Routledge Companion to Creativity and the Built Environment 1032274468, 9781032274461

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Routledge Companion to Creativity and the Built Environment

This book critically examines the reciprocal relationship between creativity and the built environment and features leading voices from across the world in a debate on originating, learning, modifying, and plagiarizing creativities within the built environment. The Companion includes contributions from across the disciplines of architecture, design, planning, construction, real estate, economics, urban studies, geography, sociology, and public policies. Contributors review the current field and propose new conceptual frameworks, research methodologies, and directions for research, policy, and practice. Chapters are organized into five sections, each drawing on cross-disciplinary insights and debates:

• Section I connects creativity, productivity, and economic growth and examines how our built environment stimulates or intimidates human imaginations.

• Section II addresses how hard environments are fabricated with social, cultural, and institutional meanings, and how these evolve in different times and settings.

• Section III discusses activities that directly and indirectly shape the material development of a built environment, its environmental sustainability, space utility, and place identity.

• Section IV illustrates how technologies and innovations are used in building and strengthening an intelligent, real-time, responsive urban agenda.

• Section V examines governance opportunities and challenges at the interface between creativity and built environment.

An important resource for scholars and students in the fields of urban planning and development, urban studies, environmental sustainability, human geography, sociology, and public policy. Julie T. Miao is an Associate Professor in the Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning, University of Melbourne; a visiting scholar at Harvard University; and an Australian Research Council Discovery Early Career Research Fellow. Her main research interests lie in innovationspace, urban entrepreneurism, and intrapreneurial state. Tan Yigitcanlar is an eminent Australian researcher and author with international recognition and impact in the field of smart and sustainable city development. He is a Professor of Urban Studies and Planning at the School of Architecture and Built Environment, Queensland University of Technology, Brisbane, Australia.

“This rich and diverse collection connects the idea of the creative city with a much broader research base, and offers a really valuable base for rethinking the role of creativity in the urban environment. The editors have assembled a book that stimulates thoughts on new connections and combinations and challenges the way we look at the city. It should be a required reading for all students of the urban environment.” David Charles, Northumbria University, UK “Creativity is not just the product of gifted individuals and it does not exist ‘in the air.’ It is a social process which is embedded in our urban landscapes and built environment. This volume brings together a wide range of contributors to help us better understand this critical nexus.” Richard Florida, author of The Rise of the Creative Class “Miao and Yigitcanlar offer a truly interdisciplinary resource on the multifaceted intersections between human creativity and the urban context. The authors dig into an impressive range of issues and open critical lines of inquiry that deepen our knowledge of this important research area. Ambitious in scope and scale, The Routledge Companion of Creativity and the Built Environment will be a go-to reference on urban creativity for years to come.” Carl Grodach, Foundation Professor of Urban Planning and Design, Monash University, Australia

Routledge Companion to Creativity and the Built Environment

Edited by Julie T. Miao and Tan Yigitcanlar

Designed cover image: gettyimages.ca/Ihor_Tailwind First published 2024 by Routledge 4 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2024 selection and editorial matter, Julie T. Miao and Tan Yigitcanlar; individual chapters, the contributors The right of Julie T. Miao and Tan Yigitcanlar to be identified as the authors of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Miao, Julie Tian, editor. | Miao, Julie Tian, editor. Title: Routledge companion to creativity and the built environment / edited by Julie T. Miao and Tan Yigitcanlar. Description: First Edition. | New York, NY : Routledge, [2023] | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2023034221 (print) | LCCN 2023034222 (ebook) | ISBN 9781032274461 (hardback) | ISBN 9781032274485 (paperback) | ISBN 9781003292821 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Creative ability--Social aspects. | City planning--Environmental aspects. | Urban renewal. | Urban policy. Classification: LCC BF408 .R722 2023 (print) | LCC BF408 (ebook) | DDC 153.3/5--dc23/eng/20231115 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2023034221 LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2023034222 ISBN: 978-1-032-27446-1 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-032-27448-5 (pbk) ISBN: 978-1-003-29282-1 (ebk) DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821 Typeset in Times New Roman by KnowledgeWorks Global Ltd.

This book is dedicated to the following beloved, beautiful, and brilliant people that have shaped our lives: Yulia, Nick, Aili, Haijun and Wang Cahide, Susan, Ela, and Selin

Contents

List of figures List of tables List of contributors Foreword: Creativity and the built environment by Charles Laundry 1 A reflection on the interface between creativity and the built environment

xii xvi xviii xxvi 1

JULIE T. MIAO AND TAN YIGITCANLAR

SECTION I

Economy and productivity

17

2 Built cultural heritage and local development: The mediating effect of multi-dimensional creativity

19

SILVIA CERISOLA

3 Impact of the built environment on the spatial heterogeneity of regional innovation productivity: Evidence from the Pearl River Delta, China

32

WU KANGMIN, WANG YANG, ZHANG HONG’OU, LIU YI, AND YE YUYAO

4 Housing, productivity and creativity

48

ZHIYUAN LI

5 Community and business innovation in the Indonesian kampung cases from Semarang

62

NICHOLAS A. PHELPS AND HOLI B. WIJAYA

6 The infrastructures of innovation districts: Happy coincidence or creative collective curation?

73

JULIE T. MIAO

7 Workplace repositioning post-pandemic: Hybrid working EILEEN SIM

84

viii  Contents 8 Creativity in sustainable finance: Growth of green instruments

93

KRUTI UPADHYAY AND RAGHU DHARMAPURI TIRUMALA

9 Creativity in blue economy financing

107

RAGHU DHARMAPURI TIRUMALA AND KRUTI UPADHYAY

SECTION II

Society and culture

121

10 Creativity and the city: New forms of work and life

123

DAN EUGEN RATIU

11 Between performativity and spectacle: Provocations of street-based public art festivals

134

RISHIKA MUKHOPADHYAY

12 The role of community arts organisations in heritage-led regeneration and placemaking: The case of LAMO and Old Town, Leh

145

MICHAEL BUSER AND MONISHA AHMED

13 Learning by failing better: Coproducing creativity in the informal city of Los Arenales, Chile

155

MARTIN ARIAS-LOYOLA AND FRANCISCO VERGARA-PERUCICH

14 The circuit of memory, creativity, and built environment in the making in Gwangju, South Korea

169

HAERAN SHIN

15 Artists, arts and culture-based city revitalization, and the built environment

180

MEGHAN ASHLIN RICH

16 Culture-led regeneration and urban governance: The case of South Rome

190

ANNA LAURA PALAZZO AND ROMINA D’ASCANIO

17 The art of dancing for urban design: An examination of a creative built environment in Helsinki, Finland

205

TOMMI INKINEN

SECTION III

Environment and space

219

18 End of the Holocene City: The limits of urban imagination

221

FRANCISCO JAVIER CARRILLO

Contents  ix 19 Industry 4.0, lean production and sustainability: A bibliometric and literature review

234

CRISTINA CILIBERTO, RAFFAELLA TADDEO, KATARZYNA SZOPIK-DEPCZYŃSKA, TAN YIGITCANLAR, AND GIUSEPPE IOPPOLO

20 Collingwood Yards: The formation of a creative precinct

259

ESTHER ANATOLITIS AND HÉLÈNE FRICHOT

21 Driving innovation and equity in the 21st-century Australian city

269

ROB MCGAURAN

22 Flagship architecture and city branding

283

AMPARO TARAZONA VENTO

23 The corporate campus

293

D.J. HUPPATZ

24 Urban design dimensions of creative clustering: Mix/adaptation/ networks/ambivalence

302

STEPHEN WOOD, KIM DOVEY, AND LUCINDA PIKE

25 The dark side of creativity: A design perspective on the built environment’s chequered histories

314

MARCUS FOTH, SKYE DOHERTY, AND NICK KELLY

SECTION IV

Technology and innovation

327

26 The application of big data and technology in urban transport management

329

MARK STEVENSON AND AVITA STREATFIELD

27 Customer uptake and preference analysis for mobility as a service (MaaS) schemes

338

XIAOYANG YU, PRITHVI BHAT BEERAMOOLE, CHAITRALI SHIRKE, AND ALEXANDER PAZ

28 Who speaks for smart cities?: Social media, influence, and stories of innovation

353

MARK WILSON, TRAVIS DECAMINADA, CORNELIUS DARCY, AND EVA KASSENS-NOOR

29 The new socio-spatial dimensions of creativity: Theorising creative hybrid-places in the digital age DANIEL DE O. VASCONCELOS

365

x  Contents 30 Augmented and virtual reality and creativity in the built environment

376

JENNIFER WHYTE AND DRAGANA NIKOLIĆ

31 Virtual reality and desiring-production

386

PETER RAISBECK AND MICHAELA PRUNOTTO

32 Lean construction in China: A review

398

YANQING FANG AND SHANG GAO

33 Co-designing infrastructures: Working with communities to create resilient cities

411

SARAH BELL, CHARLOTTE JOHNSON, TSE-HUI TEH, KAT AUSTEN, AND GEMMA MOORE

34 Creativity and innovation: Revitalisation experiences as strategies to foster areas of innovation in Brazil

423

ANA CRISTINA FACHINELLI, SUÉLEN BEBBER, BIANCA LIBARDI, AND THAIS ZIMMERMANN SUZIN

35 Smart city in the creativity-built environment nexus: A case study of Bandung

435

JULIE T. MIAO, ADIWAN FAHLAN ARITENANG, AND NADIA GISSMA

36 Melbourne’s skyscrapers: A case study in creative destruction

448

GIORGIO MARFELLA

SECTION V

Governance and planning

461

37 The multifunction polis: An urban idea and its end

463

PAUL WALKER

38 The creative city in Australia: Where are we now?

473

EMMA FELTON

39 Suburbs by design: Design and its antithesis in the Australian suburb

481

ALAN PERT AND NICHOLAS A. PHELPS

40 Innovation districts and the physical environment of knowledge-based economic development

491

JOSHUA DRUCKER

41 Tech-development, public space, and planning failures CARLA MARIA KAYANAN

504

Contents  xi 42 The planning of creative Paris

516

JACOB THOMAS SIMPSON

43 University incubators as sites of creativity and innovation: The case of the Macquarie University Incubator

530

SHA LIU AND KRISTIAN RUMING

44 Planning and sustaining an inclusive urban infrastructure of cultural amenities: Lessons from Amsterdam

543

ROBERT C. KLOOSTERMAN AND JOCHEM DE VRIES

45 Global cities in the making

554

CAITLIN MORRISSEY AND MICHELE ACUTO

Afterword: From creative cluster to innovation complex: Aspirational infrastructure for anxious cities

563

SHARON ZUKIN

Index

566

Figures

2.1 Listed buildings per square km in England and in London 2.2 From built cultural heritage to development through multi-dimensional creativity (a) England; (b) Italy 3.1 Research design 3.2 Framework of the innovation-based built environment 3.3 The Pearl River Delta 3.4 The spatial distribution of patents in the Pearl River Delta 3.5 The spatial heterogeneity of regional innovation productivity in the Pearl River Delta 3.6 (a–d) Map of seven factors in relation to regional innovation productivity in the Pearl River Delta 3.7 Power of impact factors guiding the spatial heterogeneity of innovation productivity 4.1 The location of Z-SP and sub-parks 4.2 The location of the study area 5.1 Map of Semarang and location of Kampung Bugangan and Kampung Siroto 5.2 Typical scene in Bugangan metal and plastic industry cluster 5.3 Snack food production in kampung Siroto 6.1 Historical Seaport 6.2 Fort Point heritage buildings 6.3 Seaport District Hall 7.1 Four generations of office workplace 8.1 Global climate finance growth (USD billion) 8.2 Green bond issuance in USD billion 8.3 Sector wise climate finance allocation for 2019–2020 8.4 Total committed capital through blended finance in USD billion 9.1 Different categories of blue finance institutions 9.2 Seychelles Blue bonds 11.1 Fresh coat of paint on a neighbourhood building 11.2 The promotional poster saying ‘Malat dea Kumartuli’ (Kumartuli under a colourful cloak) 11.3 Patchwork of motifs: The image of the deity 11.4 A girl taking selfie: Contemporary art in the potters’ quarter 11.5 Walls speak the language 11.6 Installation inside an iron utensil shop

