes us to think about how to strike a better balance between preserving cultural identity and supporting economic development.

Urban Studio 1 On-SiteWork

One of the most inspiring aspects of our on-site group work was how we combined  observation and collaboration to creatively link the building’s historical memory with its modern use. This process not only deepened my understanding of the course theme—“the evolution of space and memory”—but also gave me a fresh appreciation for how team dynamics can spark creativity.

We focused on the transformation of the Old Royal Infirmary into the Edinburgh Futures Institute and developed a narrative centered on a trolley symbolizing the passage of time. This trolley slowly moves through the building, connecting its past and present. The idea initially came up as a casual suggestion from one team member, but as we observed the site, we realized its potential. The movement of the trolley not only  illustrates the flow of time but also ties together the transitions in the building’s  functions. For example, it moves through what used to be hospital wards and enters modern study spaces, visually emphasizing the “multi-dimensionality of space and its ability to hold memories,” as discussed in the course.

Team collaboration played a key role here. Each member brought their perspective to enhance the narrative. One person suggested projecting archival photos onto the trolley’s journey to visually merge past and present, while another proposed using slow moving shots to highlight the building’s historical atmosphere. Through collective effort, we successfully wove these ideas into an emotionally rich and cohesive narrative.

This experience showed me that inspiration often arises from dynamic teamwork and being physically present in the space. It helped me better understand how buildings can act as vessels of memory and encouraged me to value collaboration and on-site exploration in future urban creative projects.

Urban Studio 2 Archives and Resource

Our exploration of archival materials opened a new perspective on how history can be brought to life through careful storytelling. The archives related to the Old Royal Infirmary and Edinburgh Futures Institute were rich and diverse—historical photos, blueprints, patient notes—all brimming with untold stories. What surprised me was how these fragments, when woven together, could not only narrate the building’s transformation but also reveal its enduring essence as a space for healing and learning.

One key moment in our process was uncovering a 1950s photograph of an operating room. Placing it alongside a contemporary image of EFI’s classroom revealed striking similarities in structure and purpose. This juxtaposition wasn’t planned—it emerged organically during our research, showing how past and present overlap in unexpected ways.

However, this work wasn’t just about discovery—it was also about making hard decisions. With so much material, we had to define clear boundaries. Should we focus on personal human stories, like the lives of patients and doctors? Or should we highlight the building’s architectural transformation? Our group decided to do both but in a way that felt cohesive. We organized our narrative into two threads: one focusing on memory fragments and personal connections, and the other exploring physical and functional changes over time.

What inspired me most was how archives can become creative tools for reinterpreting the past. They aren’t static documents locked in history—they’re flexible, capable of revealing new meanings when placed in a fresh context.

This realization has changed how I think about storytelling in urban spaces, showing me that historical research can be just as innovative and dynamic as any creative practice.

Reflections on Creativity and Space

Looking back on the visual and written reflections I shared in my introduction post, the course materials have given me a much deeper understanding of the complexities of “space and memory” in creative cities. They’ve also made me rethink some assumptions and raised new challenges.

In my introduction, I used a photo of Kyoto’s Gion district to talk about how traditional buildings and modern commercial activities coexist. Initially, I saw this as a balance— where the mix of machiya townhouses and creative industries preserved cultural  heritage while attracting younger audiences and tourists. But after reading Segovia and Herve’s (2022) work on the “openness” of creative cities, I realized this balance isn’t static—it’s constantly shifting and, at times, even contradictory. Gion’s commercialization has made it a cultural hotspot, but it’s also weakened the sense of belonging for some local residents. McLean (2014) highlights how creative city developments often prioritize tourist needs over local communities, which made me reconsider how sustainableGion’s current approach really is.

For example, many traditional machiya have been turned into short-term rentals. While this offers tourists a unique experience, it’s driving residents out of their neighborhoods. This made me ask: Who actually benefits from these creative city transformations?  And is there a more sustainable way for Gion to preserve cultural authenticity while  catering to tourists? The course materials have deepened my understanding of these questions but also left me with the challenge of figuring out how to ensure both community rights and cultural preservation in creative cities.