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.