24 25 35 36 38 38 40 42 43 52 53 65 66 67 77 79 80 87 95 97 99 100 109 116 137 137 138 138 139 139

Figures  xiii 11.7 11.8 12.1 12.2 12.3 13.1 13.2 13.3 13.4 14.1 14.2 14.3 16.1 16.2 16.3 16.4 16.5 16.6 16.7 16.8 16.9 17.1 17.2 17.3 19.1 19.2 19.3 19.4 19.5 19.6 19.7 19.8 20.1 20.2 20.3 21.1 21.2 21.3 21.4 24.1 24.2

Interwoven playfulness: Art and everyday bamboo craft sculpture Use of nondescript doors, window frames, and walls Tsemo hill, the Old Town, and Leh Palace The LAMO centre before and after restoration Community mapping project organised and led by LAMO Map Chile indicating the location of the city of Antofagasta and the location of Los Arenales within this city Macrocampamento Los Arenales Production of bread by female cooperativists in the cooperative bakery CINTRA Los Arenales Service-learning activity finished May 18 specific locations developed as exhibition places in the fourth Gwangju Biennale Asia culture centre Four creative belts with media art works Territorial overview. Location of the Municipi involved in the ‘Progetto urbano’ Transformations foreseen by the Progetto urbano Ostiense-Marconi How the Ostiense district looked like in the early 90s How the Ostiense district was expected to become The Gasometer along the Tiber River left bank Via Ostiense. Department of Law, designed by Alfredo Passeri and Giuseppe Pasquali, 2000 Via Ostiense. New rectorate, designed by Mario Cucinella, 2021 Valco San Paolo. Student house, designed by Lorenzo Dall’Olio, 2021 Share of creative sub-sectors in the area between Rome and the sea A classification framework for assessing creative location in a city Dance house exteriors, close proximity plaza, and building entrance Dance house lobby, entrance to performance hall and cafeteria Research methodology Trend of publications Journals’ concentration Geographic concentration Types of studies reviewed Keywords’ trend Keywords match The conceptual framework of the integration among Industry 4.0, lean production, and sustainability Opening Night at Collingwood Yards Collingwood Yards Image of activity at Collingwood Yards 22@Barcelona The Monash governance model Monash precinct principles The Monash Clayton Campus – from and to Study areas in Melbourne, Sydney, and Brisbane Functional mix

140 141 148 149 151 159 160 162 164 173 173 175 191 192 195 195 196 197 198 198 199 208 209 210 246 248 249 249 250 250 251 253 260 266 267 272 277 280 281 304 306

xiv  Figures 24.3 Interface adaptations 24.4 Mapping walkable networks 25.1 Brisbane’s Howard Smith Wharves post-development showing deliberate design of curves to slow cyclists 25.2 Brisbane communities protesting excessive noise pollution from Brisbane Airport’s flight paths 25.3 Low intensity fire on private land in the D’Aguilar range 29.1 The features of unbundled creativity 29.2 A representation of creative hybrid-places 32.1 Evolution map of LC in China 32.2 LC research prospect tree 33.1 Bottom-up infrastructure co-design method 33.2 Garage rooftop on Kipling Estate 33.3 Results from the value elicitation 33.4 Model of garden scenario 33.5 Mapping the rooftop 34.1 Degraded building in the historic centre of Recife 34.2 Recife urban revitalisation in Porto Digital Technological Park 34.3 School Museum Catarinense refurbished to house the coworking of the Creative District 34.4 Revitalisation works in the historic centre of Florianópolis 34.5 Vila Flores architectural complex in the fourth district of Porto Alegre 34.6 Caldeira Institute in the fourth district of Porto Alegre 35.1 Locations of coworking spaces in Bandung 35.2 Client and customer networks of coworking spaces 35.3 Important contacts of coworking spaces 36.1 ICI House, Bates, Smart & McCutcheon, 1955–58 36.2 From left to right: BHP House, Yuncken Freeman, 1968–72; Collins Place, I.M. Pei and Partners with Bates Smart & McCutcheon, 1971–81; Rialto Towers, G. De Preu with Perrott Lyon Mathieson, 1984–86 36.3 Australia 108, Fender Katsalidis Architects, 2015–2021 36.4 Melbourne CBD; 1955–1995 36.5 Melbourne, tall buildings 1955–2020 36.6 Joseph Schumpeter’s process of creative destruction 37.1 Lionel Glendenning of Edwards Madigan Torzillo & Briggs, Multifunction Polis drawing 39.1 Vermont Park cluster development 39.2 Greenways and signage in Caroline Springs 40.1 Innovation districts in the United States 40.2 Views of Cortex Innovation Community, St. Louis, Missouri 41.1 Tech firms in the SDZ before 2002 41.2 Tech firms in the SDZ 2021 41.3 Building use in the Dublin Docklands, 2021 41.4 Demographics SDZ and Dublin city

309 310 318 320 321 369 371 401 406 414 416 418 419 420 427 428 429 430 432 432 441 444 445 452

453 455 457 457 458 469 484 488 492 498 508 509 509 511

Figures  xv 42.1 42.2 42.3 42.4

New headquarters of Adobe France. Rue Laureston, Paris 16th Samsung France R&D in Le Centorial Samsung France R&D in Le Centorial The white metal and red brick façades on the left host the headquarters of Facebook France at 6 rue Ménars, Paris 2nd 44.1 A typology of cultural amenities

521 523 523 525 544

Tables



3.1 3.2 3.3 4.1 4.2 4.3

4.4 4.5

4.6 4.7 4.8 4.9



7.1 8.1 8.2 9.1

9.2 9.3 9.4 9.5 17.1 19.1 19.2 27.1 27.2 27.3 27.4 28.1 28.2 28.3

Summary of variables Results of positive standard deviation values tail values examination Estimation results of negative binomial regression Questionnaire design Descriptive statistics of dependent and independent variables Statistics of dependent variables in different dwelling types and MannWhitney U test results Statistics of dependent variables in different over-crowding status and MannWhitney U test results Statistics of dependent variables in different commuting time and MannWhitney U test results Mann-Whitney U test results of working time between different commuting time Mann-Whitney U test results of efficiency between different commuting time Mann-Whitney U test results of innovation between different commuting time Statistics of dependent variables in different housing affordability and MannWhitney U test results Comparison of third-generation workplaces Different labelled bonds in Q1 of 2022 Sector-wise use of bond proceeds Blue economy strategies and principles of multilateral and bilateral development financial institutions Blue economy strategies and principles of investment banks and AMCs Blue economy strategies and principles of funds, NGOs, and accelerators Illustrative multilateral agencies’ initiatives Blue bonds Summary of the dance house characteristics according to spatial dimensions and scale Literature analysis Overview of Industry 4.0 emerging technologies Socio-economic characteristics of the sample Example of a MaaS choice question Estimates of model parameters to analyse MaaS preferences Willingness to pay for important MaaS attributes Twitter users with more than 5,000 tweets on #smartcity Most mentioned entities in tweets containing #smartcities Influencers with the most followers that reference #smartcities

37 41 41 53 54 55 55 56 56 56 57 57 85 98 98 110 111 112 114 114 213 235 240 345 346 348 350 358 360 361

Tables  xvii 30.1 Focus, approach, findings, and directions for further research in selected recent reviews of AR and VR and its implementation in construction and the built environment 30.2 Focus, approach, findings, and directions for further research in selected recent experimental studies of AR and VR and its implementation in creativity and design 32.1 Research areas of LC in China 32.2 The influence factors of LC in Mainland China 32.3 Mainland China’s LC effect evaluation 35.1 Dimensions of coworkingscape 35.2 Coworking spaces in Bandung 35.3 Details of coworking space in Bandung 40.1 Examples of innovation districts and features 40.2 Examples of former innovation districts and features 44.1 Direct and indirect interventions 45.1 Approaches to creativity and the built environment nexus in global cities

378 380 403 404 404 437 439 443 494 495 546 559

Contributors

Michele Acuto is the Director of the Melbourne Centre for Cities at the University of ­Melbourne, where he is also a Professor of Urban Politics and Associate Dean (Research) in the Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning. He is also a Fellow of the Chicago Council on Global Affairs and a member of the City of Melbourne Night time Economy Committee. His research lies at the intersection of international relations and urban governance. Monisha Ahmed is the Co-Founder and Executive Director of Ladakh Arts and Media Organisation, Leh. She is an independent researcher, writer, and curator whose work focuses on art practices and material culture in Ladakh, as well as other areas of the Himalayan world. Esther Anatolitis is the Editor of Australian literary journal Meanjin, honourable Associate Professor at RMIT School of Art, and a Director of the National Gallery of Australia. She has authored hundreds of articles and book chapters spanning art, architecture, and political commentary. Esther’s book Place, Practice, Politics was published in 2022. Martín Arias-Loyola is the Director of the Magíster en Gerencia Pública y Desarrollo Regional, Associate Researcher of the IDEAR and ORDHUM and assistant professor at the Universidad Católica del Norte. He is the Principal Investigator of the FONDECYT N11228200 and his research interests lie in power asymmetries, extractivisms, and informality. Adiwan F. Aritenang is an Associate Professor in the Urban and Regional Program and a researcher at Smart City and Community Innovation Center, Institut Teknologi Bandung. His main research interests are in urban and regional economics, creative and smart cities, and urban analytics. Kat Austen’s artistic practice is underpinned by extensive research and motivated by questions of how to move towards a more socially and environmentally just future. She creates sculptural and new media installations, performances, and participatory work that encompasses co-design, citizen science, and participatory artistic research. Suélen Bebber is an architect; has a master’s degree and PhD in administration with a research focus on innovation and competitiveness at the University of Caxias do Sul; a researcher at CityLivingLab (www.citylivinglab.com). Her main research interests are smart cities, sustainable development, knowledge-based development, public services, and value co-creation. Prithvi Bhat Beeramoole is a PhD candidate in the School of Civil and Environmental Engineering, Queensland University of Technology. Her research focuses on the development of improved methods for extensive hypothesis testing to support estimation of discrete outcome models.

Contributors  xix Sarah Bell is the City of Melbourne Chair in Urban Resilience and Innovation at the University of Melbourne and a Visiting Professor in Environmental Engineering at University College London. She is a Fellow of Engineers Australia. Her research addresses transdisciplinary approaches to urban resilience, including community engagement with infrastructure. Michael Buser is an Associate Professor of Collaborative Community Practice in the Centre for Sustainable Planning and Environments at the University of the West of England, Bristol. His interests centre on interdisciplinary research on themes of climate change, mental health, care, and community. Francisco Javier Carrillo is an Emeritus Professor of Knowledge-Based Development at Tecnológico de Monterrey, President of the World Capital Institute, and Editor of the International Journal of Knowledge-Based Development. His last book is A Modern Guide to Knowledge: From Knowledge Societies to Knowledge in the Anthropocene, Edward Elgar (2022). Silvia Cerisola is an Assistant Professor of Regional and Urban Economics at Politecnico di Milano, Italy. Her main research topics are Regional Development, Cultural Heritage, Creativity, Regional Disparities, and Regional Competitiveness. In 2021, she was awarded ‘The William Alonso Memorial Prize for Innovative Work in Regional Science’ by the North American Regional Science Council. Cristina Ciliberto is a PhD in Economics, Management, and Statistics in the Faculty of Economics, University of Messina. She is an expert of the subject in Production Cycles Technology, Quality Management, and has a Lean Six Sigma Black Belt. Her research interests include Industry 4.0, Operations, and Supply Chain Management. Cornelius Darcy is a May 2022 graduate of Michigan State University with a PhD in planning, design, and construction. Dr Darcy’s research interests include disruptive technologies, smart cities, communications theory, and technology acceptance. Dr Darcy is the interim director of admissions and strategic communications for California Polytechnic State University, Humboldt. Romina D’Ascanio is a Postdoctoral Research Fellow at the Department of Architecture, Roma Tre University and Adjunct Professor in Urban Planning at the Faculty of Architecture, Sapienza University of Rome. Her main fields of research are urban and landscape planning, collaborative governance, and environmental policies. Jochem de Vries is an Associate Professor of Urban and Regional Planning and Chair of the Department of Human Geography, Planning and International Development Studies at the University of Amsterdam (UvA), The Netherlands. His research interests include urban planning and governance, institutional and cultural conditions of planning, and environmental planning. Travis Decaminada is a Doctoral Student at the University of Pennsylvania, Weitzman School of Design. Before starting his doctoral program, Travis attained a master’s in urban planning from Michigan State University. Travis’ research interests centre around technology, transportation, and nature, working on novel means to limit biodiversity loss on roads. Skye Doherty is a Senior Lecturer in the School of Communication and Arts and an Affiliate Research Fellow in the School of Information Technology and Electrical Engineering at The University of Queensland. Her current research focuses on designing for social change.

xx  Contributors Kim Dovey is a Professor of Architecture and Urban Design at the University of Melbourne, where he is also Director of InfUr- the Informal Urbanism Research Hub. He has published widely on social issues in architecture, urban design, and planning. Books include Framing Places (Routledge 1999/2008), Becoming Places (Routledge 2010), Urban Design Thinking (Bloomsbury 2016), and Atlas of Informal Settlement (Bloomsbury 2023). Joshua Drucker is an Associate Professor of Urban Planning and Policy at the University of Illinois Chicago, where he is a faculty advisor for the Government Finance Research Center. He researches economic development planning and policy, innovation, and technology, anchor institutions, entrepreneurship, and methods for planning and economic analysis. Ana Cristina Fachinelli is a PhD holder in Strategic Intelligence from the University of Poitiers (France) with a postdoctoral degree in Knowledge for Innovation from the University of Deusto (Spain). She is currently a professor at the University of Caxias do Sul, where she is also the founder and head of CityLivingLab (www.citylivinglab.com). Her primary research interests include knowledge-based development, knowledge for innovation, territorial intelligence, and sustainable development in cities. Emma Felton is an Adjunct Senior Researcher at the University of South Australia’s Creative People, Products and Places (CP3). She publishes widely on urban culture, people, and place. Emma is the author of the book Filtered: Coffee, Cafe and the 21st Century City and co-author and editor of Design and Ethics: Reflections on Practice. Marcus Foth is a Professor of Urban Informatics at the School of Design, Queensland University of Technology. He is a Fellow of the Australian Computer Society and the Queensland Academy of Arts and Sciences, a Distinguished Member of the Association for Computing Machinery, and a member of Australia’s College of Experts. Hélène Frichot is a Professor of Architecture and Philosophy, Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning, University of Melbourne. In her former position, she was a professor of Critical Studies and Gender Theory and Director of Critical Studies in Architecture, School of Architecture, KTH (Royal Institute of Technology) Stockholm, Sweden. Nadia Gissma is a master’s graduate from the Institute of Social Studies, Erasmus University Rotterdam, The Hague. Her main research interest is revolving around urban and regional economics, decolonization on planning, and agrarian studies. D.J. Huppatz is an Associate Professor in the School of Architecture and Design, Swinburne University of Technology, Melbourne, Australia. He is the author of Design: The Key Concepts (2020) and Modern Asian Design (2018), and his research spans design, architecture and urbanism. Tommi Inkinen is a Professor of Economic Geography at the University of Turku, Finland; a Chair of the International Geographical Union’s Innovation, Information and Technology Commission (C20.16); and a current member of the Research Council for Culture and Society of the Academy of Finland. Giuseppe Ioppolo is a Full Professor of Commodity Science at the University of Messina, Department of Economics (Italy). He was a visiting professor at Tsinghua University, Tokyo University, and CML Leiden University. His main research fields lie in Lean and Sustainable Management, Circular Economy, and Industry 5.0. Charlotte Johnson is the Head of Research Programmes at the Centre for Sustainable Energy and a Senior Research Fellow at University College London. Her research focuses

Contributors  xxi on energy transitions and inclusive innovation. She uses ethnographic, participatory, and co-design methods. Eva Kassens-Noor is the Professor and Chair of the Institute of Transport Planning and Traffic Engineering in the Civil and Environmental Engineering Department at TU Darmstadt, and is an Adjunct Professor at Michigan State University. Her interests are mobility and accessibility for, during, and despite extreme events and urban transformations. She further conducts research on the resilience of critical transport infrastructure in the pursuit of carbon-neutral. Carla Maria Kayanan is an Assistant Lecturer at Maynooth University (Ireland) with joint appointments in the Social Sciences Institute and the Department of Geography. She is a political-economic geographer studying the impacts of urban and regional development on marginalized communities. Recent work examines how data assemblages obscure Ireland’s housing crisis, the role of the state in land development, and the challenges posed by urbanrural binaries to spatial planning and urban theory. Nick Kelly is a Senior Lecturer of Interaction Design at the School of Design, Queensland University of Technology. His research is focused on situated cognition and networked learning approaches to design education. Robert C. Kloosterman is an Emeritus Professor of Economic Geography and Planning, University of Amsterdam. He has published on urban economies, migrant entrepreneurship, and cultural industries (notably architecture and music). Charles Landry is widely acclaimed as a Speaker, Author, and Innovator. He facilitates complex urban change projects. He has written over a dozen books, most recently The Civic City in a Nomadic World. His best-known work is The Creative City: A Toolkit for Urban Innovators. Zhiyuan Li is a PhD in The Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning, University of Melbourne; he got a master’s degree in Renmin University of China, majoring in Real Estate Economics and Management. Her main research interests lie in housing markets, development and management, knowledge, and innovative economics. Bianca Libardi is a civil engineer; a master’s degree student in administration, with a research focus on innovation and competitiveness, and emphasis on smart cities at the University of Caxias do Sul; researcher at CityLivingLab (www.citylivinglab.com). Her main research interests are in smart cities, sustainable mobility, and quantitative research. Sha Liu is a Postdoctoral Research Fellow in the Department of Geography and Planning, School of Social Sciences, at Macquarie University; and a member in the Urban Housing Lab@Sydney, School of Architecture, Design and Planning, at the University of Sydney. Her research focuses on financialization of housing, cross-border capital transfer in the globalized housing market, and global cities and governance. Giorgio Marfella is a Senior Lecturer in Architecture and Construction at the Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning, University of Melbourne. He is a registered architect and his research primarily investigates the architecture and construction of tall buildings, and the history and processes of technological innovation in modern building products and materials. Rob McGauran is the Founding Director of MGS Architects, a Life Fellow of the Australian Institute of Architects, a Professorial Fellow (Architecture and Urban Design), University of Melbourne, and Adjunct Professor (Architectural Practice), Monash University. He has a large body of awarded projects in Architecture, Urban Design & Planning, where his focus

xxii  Contributors has been on leveraging national strengths in education and innovation, combatting social inequity, and addressing housing disadvantage. Julie T. Miao is an Associate Professor in the Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning, University of Melbourne; a visiting scholar at Harvard University, and an Australian Research Council Discovery Early Career Research Fellow. Her main research interests lie in innovation-space, urban entrepreneurism, and intrapreneurial state. Gemma Moore is an Associate Professor (Teaching Fellow) and Senior Research Fellow at the Institute for Environmental Design and Engineering at University College London. As a Faculty Impact Lead at the Bartlett, Gemma undertakes research and teaching in the field of sustainability, participation, community engagement, health, and environmental quality. Caitlin Morrissey is a Graduate Researcher in the Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning at the University of Melbourne and in the School of Environment, Education and Development at the University of Manchester. Her research explores the making of global cities through large scale public transport infrastructure projects. Rishika Mukhopadhyay is a Lecturer in Development Geography at the School of Geography and Environmental Science, University of Southampton. Her research interests span across living heritage, craft economy, and southern urbanism. Methodologically, her work involves arts-based public engagement practice. She is currently working on urban sensory heritage. Dragana Nikolić is an Associate Professor in the Digital Built Environment at the School of the Built Environment, University of Reading, UK, and a member of the Human Data Interaction Committee of the European Centre of Computing in Construction. Her research explores how evolving digital practices transform the project delivery in the built environment. Anna Laura Palazzo is a Full Professor at the Department of Architecture, ‘Rome Tre’ University of Rome, where she coordinates the PhD program ‘Architecture City Landscape’. Visiting Professor at Ecole Normale Supérieure de Lyon, Northeastern University of Boston, and San Diego State University. Her main research interests lie in urban regeneration, heritage and landscape planning, and local development. Alexander Paz is a Professor of Civil and Environmental Engineering and the Transport and Main Roads Chair at the Queensland University of Technology. He is a Registered Professional Engineer in Queensland with a strong background in transport engineering, travel behaviour, transport planning, infrastructure management, intelligent transportation systems, and road safety. Alan Pert is a Professor of Architecture and Deputy Dean of the Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning at the University of Melbourne. Pert has established a State-wide Housing Research Lab (IBA Melbourne) and Chairs the University’s Housing Research Initiative. Pert also ran a design practice (NORD) in the United Kingdom, winning the title of RIBA Young Architects of the Year in 2006. Nicholas A. Phelps is the Chair of Urban Planning and Associate Dean International in the Faculty of Architecture Building and Planning at the University of Melbourne. He is the author of numerous journal papers and several books on suburbanization including Post-Suburban Europe, Sequel to Suburbia, and Interplaces. Michaela Prunotto studied her Master of Architecture at the University of Melbourne. She was an editor of Inflection Journal Vol. 8, which received the AIA Bates Smart Award. She

Contributors  xxiii has worked with Edition Office, Gregory Burgess, MRTN Architects, Public Realm Lab, and MSD FabLab. Peter Raisbeck teaches Architectural Practice, Design, Design Activism, and Contemporary Architectural Archives at the Melbourne School of Design. He has an interest in understanding the architectural profession’s present condition through its histories, theories, and current politics. His most recent book was Architects, Sustainability and the Climate Emergency: A Political Ecology (2022). Dan Eugen Ratiu is a Professor in the Department of Philosophy, Babes-Bolyai University in Cluj-Napoca, Romania; a member of the European Society for Aesthetics and European Sociological Association. His main research interests lie in everyday aesthetics, urban aesthetics, and the interaction between cultural policy and artistic creativity. Meghan Ashlin Rich is a Professor of Sociology and Women’s and Gender Studies at the University of Scranton. Her research focuses on neighbourhood development and gentrification in cities, with a particular interest in declining cities and arts and culture-based revitalization. Kristian Ruming is a Professor of Geography and Planning and Australian Research Council Future Fellow in the Department of Geography and Planning, School of Social Sciences at Macquarie University. His research focuses on urban governance, urban regeneration, and housing studies. Paul Scott is the Program Manager for Queensland’s Department of Transport and Main Roads MaaS and Mobility Program. The program is responsible for considering the department’s response to emerging mobility and service trends. Paul’s work with the program includes the establishment of its research activities and foundational policy streams of activities. Shang Gao is a Senior Lecturer in Construction Management at the Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning, University of Melbourne. He is also the director of Victoria Council of Lean Construction Australia and New Zealand (LCANZ). Dr Gao’s research work is located in the intersection of the disciplines of construction, construction management, and project management with a focus on Lean Construction. HaeRan Shin is a Professor in the Department of Geography at Seoul National University. Based on actor-focused approaches, she has focused on political geography and migrant studies, exploring how different actors form and develop power relations, strategies, and adaptive preferences. Chaitrali Shirke is a Traffic Engineer at the Department of Transport and Main Roads (TMR), Queensland. She is a part of the Network Optimisation team which is responsible to maintain the optimal traffic flow on the state road network using various control methods. Her expertise includes traffic modelling and road operations. Eileen Sim is a Teaching Fellow in the Property Discipline within the Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning, University of Melbourne, and a Workplace Consultant at Veldhoen + Company. Her main research interest lies in workplace innovation, future workplaces, corporate real estate, workplace strategy, and workplace change management. Jacob Thomas Simpson is Assistant Director of Rice School of Architecture Paris and Adjunct Professor at the Ecole d’urbanisme de Paris and Columbia University’s Graduate School of Architecture, Planning and Preservation. His research looks at how property market actors define and shape the qualities of the built environment.

xxiv  Contributors Mark Stevenson is a Professor of Urban Transport and Public Health and Co-Director of the Transport, Health, and Urban Design (THUD) Research Lab in the Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning and the Faculty of Engineering and Information and Technology at the University of Melbourne. Prof Stevenson is a Fellow of the Australian Academy of Health and Medical Sciences. Avita Streatfield is a Research Assistant and Coordinator for the FEEDBACK Trial at the Transport, Health, and Urban Design (THUD) Research Lab in the Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning, University of Melbourne. Her main research interests lie in placemaking and the impact of urban design on human wellbeing. Thais Zimmermann Suzin is an architect urbanist; a master’s degree student in administration, with research focus on operations and strategy, and emphasis on sustainable buildings at the University of Caxias do Sul; researcher at CityLivingLab. Her main research interests are in sustainability and willingness to pay in real estate. Katarzyna Szopik-Depczyńska is an Associate Professor in Management Sciences at the University of Szczecin, Institute of Management. She is the author of many books and about 170 publications, including in Q1 and Q2 journals. Her main research topics are innovation management, R&D, and sustainability issues. Raffaella Taddeo is an Assistant Professor of Commodity Sciences, Department of Economic Studies, University ‘G. d’Annunzio’ of Chieti-Pescara (Italy). Her main research interests concern the theoretical-methodological and applicative developments of Industrial Ecology, in particular for the implementation of eco-efficient productions and for synergistic and integrated management of materials and energy flows. Amparo Tarazona-Vento is a Lecturer at the Department of Urban Studies and Planning, University of Sheffield. Her research investigates the contested politics of urban regeneration, placing a special focus on the analysis of the political mobilization of iconic architecture and the contribution of grassroots politics to placemaking. Tse-Hui Teh is a Lecturer in Urban Design and Planning at the Bartlett School of Planning at University College London. She is interested in how urban areas can coevolve to become sustainable ecosystems supporting flourishing human and non-human lives. Raghu Dharmapuri Tirumala is a Senior Lecturer in the Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning, University of Melbourne. His main research interests lie in sustainable infrastructure finance, green and blue economy, and public-private partnerships. Kruti Upadhyay, SCR, is an Independent Researcher in the field of climate change financing, green financing, and sustainability. Prior to this, she was engaged by the University of Melbourne through Husys Consulting Limited as a consultant for undertaking research work broadly focused on SDGs, blue economy, and infrastructure financing. Daniel de O. Vasconcelos is a PhD Candidate in the Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning, University of Melbourne, and holds a master’s in Politics and International Relations from Peking University. His research explores new conditions of social existence engendered by technology, creativity, and their reflections on the built environment. Francisco Vergara-Perucich is the Chair of the Centro Producción del Espacio at the Universidad de Las Américas, where he is an Associate Professor. He earned a BA in Architecture from the Universidad Central de Chile and an MA from the Pontificia Universidad Católica

Contributors  xxv de Chile. He also holds an MSc and a PhD in Planning Development from The Bartlett Development Planning Unit. Paul Walker is a Professor of Architecture in the Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning at the University of Melbourne. He teaches architectural theory, history, and design. Walker is the editor and lead author of John Andrews: Architect of Uncommon Sense (Harvard Design Press, 2023). Jennifer Whyte is a Professor in the School of Project Management at the University of Sydney, and Director of the John Grill Institute for Project Leadership. Her research interests are in infrastructure, leadership, organizing, design, digitalization, and visualization, and recent work on systems integration, handover, projects as interventions into nature, project data analytics, and future making. Mark Wilson is a Professor of Urban and Regional Planning in the School of Planning, Design and Construction at Michigan State University. Research interests address the urban implications of autonomous technologies; planning for industrial parks; mega-event planning for world’s fairs and Olympics; and the role of innovation, knowledge, and information technology in urban development. Stephen Wood is an Associate Professor in the Faculty of Humanities, Arts, Social Sciences and Education, University of New England, Australia, where he is also the Course Coordinator for the Urban and Regional Planning Program. His main research interests lie in planning theory and urban design. Kangmin Wu is an Assistant Professor in the Research Department of Human Geography and Regional Development at Guangzhou Institute of Geography, Guangdong Academy of Sciences. His research interests include innovation and financial geography. Yanqing Fang is a Lecturer at the School of Management Science and Engineering, Tianjin University of Finance & Economics. Her main research focuses on lean construction, construction management, and project management. Tan Yigitcanlar is an eminent Australian Researcher and Author with international recognition and impact in the field of smart and sustainable city development. He is a professor of Urban Studies and Planning at the School of Architecture and Built Environment, Queensland University of Technology, Brisbane, Australia. Xiaoyang Yu received his BEng (Hons) in Civil Engineering from the Queensland University of Technology. He is presently an MPhil student at the School of Civil and Environmental Engineering, Queensland University of Technology. His research area is the development of discrete choice modelling and analysis of consumer preferences for Mobility as a Service. Sharon Zukin is a professor emerita at Brooklyn College and the Graduate Center of the City University of New York. She is the author of Naked City, The Innovation Complex, and the classic study Loft Living. She received the Lynd Award for career achievement in urban sociology from the American Sociological Association.

Foreword: Creativity and the built environment Charles Laundry

Then, now, and tomorrow: A trajectory More people, more organizations, more cities, regions, countries, and global organizations for more reasons have found that the culture, creativity, and innovation triad can aid their city development as they embark on and navigate their transformational trajectories. They understand that culture is who we are and that creativity can help create what we can become. They asked what are the physical conditions that enable these intangible assets to flourish. They recognized a significant phenomenon in the transition to the evolving knowledge intensive economy from the 1980s onwards. These were dramatic affecting the organization of work and prospects of cities as the deindustrialization process in the West had winners and losers. It reduced the power of blue collar workers and their unions with a rise of professional workers and the ‘creative’ professions associated with design or new media. Remember too, and this is now hard to believe, that we then thought that cities had little hope as cities hollowed out with suburbanization and as industries declined and moved production to Asia and elsewhere. New York, as one example, nearly went bankrupt in the 1970s. The city then began again to exert a gravitational pull with the recognition of its resources in learning, its capacity to help exchange and transactions, its gathering places, its cultural institutions and richer artistic life and vibrancy, its stock of buildings and infrastructure and its transport links. The city was seen as an accelerator of opportunity, chance encounter, and resources. The city, as a dense communications system, is not easy to replicate in other settings. Once the urban focus re-emerged, a vast urban regeneration process began with the tearing down of the past to make the city ready for professional services related industries, offices, and residential developments. These frequently pushed out older tenants mostly living in more human scale street patterns as a result of the gentrification process. Often, the results were negative. Simultaneously, an extensive retrofitting exercise began. Worldwide several hundred old warehouses, breweries; train, bus, or fire stations; cement, coal, textile, tobacco, or steel factories; old markets or military barracks were transformed into culture or experience centres, start-up incubators, and company breeding grounds or headquarters and as hubs for wider urban regeneration. The latter often used the industrial heritage to provide identity as the creative professionals, in particular, were drawn to these places. Strangely, those same places that had horrible working conditions began to be celebrated as places for the new and the hip. Those structures resonated as they exude memory with their layered patina of time in an age where novelty increasingly erases memory, and physically, their spaces are large and allow for flexibility and interesting structures. The homogenizing effects of a globalizing world highlighted the desire to protect the distinctive and the special including tangible and intangible heritage. Within this the cultural

Foreword: Creativity and the built environment  xxvii creative industries were seen as playing a significant role by impacting on anchoring local identity and belonging or the perception of place to attract talent, investment, tourism and image as well as helping improve the quality of life and overall liveability. At the same time, the real estate community saw vast opportunities to build afresh with icon-mania taking hold worldwide in a frenzy to outpace urban competitors. It continues unabated as cities try to find the physical version of the killer app that takes the world by storm and puts a city on a fast route to fame. A roving band of nomadic starchitects began to step over themselves to produce the most spectacular forms, proliferating gleaming glass towers, bold shapes breaking out of traditional square box patterns; skyscrapers exploding onto the landscape, some with good public spaces. Vast retailing, entertainment, or cultural centres try to bewitch, enchant and seduce. The attempt to mimic the ambiance and creative milieux that older more finely grained and textured somewhat shabby rather diverse environments that artists in particular began to regenerate was difficult with newly built structures. Think here of the shabby café with second hand furniture and atmosphere versus the more squeaky clean alternative. Or a re-sited university department housed in transformed industrial building versus a green field innovation campus located at the city’s edge. This raised the question of what physical contexts enable creativity. That creative milieu can be defined as: a place – either a cluster of buildings, a part of a city, a city as a whole, or a region – that contains the necessary pre-conditions in terms of ‘hard’ and ‘soft’ infrastructure to generate a flow of ideas and inventions. Such a milieu is a physical setting where a critical mass of entrepreneurs, intellectuals, social activists, artists, administrators, power brokers, or students can operate in an open-minded, cosmopolitan context and where face to face interaction creates new ideas, artefacts, products, and services and institutions and as a consequence contributes to economic success. The creative milieu requires the right mix of hard and soft infrastructures and the tangible and intangible, such as institutions, research centres, cultural facilities, buildings, and support services – mobility, amenities, healthcare – as well as a density of social networks. The ‘hard infrastructure’ is the ‘container’ and provides the physical environment, setting a platform upon which the activity base – the ‘contents’ – can unfold. ‘Soft infrastructure’, by contrast, consists of the associative or intermediary structures and social networks, connections, and human interactions that underpins and encourages the flow of ideas between individuals and institutions including relaxed meeting places, events, symposia, or conferences. These intangible attributes are manifested in informal groups, cross-sectoral partnerships, collaboration, and common interest networks and crucially in forms of trust, kinship, and personal relationships. The qualities of urbanity are key, which the German saying ‘Stadtluft macht frei’ (urban air makes you free) encapsulates as it highlights the idea that urban citizens are more open-minded, cosmopolitan, able to deal with diversity and difference, and welcome chance encounter. In this sense, urbanity can be defined by a set of distinctive social characteristics. Other characteristics of urbanity are physical concentration, proximity and density, flows of people, or the speed of information and mobility. It involves too the notion of the public realm which Richard Sennett describes as any context that facilitates free communication among strangers where shared spaces accommodate unplanned and unmanaged encounters as they are beneficial for personal and social development. That public realm requires publicly owned places and spaces that belong to and are accessible by everyone regardless of gender, race, ethnicity, age, or socio-economic level. These can include city streets, lanes, squares, plazas, sidewalks, trails, parks, open spaces, waterfronts, public transit systems, and civic buildings and institutions. With the digitizing world virtual spaces can be considered a new type of public space that fosters interaction and social mixing.

xxviii  Foreword: Creativity and the built environment The Covid experience has highlighted how in spite of the opportunities cyberspace provided, meeting physically remains a deep human need and so the power of public space. The public sphere (German: Öffentlichkeit) was first defined by philosopher Jürgen ­Habermas. It carries with it a related and broader idea of relevance. The public sphere is a place accessible to all, where public debate and a discussion culture are encouraged, and where issues of public concern, often expressing diverging views, can be debated. That debate takes shape via mass and social media or meetings, academic contexts, or government policy documents. All of this combines to the process of creative placemaking, a term coined by Artscape in Toronto in 2006. This harnesses the potential of the arts, culture, and creativity to serve a community’s interest whilst simultaneously pushing a city’s wider agenda for change, growth, transformation, and physical development in ways that build distinctiveness, character, and quality of place. Its success is reliant upon a collaborative approach between various civic stakeholders such as governments, private investment, not-for-profit organizations, artists, and citizen groups. Shared leadership and partnering are crucial to build momentum to improve the quality of life and to revitalize buildings, neighbourhoods, or cities. What next? Creativity was invariably a key attribute of city making. Think here as an instance of the astonishing heritage left by cities across the world, especially places of ritual like churches, mosques, or temples that sought to impress and generate awe that required new methods of building or the first aqueducts. The difference between the past and today is that cities are self-consciously encouraging and planning to create the enabling pre-conditions for creativity. Its central characteristic is to foster a more open mindset, management style, and organizational structure for inventive ideas and projects to flourish. Here, the notion of the ‘creative bureaucracy’ is important. This allows a city to respond to changing circumstances and to become adaptable. Creativity is context driven. What was ‘creative’ in the 19th or 20th century will be different from what is creative now and tomorrow. Think of the complexity of developing London’s 720 km long sewage system in the 1860s. Or over the last 40 years, the focus on the contribution of the arts to city making and now how we can help foster the green transition. The city has always been a source of problems as well as a laboratory for finding inventive solutions to any problems it creates technologically, conceptually, and socially. Now the special focus should be on ‘what really matters’ such as creating the fourth clean, green, lean industrial revolution, intercultural understanding, helping to reduce the rich-poor divide and to create ambition and meaning beyond consumerism. This requires a 360-degree holistic perspective to ensure the complexity of the city is fully understood. It acknowledges the specific sub-sector perspectives and knowledge but stresses that silo thinking has limitations. These overall urban trends highlight spatial planning issues and three are significant. First, the alarming and escalating levels of inequality and subsequent segregations. The extreme concentration of money, power, and influence of a few at the very top has pernicious effects on the rest of us. Second, development is a double edged sword. The intent of improving areas is positive, such as creating public spaces, parks, new housing, or bike lanes or investing in increasing safety. Yet, when driven solely by market mechanisms, this process raises property prices and rents often pushing out precisely those at whom development is targeted. This gentrification process over time changes the authenticity or sense of community as local shops close to be replaced often by upscale shops or chain stores and workspaces disappear. Property owners or speculative investors are the beneficiaries getting a windfall of unearned income of neighbourhood

Foreword: Creativity and the built environment  xxix improvement. Often, artists in search of cheap space and good intent spur development if they turn a dilapidated warehouse into a gallery that then attracts a restaurant, cafe, or an artisan bakery. So indirectly they trigger the forces they wish to prevent. This raises the questions of ‘whose voices’, ‘whose culture’, and ‘what culture’ are being heard. Third, private interests are shaping the look and feel of cities in ways rarely lead to balanced economies, well mixed communities and instead reinforce spatial segregation. It is the relative increase in capital value from property over the last decades that has far outstripped other forms of investment, thereby sharpening the affordability crisis dramatically. This raises the question: what is the aim of creativity and its relation to the built environment? Urban creativity needs a purpose, a goal, and an ethical frame. It should include giving back to its community and even to the world. It is better to be the most creative city for the world rather than in the world. This ethical framework and moral compass should guide a city’s imaginative energies and actions. Any evolving place development initiative needs to address the dynamic of our current economic system, which is ‘materially expansive, socially divisive and environmentally hostile’. Today, a deep concern to be sustainable in every sense is one such priority. Thus, our collective imagination needs to focus on innovations that go beyond being sustainable, which tends to imply ‘do less harm’ and to reduce the ecological footprint so that we can operate within the natural limits of the biosphere whilst coexisting with nature. Being ‘restorative and regenerative’ goes further. To restore is to bring back to a healthy state and to be regenerative is to allow the system to evolve. This is a place and economy that goes beyond a ‘take-make-waste’ growth driven model. It highlights how growth models can be overcome such as with circular, doughnut, or sharing economy principles. This would shape how planners, investors, architects, and the construction industry operates. The resulting buildings may look the same, but their internal construction processes will differ to ensure they are intelligent buildings. Yet as buildings communicate through their mere presence, their physical aesthetic is increasingly changing, such as with green roofs or living green walls. Our future creativity would encourage physical environments where its communities within their daily lives are encouraged to behave differently. Here, the 15-Minute City promoted by Paris or the Barcelona Superblock are pushing in the right direction. These seek to localize and establish facilities from health care to education to pocket parks in close proximity. The walkability enabled shifts infrastructure patterns, it highlights public transport solutions and micro-mobility options and even urban rewilding. It requires planning regimes to create physical settings and structures that foster all of these processes. Here, you not only ‘repair, reuse, recycle’ but also restore natural capital and so rebuild and enhance the conditions for cities to become resilient. The return to the local is being seen as a boon potentially increasing a sense of community and so these processes can improve peoples’ quality of life. Here, the pandemic was a game changer and increased our understanding of how this potential might dramatically help our work/life balance. It normalized hybrid working which changed our relationship to space, place, and time. If you only have to go to an office occasionally and can interact increasingly through Zoom or Teams, this impacts on our sense of the space we operate in. The idea of operating within a 100 km radius became normal. The digitizing world highlights how we think about community given the human bias to be social. The ability to be ‘here and there’ simultaneously force feeds a more nomadic world. Whilst the desire for and necessity of community has not changed how it is expressed has – less bound in the fixed physical spaces of traditional community limited to family and a few outsiders. It is defined more by and embedded in our networks than classic bonds. Place matters in

xxx  Foreword: Creativity and the built environment our shifting landscape. It provides anchorage, belonging, opportunity, connection, and, ideally, inspiration. Here, online and offline, cyberspace and local space combine to make identity, shape interests, and generate a meaningful life. The public realm, from sidewalks to benches, pocket parks, and well-designed covered areas, rise dramatically in importance as do third places, like informal cafes. These third places are essential for community building – communal yet homely. The idea of civic creativity I developed in 1998 can be a useful framing device. This is defined as imaginative problem-solving applied to public good and public interest objectives. It seeks to combine an entrepreneurial attitude whilst maintaining the focus on issues of equity and transparency. ‘Civic creativity’ is the capacity for public officials, businesses, large and small, or civil society organizations together to generate a flow of opportunities to improve urban life physically and in terms of emotional experience. This highlights how public policy priorities in city making need to change towards a shift ­towards the ‘social turn’ so that investment is geared to good social results including addressing inequality and affordability as well as providing opportunities for participation and empowerment. It will be a battle to shape market driven economic processes towards these broader public interest aims. By insisting on some strategic, non-negotiable, principles yet being tactically flexible it is possible to ensure that the higher goals of a creative city agenda are not side tracked. Those principles ensure that one has strong guidelines for action whilst maintaining the fluidity necessary to adapt to changing circumstances. Charles Landry

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A reflection on the interface between creativity and the built environment Julie T. Miao and Tan Yigitcanlar

State of the art review This book brings together two important but together not so much investigated areas of ­research – i.e., creativity and built environment. On the one hand, built environment refers to the human-made surroundings where people gather to live, work, socialise, and play. It encompasses both the physical structures where people undertake these activities and the supporting infrastructures, such as transport, water, and energy networks. There are several key industries and associated disciplines that provide direct material and intellectual inputs in producing and altering our built environment, including architecture, design, planning, construction, real ­estate, and so on. On the other hand, creativity can be described as the ability to produce new and original ideas and things. In other words, it is any act, idea, or product that changes an existing domain or transforms an existing domain into a new one (Yigitcanlar, Velibeyoglu and Baum, 2008). While the creative industries boom, during the early 2000s, brought the creativity discourse at the forefront of academic debates, creativity within the built environment sectors in shaping our hard environment for better functionality, aesthetics, and economic values has long been recorded and celebrated (Tiwari and Miao, 2022). There are other disciplines, notably economics, urban studies, geography, sociology, and public policies, that although not directly engaged in the engineering side of hard environment, provide crucial insights on the economic, social, and institutional fabrics that are constructed or disrupted by our built environment. How creativity, as a human attribute and social capital, could be influenced by people’s lived experience and surroundings is a revival topic among these disciplines, especially since the popularity of the ‘creative cities’ (Landry, 2000, 2019) and ‘creative class’ (Florida, 2002) theses. Jane Jacobs’ book The Death and Life of Great American Cities (1961) is a forerunning in the debate on how built environment, in her case, sidewalks, public parks, and functional diversity among adjacent uses, could all help to induce users, schedules, and random encounters, which encourage a sense of safety but also encourage creativity and innovation (‘the economy of ­diversity’). Her critiques of the orthodox urbanism, which may be regarded as radical and creative in its own regard in promoting an ordered, self-contained, and low-density suburban living, speak to the fact that some contents and practices of creativity could hold responsible for the decline of city neighbourhoods, diversity, and the source of innovation. Inspired by Jacobs’ writing on the importance of dense mixed-use development, walkable streets, and bustling pedestrian environment, Florida (2002) highlighted the attractiveness of a certain type of urban environments and social fabrics to creative workers: the so-called 3Ts (i.e., technology, talent, tolerance) and the authenticity. In his reversed logic of ‘jobs following talent’, the hard and soft qualities of built environment become protruding. DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-1

2  J. T. Miao and T. Yigitcanlar On the other side of the coin, Peter Hall’s account of Cities in Civilization (1998) is a tribute to the cities as the birthplace of Western civilisation. Drawing on 2,500 years’ history and spanning across 21 cities, Hall identifies four distinct expressions of civic creativity: artistic growth, technological progress, the marriage of culture and technology, and solutions to evolving problems. All these expressions found their artefacts in the built environment, being it through the architectures, the street patterns, the factories and stream working lines, and the bars and music venues. The last expression of creativity, in particular, that cities have to solve problems created by their very size, is strongly resonated in built formats. With Imperial Rome, for example, came the apartment blocks and aqueducts; 19th-century London introduced prisons and sewers; 20th-century New York developed the skyscrapers; and Los Angeles became the first centreless city ruled by cars. Although implicit, the role of urban built environment in attracting artists, engineers, and enterprisers, as well as in stimulating and realising their creativities and innovations, is underlined. Zooming in on the roles of artists, Sharon Zukin’s Loft Living (1982) explains the artists’ role in attracting investors and developers to the derelict loft districts where they made their home, and uncovers the broader economic shifts and cultural transformations that brought widespread attention to artists as lifestyle models and agents of urban change. In a similar but more practice-facing manner, Charles Landry’s best-selling book, The Creative Cities (2000), provides a clarion call for imaginative action in the development and running of urban life, as well as a clear and detailed toolkit of how to revive and revitalise cities, drawing upon case studies of urban innovation and regeneration from around the world. This seminal work has led many built environment professionals and local decision-makers to view creativity as an essential intangible in the construction of urban environments. The creativity and built environment symbiosis not only helps in a consolidated livability and sense of place but also cultivates citizen creativity and civic engagement (Baum et al., 2007). This experience, in turn, can contribute to shape a happier, healthier, more sustainable, and just urban futures. Plausibly, these scholarships draw our attention to the influence of built environment on socio-economic and physical well-being, or on how urban challenges resulting from congestion, climate changes, and segregations, etc., could be solved creatively. Furthermore, the literature also underlines the positive correlation between prosperity and creative activity (Baum, O’Connor and Yigitcanlar, 2009; Durmaz, Platt and Yigitcanlar, 2010). There are, however, very few dedicated volumes that focus on the reciprocal relationships between creativity and the built environment simultaneously, especially from an international and/or multi-disciplinary approach. Existing works are of several types. The largest number of existing books are conventional edited collections and authored books focused upon a particular disciplinary or sub-disciplinary field. These include, for example, ­Anjeline de Dios and Lily Kong’s Handbook on the Geographies of Creativity (2020, Geography), Sarah Williams Goldhagen’s Welcome to Your World (2017; Architecture), Natalya Sergeeva’s Making Sense of Innovation in the Built Environment (2018; Construction), Silvia Cerisola’s Cultural Heritage, Creativity and Economic Development (2019, Preservation), Julie Miao, Paul Benneworth and Nick Phelps’ Making the 21st Century Knowledge Complex (2016, Planning), Alexander Tzonis and Liane Lefaivre’s Times of Creative Destruction (2016; Architectural History), Tüzin Baycan’s Sustainable City and Creativity (2016, Public Policies), and Tan Yigitcanlar, Koray Velibeyoglu and Scott Baum’s Creative Urban Regions (2008, Urban Studies). As could be expected, these volumes tended to be based around narrower and more specific themes and often failed to explicitly address multi-disciplinary reflections.

A reflection on the interface  3 The second category of existing publications tends to focus on either creativity or built environment. These include, for example, Robert Sternberg’s The Cambridge Handbook of Creativity (2019), which collected a few chapters that touch upon the physical environment of creativity. Karl Kropf’s The Handbook of Urban Morphology (2017) focuses on the form, structure, and evolution of the built environment but with creativity implied rather than explicitly addressed and analysed. Gerhard Krauss and Rolf Sternberg’s Handbook of Research on Entrepreneurship and Creativity (2014) included a section discussing the influence of public policies on creativity. Janet Chan and Kerry Thomas’ Handbook of Research on Creativity (2013) discussed the influence of school environment on creativity. Third category includes those studies discussing creativity from industry and/or city management perspective. Nancy Marshall’s The Routledge Handbook of People and Place in the 21st Century City (2019) discussed contemporary issues that have influenced the relationship between people and place in urban environments. Although it has major implications for the processes and products of urban planning, design, and management, it tends to treat the connections between creativity and built environment as exogeneity. Candace Jones’s The Oxford Handbook of Creative Industries (2015) focused on individual creativity and scaled up to teams, social networks, cities, and labour markets. Built environment is only a subtle matter covered in this Handbook. Andersson, Andersson and Mellander’s Handbook of Creative Cities (2011) detailed the construction of creative cities but primarily from the perspectives of urban studies and planning. This brief review suggests that there are currently intellectual gaps in: first of all, exploring the endogenous and reciprocal relationships between creativity and the built environment in great depth and scope; second, offering a state-of-the-art, critical review of the theoretical, methodological, and practical issues connecting creativity and built environment; third, encouraging interdisciplinary dialogues from leading voices internationally that not only survey the field but also develop and introduce new agendas and frameworks for future research; and last, a wider and more comprehensive collection and reference point mapping out the terrain of creativity and built environment in an international and multi-disciplinary context. What this book offers The concise review reported above indicates that despite the growth of the literature on creativity and the built environment, it is still an u­ nder-studied area. Particularly, there is, to our knowledge, a lack of key reference sources, especially in the form of handbook or companion, that are ‘go to resources’ for practitioners, policymakers, researchers, and undergraduate and postgraduate students. The raison d’etre of this book is to fill such a gap. Building upon the extensive expertise in the field and also respective success of the two editors’ books – Making 21st Century Knowledge Complexes (Miao, Benneworth and Phelps, 2015) and Building Prosperous Knowledge Cities (Yigitcanlar, Metaxiotis and Carrillo, 2012), Miao and Yigitcanlar team together in this Companion to reflect, celebrate and prognosis the reciprocal relationship between creativity and the built environment within an international and multi-disciplinary context. Despite the growing authored and edited volumes that touch upon some of the similar issues discussed above, few were able to bring together leading international voices from multi-disciplinary backgrounds to convene on this topic in a scale and scope achieved by this Companion. There is also practical value in composing a comprehensive Companion like this one, when public and private interest on creative-led economic growth and

4  J. T. Miao and T. Yigitcanlar urban regeneration is surging and local stakeholders are looking for inspiration, lessons, and best practices worldwide in designing their next grand projects. Specifically, our aims for the companion are as follows:

• To provide critical reviews and appraisals of the current, and future, development of con-

ceptual and theoretical approaches as well as empirical knowledge and understanding of the reciprocal relations between creativity and the built environment. • To encourage dialogue across disciplinaries of Architecture, Planning, Design, Real Estate, Construction, Urban Studies, Economics and Geography, and so on, and to synthesise best practices against different regional and local contexts through the international reach of our contributors. • To engage with, and reflect upon, the practice of a creative-led urban development strategy by connecting theoretical discussions with empirical reflections, where such strategies could contribute to constructing happier, healthier, more sustainable, and just urban futures. • To offer a repository of relevant information, material, and knowledge to support research, policymaking, practice, and transferability of experiences to address the connection between creativity and the built environment. With these aims in mind, we put together a Companion that brings together invaluable perspectives of key experts across the globe on the topic. The Companion helps in forming a consolidated understanding on the multi-faceted intersections between creativity and the built environment at times when the disciplinary boundaries are becoming more porous. Moreover, it also generates much needed inspirations, lessons, and best practices from across the globe for public and private actors in designing and delivering projects that support creative-led economic growth and urban regeneration. Contributions After the introduction, this Companion is organised into five sections, each drawing on crossdisciplinary insights and debates. Section 1: Economy and productivity

This section connects creativity, productivity, and economic growth and situates such connections within the broader hard and soft environments. Eight scholars reflect critically on how our built environment not only contains but also profoundly stimulates or intimidates human imaginations. Case studies are drawn from the UK, US, China, Indonesia, and Australia, among others. Silvia Cerisola, in Chapter 2, explores the mediating effect of multi-dimensional creativity. Specifically, it examines local economic development based on the relationship between built cultural heritage and creativity. The hypothesis is that impressive elements of built cultural heritage, through their aesthetic and historical value, may inspire local creativity, which in turn favours economic development by generating new and innovative ideas. An application recently conducted in England is presented here and originally compared with previous results obtained for Italy. The mechanism is confirmed, although in England, built cultural heritage seems to enhance economic development both directly and indirectly through its role in inspiring economic creativity by triggering related entrepreneurial and business ideas, which, in turn, do interact effectively with artistic and scientific creative talents.

A reflection on the interface  5 Taking this quantitative exploration further, Wu and colleagues’ contribution in Chapter 3 speaks directly to the influence of built environment, measured by environmental health, daily environment, mixed land use, commuting convenience, and technology atmosphere, on regional innovation productivity. Using China’s Pearl River Delta (PRD) as case study, the authors show that the spatial distribution of innovation productivity in the PRD is extremely uneven, and that the built environment has a significant impact on the spatial differentiation of regional innovation performance. Meanwhile, it seems that the built environment factor impacts the spatial heterogeneity of regional innovation productivity to varying degrees, with technology atmosphere impacting the most. Their analysis thus provides direct evidence on the importance of innovation-oriented design and updating of built environments. In a similar vein but on a more defined scope, Zhiyuan Li, in Chapter 4, explores an interesting but largely undermined intersection between housing conditions, productivity, and creativity. Drawing upon a unique questionnaire survey conducted in Beijing, Li shows that long commutes negatively affect knowledge workers’ efficiency and innovation. Moreover, exploratory analysis and non-parametric tests show that the networking opportunities of knowledge workers living in seriously unaffordable housing conditions are more likely to be affected than knowledge workers on other housing affordability levels. His findings, therefore, echo that of Silvia Cerisola in unveiling the multi-dimensional creativity parameters but also highlight the multi-faced housing conditions beyond the sheer numbers and affordability that could influence knowledge workers’ performance. Taking the discussions on the multi-dimensional creativity and its spatial articulations further, Nicholas Phelps and Holi Wijaya’s work in Chapter 5 discusses business innovation at informal settings. Drawing insights from first-hand interviews and survey data at two kampungs (traditional villages) in Semarang City, Indonesia, the authors note that innovation is a notable feature both of informal businesses and the informal urban context. In particular, they highlight the home as a locus of innovation, whereas the neighbourhood or kampung appears less relevant as a supportive setting for business innovation. To a certain extent, therefore, Phelps and Wijaya’s writing on community and business innovation reaffirm the argument of Zhiyuan Li that housing, as an important component of the built environment, could also play a role in the innovation and creativity equation. Also focusing on the business environment and the variegated stakeholders involved, Chapter 6, contributed by Julie Miao, discusses innovation infrastructures as carefully crafted hard, soft, and cultural facilitators of innovation in defined urban areas. She argues that instead of attributing the genesis of an innovation cluster to ‘happy coincidences’, a better understanding of the design, utilisation, and improvement of innovation infrastructures, as well as the interweaved relations between different stakeholders, could shed light on the much-debated genesis and evolution of innovation clusters. She refers to Seaport Innovation District at Boston and illustrates how artists, designers, developers, planners, and local bureaucrats have all played a role in turning this underused yet primely located land into one of the most sought-after and least affordable economic hotspots in Boston. Eileen Sim’s contribution in Chapter 7 builds upon Miao’s work on innovation infrastructure but focuses more on the design and evolution of office spaces, especially in a post-COVID environment. She traces the evolution of four generations of workspaces from corridor offices to open-plan offices, and then non-territorial, sharing-based model, and now a hybrid working mode. Sim argues that the adoption of hybrid working will have major implications in how offices should be redesigned. The process of redesigning will vary dependent on the type of workplace that an organisation currently occupies as well as employees’ activity preferences. Chapters 8 and 9, both contributed by Kruti Upadhyay and Raghu Tirumala, lead our attention to the green and blue economies and how creative financial mechanisms have been

6  J. T. Miao and T. Yigitcanlar developed so far to support their development. In Chapter 8, the authors emphasise that green infrastructure is receiving substantial international attention considering the benefits it provides and can lead to an improved chance of achieving SDGs and combating climate change-related issues. Investments required to meet SDGs and climate action are, however, very substantial, hence there is a necessity to configure creative financing mechanisms. Some of the mechanisms that emerged are carbon credits, concessional finance, different thematic bonds (green, social, and sustainability), and the broader blended finance arena. Chapter 9 also bases its rationale on the Sustainable Development Goals (14 – Life under Water). Tirumala and Upadhyay believe that the traditional methods of financing have not been successful in addressing the concerns of this sector. Innovative changes in the blue finance ecosystem are nonetheless emerging quickly. These include (i) stronger articulation of the blue themes in the mandate of the financial institutions, (ii) development of various taxonomies, (iii) the instruments that have been developed and launched, and (iv) the institutional mechanisms to augment the capacity of the stakeholders and to channel a wide range of investors to the blue economy projects. All in all, contributions in the first section provide the statistical evidence on the connections between creativity and the built environment. More importantly, they draw our attention to the vintaged definitions, articulations, and components of both creativity and the built environment. It is very interesting, for example, to note that housing is an important shaper of creativity and that developers and financiers can also be imaginative in planting the seed of an innovation cluster or sector. Many authors also allude to culture and social fabric that are embedded in the built environment (Section 2) as important influencers of a place’s creative capacity. Section 2: Society and culture

Taking on the clue left by the last session, Section 2 explicitly addresses how hard environments are fabricated with social, cultural, and institutional meanings. Their unique feel and layout are constantly absorbed by those lived-in and passing-bys and form part of their cognitive development and creativity. Under the overarching theme of Society and Culture, chapters in this section discuss the social and cultural norms and standards that shape, and are shaped by, the urban forms, as well as how they evolve and differ at different times and in different settings, with case studies drawn from Baltimore in Maryland, Gwangju in South Korea, to Leh in India and Helsinki in Finland. The opening Chapter 10, contributed by Dan Eugen Ratiu, suggests a philosophical question of seeing the ‘city’ as a normative world in order to explore the often-neglected aspects of the creative urban life. Echoing the work of Sharon Zukin, the author discusses how new forms of creative work and urban lifestyles, as epitomised by the ‘project-oriented city’ and the ‘creative city’, have emerged under the influence of artistic lifestyle and values. The analysis reveals that extending the hyper-mobile and flexible creative lifestyle as everyday urban life triggers both benefits and risks. It also raises serious challenges to the creativity-led policies for urban development and their sustainability. Rishika Mukhopadhyay, in Chapter 11, details two street-based public art festivals in India. Specifically, the author is interested in how these events are inspired by the existing sociospatiality and cultural production of the space on the one hand, and how these public art events chose to interact with the built environment on the other. The first case, Rong Matir Panchali, a two-day art festival organised by Kumartuli Art Forum, has transformed an impoverished neighbourhood into a momentary space of spectacle. Comparatively, Chitpurer Chalchitra, a threeday public art trail organised by Chitpur Craft Collective, has interweaved its creative process

A reflection on the interface  7 with the existing built environment and thus foregrounded spatial performativity and the city’s existing visual aesthetics. Different interactions with the built environment raise questions about art’s political commitments. Building upon Mukhopadhyay’s articulation on the artist organisations, Chapter 12, contributed by Michael Buser, further addresses a gap in scholarship on the role of local arts groups in India and the impact they can have on place-making. The author narrates the Ladakh Arts and Media Organisation’s heritage-led regeneration efforts in Leh Old Town, India. The analysis revealed positive impacts the organisation has made both on the built environment and wider community. But it is noted that due to the organisation’s voluntary nature and small size, life in the Old Town remains largely as it is for the past several decades, characterised by deteriorating buildings and poor water, sanitation, and transport infrastructures, hence denoting the need for a broader support. Focusing on informality and the active promotion of the right to the [formal] city by slum dwellers, Martín Arias-Loyola and Francisco Vergara-Perucich in Chapter 13 present three cases of building the first cooperative bakery in a Chilean slum, a service-learning, and a ­Public Participation Geographic Information System, where multiple actors (grassroot informal communities, local and international NGOs, academia and the state) co-produced several actions aimed to make Los Arenales’ urban utopia a concrete reality. Their work demonstrates the complex, dynamic, and multi-faceted relationship between creativity and the [informal] built environment, and calls for a prefigurative politics stance, where the inexistent place (utopia) is gradually constructed in the here and now through direct action and planification. In Chapter 14, HaeRan Shin’s account of the remaking of Gwangju in South Korea through a creative city brand touches upon the roles of both events and key actors in restoring the image of the city. Shin criticises a monolithic view on creativity by demonstrating that different creativities can encounter, conflict, and negotiate. Her longitudinal study of Gwangju, the place where university students staged a peaceful anti-dictatorship protest on May 18, 1980, and in response, the national government sent in troops that brutally beat protestors, shows three stages of transformation in which its creative city strategies competed and renegotiated the nature of the built environment to reform the city’s identity. Importantly, Shin suggests the addition of history and memory to the intersections between creativity and the built environment. As the case of Gwangjun demonstrates, different creativities relating to the specific memory of a built environment can eventually align and combine to become an asset to urban resilience. On the transformation of physical environment, Meghan Ashlin Rich, in Chapter 15, examines artists’ relationship to city revitalisation and the built environment, and the role of arts-themed development and branding in city revitalisation plans. Here, the artists’ role of transforming and upscaling previously industrial spaces before they eventually being displaced – a process also noted by Sharon Zukin – is alluded to. Yet the author rightly points out that much of the research on gentrification has centred on global cities, whereas how arts and culture affect the built environment of peripheral, smaller cities, is less discussed. This chapter focuses on an arts and cultural district in Baltimore, Maryland, as an example of arts themed development through public-private partnerships. This case shows the possibilities of ‘striking a balance’ between revitalisation and gentrification in arts districts when development includes careful consideration of various neighbourhood stakeholders’ interests. Partly confirming Rich’s argument but through a less successful example, Anna Laura Palazzo and Romina D’Ascanio in Chapter 16 document a culture-led regeneration of the Ostiense working-class district in the city of Rome from a ‘factory city’ to a ‘knowledge city’. Despite its reputation as a multi-cultural melting pot, Ostiense is facing a far more ambitious challenge. Besides conflicts over space and uses, Palazzo and D’Ascanio record variegated governance

8  J. T. Miao and T. Yigitcanlar expectations and failures in mediating between various interests, resulting in highly segmented dynamics along the multiple paths of ethnic, cultural, and socio-economic differences. Chapter 17, contributed by Tommi Inkinen, leads our attention to a more defined scale. Specifically, it looks at a temporal renewal of a cable factory into a dance house building in ­Helsinki. Most interestingly, its methodology combines creativity and built environment together with photographs, site-visit experiences, and qualitative classification framework considering three spatial elements: Material (architectural); Social (interactive); and Experienced (emotional) spaces, and embedded them on three spatial scales: the building, its immediate surrounding, and the city. Take-away lessons are: first, combination and utilisation of old structures in the creation of new spaces for arts and culture is still a highly viable solution. Second, active programming should be considered together with physical regeneration. Third, accessibility and customer feedback cannot be underestimated. Taking together, Section 2 offers new insights on the conceptualisation of cities and creativity and underlines the different implications in normative values where different definitions and norms are promoted. It offers hope in balancing urban regeneration and inclusion and in leveraging the power of grassroot organisations, citizens, and their memories. It also warns the complicities involved and the different interests need to be coordinated. Section 3: Environment and space

This section discusses those activities that directly and indirectly shape the material development of our built environment and the thinking that exhibit human originality. At the same time, authors are encouraged to reflect upon how practice in these industries not only engineer our built environment but also exert influence on environmental sustainability, space utility, and place identity. Chapter 18, contributed by Francisco Javier Carrillo, is a theoretical reflection on how contemporary urban life has taken the Holocene climate for granted. Yet anthropogenic environmental impacts are on course to disrupt our way of life in deeper ways and at a wider scale than anything previously experienced by mankind at a global level. Despite increasing warnings, most cities seem to be in denial of the impending catastrophes and remain ill-prepared to cope with major disruptions. A review of the most relevant existing transdisciplinary literature leads to a call to overcome existing paradigms of urban development and let the Holocene city go. The case is made for rethinking the urban Anthropocene in the light of the challenges likely to be faced by cities around the world over the coming years. Also centred on the issue of sustainability, Cristina Ciliberto, Raffaella Taddeo, Wenjie Liao, Tan Yigitcanlar, and Giuseppe Ioppoloin in Chapter 19 provide a thorough review on current writing of Industry 4.0 and lean production, in order to seek for potential synergies between technological and organisational innovations in manufacturing and solutions for a more ecoefficient production. Result shows that these three dimensions complement each other, and the emerging technologies are potential vectors able to support lean and digitalised sustainable business models. In Chapter 20, Esther Anatolitis and Hélène Frichot discuss environment and space from a planning and design perspective. They introduce the concept of creative ecologies to investigate the ways in which a creative precinct emerges as a result of a range of complex relationships among diverse actors. Using a case study of Collingwood Yards in Naarm, Melbourne’s newest creative precinct, Anatolitis and Frichot demonstrate how deliberating and careful planning could resist contributing to yet more gentrification in the area, although years before it would become a creative precinct, developers deployed an unauthorised Gentri-fiction to leverage site

A reflection on the interface  9 value and future apartment sales by riding on the promise of rubbing shoulders with creative types – a process not so dissimilar from that in the Seaport Innovation District (Chapter 5). Focusing on the role of architectural and urban design in the Conceptual Age, Chapter 21, contributed by Rob McGauran, emphasises the importance of urban designers in not solving a problem, but identifying what is the right question to be asked. His case studies reveal the crucial role of quality affordable housing as essential infrastructure for the creative city, a finding echoes those made in Chapter 3. The more detailed study of the Monash National Employment and Innovation Cluster adds to the importance of a strong relationship between Town and Gown. To achieve this, the author suggests six crucial steps in setting up and delivering a master plan for the innovation precinct to succeed, a useful toolkit that could be adopted in other places. Chapter 22, contributed by Amparo Tarazona Vento, also departs from an architectural and design perspective but draws our attention to flagship architectures in city branding. Sharing the view of Chapter 14 on the power of history, Vento takes a historical approach to explore the connections between architecture, city branding, culture-led urban regeneration and the political economy of city making more widely, and the evolution of these connections over time. In reflection, Vento sounds at the danger of disconnecting these flagship architectures from everyday lives and the risk of focusing on the iconic city at the expense of the everyday others. Also paying attention to flagship architectures, Daniel Huppatz, in Chapter 23, critically examines recent iterations of the corporate campus, as represented by Apple Park, Facebook’s MPK 21, and Google’s Mountain View, from their external, symbolic value of branding and internal space designs that encourage staff creativity and collaboration. Although sustainable practices, programs, and initiatives are emphasised by all three cases, Huppatz points out their separatist nature as these corporate campuses isolate staff from the rest of the world and their use of ‘green camouflage’ to distract from the campus’s automobile dependency and huge energy expenditure elsewhere. Taking the design perspective further, Stephen Wood, Kim Dovey, and Lucinda Pike, in Chapter 24, ask how, and to what degree, morphology factors such as building types, public/ private interfaces, density, mix, and walkability make a difference to creative clusters. Drawing upon a series of in-depth interviews with cultural producers working in creative clusters in Melbourne, Sydney, and Brisbane, Australia, the authors argue that the creative cluster is a socio-spatial assemblage of a set of synergies that they summarise as MANA: Mix, Adaptation, Networks, and Ambivalence. The authors further argue that some of the fuzzier properties, such as ‘buzz’, ‘atmosphere’, and ‘character’ of creative clusters, are emergent effects of these synergies. The final Chapter 25 in this section, contributed by Marcus Foth, Skye Doherty, and Nick Kelly, is a useful reflection on the role of design and designers. Under the title ‘The dark side of creativity’, these authors point out that creativity and criminality are close cousins: while creativity is often heralded as a prime skillset planners and designers of the built environment must aspire towards, it can result in consequences that are ambiguous at best and malevolent or harmful at worst. Using design historiography as the method in examining three cases at Howard Smith Wharves, Brisbane airport, and fire resilience design in Australia, these authors sensitise the readers to the unintended implications when design creativity is co-opted by institutional processes and economic frameworks for objectives beyond the designer’s own circle of influence. All in all, chapters in Section 3 have covered a broad range of topics from environmental concerns to creative ecologies, from partnership to morphology. Those writings on design, in particular, have helped to set up a clear reciprocal relation between creativity and the built environment. Whereas a mixture of spatial qualities does attract the clustering of creative businesses,

10  J. T. Miao and T. Yigitcanlar the design and planning of these qualities need to be deliberate at avoiding certain unfavourable consequences. Section 4: Technology and innovation

This section illustrates how technologies and innovations, as displays of human creativity, have been used in building and strengthening an intelligent, real-time, responsive urban agenda. Authors are encouraged to critically evaluate their effect and effectiveness, including those negative ones. Chapter 26, contributed by Mark Stevenson and Avita Streatfield, reviews innovations in big data collection and analysis. Specific applications covered include in-vehicle telematics, Mobility-as-a-Service, on-demand transport, and electric micro-mobility. The authors believe that big data will enable cities to not only adapt to an unstable climate but also to digitalise their transport systems. It, therefore, will be crucial for planners and decision-makers to utilise big data to monitor the development of urban areas and determine priorities for resource allocation. Focusing on Mobility as a Service (MaaS), in Chapter 27, Xiaoyang Yu, Prithvi Bhat ­Beeramoole, Chaitrali Shirke, Paul Scott, and Alexander Paz discuss how it could be used as a single platform to provide travellers with access to (i) a broad range of transport options; (ii) trip information; and (iii) payment services, recommendations, and incentives. A case study using a stated preference for MaaS in Queensland is presented. Detailed statistical analysis reveals that price, access to public transport, rideshare, and carshare facilities are important attributes affecting MaaS preferences. Age and income levels are also important influencers. Most importantly, an overall reluctance was observed for MaaS uptake, suggesting MaaS is still a new idea with a tiny market presence in Australia. Another case of big data implementation is critically discussed in Chapter 28 by Mark ­Wilson, Travis Decaminada, Cornelius Darcy, and Eva Kassens-Noor. Specifically, these authors ask how the narrative of smart cities is created and disseminated. Analysing 4.7 million tweets containing #smartcity or #smartcities, they show that the major influencers for smart cities on Twitter are centrally placed or allied to the technology vendors and advisers that endorse smart cities and that a few influencers and bots account for a significant share of the tweets on the subject. These lead to the question about how an increasingly technology-based society learns and understands the forces that shape our daily life. Taking on this question, Daniel de O. Vasconcelos, in Chapter 29, discusses the new sociospatial dimensions of creativity by theorising the creative hybrid-places in the digital age. The author points out that there is a profound yet under-explored nexus between creativity, digital technologies, and the urban environment. To fill this gap, Vasconcelos argues that the recent digitisation of social practices has led to the rise of unbundled creativity, a form of creativity that is flexible, discontinuous, and a source of new subjectivities and embodiments. Its spatial reproduction is defined as creative hybrid-places, an assemblage of spaces integrated by digital technologies that support different tasks and requirements of creative production. Paying special attention to the virtual spaces, Chapters 30 and 31 illustrate the rise of augmented (AR) and virtual reality (VR) from different perspectives. Chapter 30, contributed by Jennifer Whyte and Dragana Nikolić, approaches AR and VR as useful technologies that could democratise design by making built environments more accessible. They detail progress on AR/ VR applications in the built environment and the impact of AR and VR on creativity and design across a range of design domains. This leads them to highlight that many existing frameworks and approaches are inadequate to support a playful and creative design inquiry. The authors hence call for relinquishing control in ways that make design more participatory.

A reflection on the interface  11 In Chapter 31, Peter Raisbeck and Michaela Prunotto conceptualise the application of AR and VR as part of a libidinal economy. Central to VR production is the desire to remake the real. But this (re)framing process, according to the authors, also seduces the passive adoption of false innovation for the sake of being spuriously ‘cutting edge’ rather than offering new political futures. Examining the adoptions of VR in architecture, construction, and planning, the authors note that VR and its creative imaginaries exist within an entangled libidinal ecology of desiring production. In this way and contrary to the view of Chapter 30, VR actually fosters control over the subjectivity of others through the design and manipulation of perception rather than producing a resistant politics. Shifting our attention to the construction discipline, Yanqing Fang and Shang Gao, in Chapter 32, offer a thorough literature review of lean construction in China. The authors focus on four topic areas in their content analysis: Lean construction theory and application, areas of Lean construction research, factors related to the influence of Lean construction, and an evaluation of the effect of Lean construction in China. Overall, Fang and Gao argue that the existing research on lean construction theory is somewhat lacking, the drivers of lean construction need to be strengthened, and the evaluation of lean construction effects needs to be deepened. In Chapter 33, Sarah Bell, Charlotte Johnson, Tse-Hui I, Kat Austen, and Gemma Moore provide an interesting case of bottom-up infrastructure design that supports healthy, sustainable, and resilient cities. A six-step design method and a set of associated tools are offered, including: setting aims, characterising communities, capturing requirements, analysing options, crafting solutions, and evaluation. The method was applied to the design of a rooftop garden on a socialhousing estate in London. The implementation process shows the potential for digital tools to further enable the intersection of community and technical knowledge in creative co-design of infrastructure and opportunities to incorporate more community creativity in formal design processes. Also focusing on the roles of agents in adopting and transforming technologies and spaces, Chapter 34, contributed by Ana Cristina Fachinelli, Suélen Bebber, Bianca Libardi, and Thais Zimmermann Suzin, discusses different strategies used to foster areas of innovation (AOIs) in three Brazilian cases of Porto Digital Technological Park in Recife, Sapiens Centre Creative District in Florianópolis, and the Fourth District in Porto Alegre. The authors find evidence of the different performances of the agents of the Triple Helix and that all agents are necessary to fulfil the phases for the transformation of the environments into a creative and innovative space. Julie Miao, Adiwan Fahlan Aritenang, and Nadia Gissma, in Chapter 35, also touch upon the different stakeholders involved in technology advancement and spatial transformation. They enter this discussion through the smart city discourse and the coworking spaces in particular. Using spatial network analysis, this chapter contributes to existing literature with a case study on Bandung, a creative and smart city in Indonesia. It demonstrates the spatial agglomeration tendency of coworking spaces as well as their diverse physical and social environments as a result of their size, financial strength, and history. The future development of coworking spaces in Indonesia, however, is facing the challenge of regulative ambiguity, hence calls for urgent policy action. Chapter 36, contributed by Giorgio Marfella, explores the relationship between design, technology, and creativity through the phenomenon of tall buildings. He argues that tall buildings are generated by the encounter of innovative building technologies and architectural ideas with the entrepreneurial forces that foresee the benefits of their economic exploitation. A historical account of skyscrapers in Melbourne’s Central Business District reveals a clear shift from owner-occupied properties to speculative projects, and highlights the importance of design in contributing to change while balancing public and private interests in high-rise developments.

12  J. T. Miao and T. Yigitcanlar It is clear that contributors in this section have paid attention not only to specific technologies and their applications but more so to the social and institutional environments and key agents that either enable or constrain their adoption and efficacy. Technologies and innovative productions, therefore, are the artefacts of creativity, whose spatial and social embeddedness requires contextualised interpretation and analysis. Section 5: Governance and planning

Chapters in this section examine governance opportunities and challenges at the interface ­between creativity and built environment. Leading voices from different regions are brought on board to provide a global review of practice in connecting creativity and built environment, and how communities and grassroot initiatives are responding to, and responded by, both planned and bottom-up approaches. Creativity and/or opportunism of the public sector in forging strategic partnerships are also distilled and analysed. Chapter 37, contributed by Paul Walker, starts this section with an interesting historical review of the birth and demise of the Multifunction Polis in Australia, which was proposed for Australia by the Japanese Minister for International Trade and Industry in 1987. After government investment reputed to be $100 million, the scheme was abandoned in 1997. Documental analysis reveals suspicion about the Japanese intentions and the different expectations on both sides. Interestingly, Walker noted the South Australian proposal won on the base of the priority it gave to urban design over propositions about industry and by its focus on environmental issues – both were advanced in its time and demonstrated bureaucratic creativity. Building upon Walker’s account but fast forward to Australia’s more recent creative city pursue, Emma Felton, in Chapter 38, discussed the unfolding of this planning logic and the broader social-economic consequences. Specific to Australia, Felton points out that current creative city thesis has overwhelmingly focused on inner-city precincts while overlooked activities occurring in the suburbs and outer suburbs. Moreover, the suburbs rather than the city, are typically the location of buildings which accommodate small-scale creative and craft type activities found in what have become known as makerspaces. Yet current arts and culture framework in Australia has left a gap in planning for these quasi-creative precincts. Elaborating this suburb creativity, Alan Pert and Nicholas Phelps, in Chapter 39, argue that the suburbs have always been locations for greater experimentation with regard to the built environment than is commonly recognised. Moreover, governments have at times themselves been important developers or, as regulators, instigators of experimentation in suburban housing. They present instances of suburbs by design in greater Melbourne, including Merchant Builders’ cluster housing anomalies, Boyd’s antidote to ugliness at Fountain Gate, Bent Architecture’s ‘Living Places’ cluster social housing and Habitat 21, and Delfin’s master planned community at Caroline Springs. All cases illustrate some of the patches of innovation and residential design beauty in what might otherwise be characterised as greater Melbourne’s suburban landscape. Shifting our attention to innovation districts, in Chapter 40, Joshua Drucker provides a useful review of this approach. He outlines what makes innovation districts different is their intentional grouping of multiple elements, which combine networking opportunities, entrepreneurial assistance, and other innovation support services. These districts package them together within a circumscribed and thickly clustered space, the physical features of which catalyse knowledge spillovers and networking opportunities while motivating and gratifying workers and entrepreneurs. Physical characteristics, in particular, are recognised as having a pivotal influence in an innovation district, and in an economic development strategy more broadly.

A reflection on the interface  13 Chapter 41, contributed by Carla Maria Kayanan, builds on above discussion by tracing the scholarship on tech spaces. While current literature emphasises the importance of a dense, walkable, amenity rich urban fabric as catalyst for the spontaneous synergistic interactions integral to innovation, the case of Dublin Docklands discussed in this chapter reveals that urban restructuring accommodating the desires of the tech sector creates new material, cultural, and social tensions. Critically, the author warns that without a deliberate change, the planning apparatus ends up either meeting the demands of the tech sector or finds that they do not have the means to achieve the type of comprehensive neighbourhood envisioned at the beginning. The phenomenon of large corporates flooding back to heritage buildings in the old district of Dublin also finds its replication in Paris. Jacob Thomas Simpson, in Chapter 42, presents empirical evidence on the prevalence of historic buildings among foreign firms in Paris Ile-de-France. In particular, Simpson examines the role of property market actors in shaping the quality of the built environment. Interestingly, interviews with actors involved in site selection revealed that historic buildings are regarded as ‘second best’ and less attractive compared to new built, even within the city centre, although creative industries and creative classes tend to appreciate the value of built heritage. His findings suggest that the types of investment taking place in historic Paris are framed by planning and preservation policies. In Chapter 43, Sha Liu and Kristian Ruming, echoing the writing of Rob McGauran in Chapter 21, further add to the debate on urban innovation and innovation districts from the perspective of universities and university incubators. Perceiving these incubators as physical, social, and educational spaces of creativity and innovation, Liu and Ruming examine how the Macquarie University incubator (Mqi) encapsulates the ideals of creativity and innovation, and how ideals of creativity and innovation have informed the planning, design, and construction of the Mqi. The physical design of Mqi, its social programs, and its educational missions have all worked together to support start-ups and build connections between the university and industries. Summarising discussions on cultural amenities and planning, Robert Kloosterman and ­Jochem de Vries in Chapter 44 present a holistic framework that distinguishes four types of cultural amenities. These include: small scale and caters to niche markets; small scale and caters to local mainstream audience; large scale with a niche orientation; and large scale that targets a mainstream audience. Both direct and indirect government interventions could be used to steer their development, as shown by the case of Amsterdam, but a governance perspective brings indirect interventions and partnerships to the fore. The final Chapter 45 in this section, contributed by Caitlin Morrissey and Michele Acuto, is a very useful remark on the making of ‘global city’. In particular, the authors, by reviewing how current research on, and policymaking for, global city-making has engaged with creativity, call for a broader ‘global urban’ interpretation of this domain. The chapter advocates for engaging with scholarship that has recast engagement with creativity from beyond the global north in a more cosmopolitan fashion. Creativity, from this point of view, is argued as not only a powerful asset and pervasive ‘ideas industry’ in circuits of global city-making but also a core component of the way we imagine the ‘global’ in cities. It is in itself an essential piece of the act of ‘worlding’ of urban processes, cities, and urbanisation, which allows us to expand the vocabulary and practice of global(ly engaged) city-making from a more inclusive point of view. Discussion and way forward Together, contributors in this Companion have initialised an intellectual journey of comprehending the reciprocal relations between creativity and our built environment, drawing insights from some of the most relevant disciplines, which, however, rarely talk to each other. Authors in

14  J. T. Miao and T. Yigitcanlar this Companion assemble and assess an array of plausible methodologies against their specific contexts in examining the multi-faceted interactions between the dynamic creativity and the inert built environment. By comparing and contrasting the thinking and practice behind some of the popular development strategies, this collection invites critical reflections of the validity of these strategies in different regional settings and the originality of the strategy being used. Explicitly, contributions in this Companion promote an appreciation of politics and power relations in multi-level, multi-agent, and devolving systems of government and governance and the normative dimensions of value judgements about the kinds of creativity we should be pursuing and the built environment we should be developing. Some common themes and open questions also emerge across the 45 chapters that call for further explorations. First of all, there is a need to further unpack the multi-dimensional and multi-scalar nature of creativity and the built environment. Several authors have pointed out the fuzzy definition and fluid boundary of creativity, and problematised its attachment to particular cities, places, and social classes. HaeRan Shin’s (Chapter 14) suggestion on adding history and memory to the play of creativity is a case in point. Who are creative, who can execute it, and who benefits from it are also some of the critical questions explicitly asked by Mark Wilson and colleagues (Chapter 28). One strong message emerged from our collection is that creativity is a distributed quality found across the public, the private, the third sector, as well as the populace. It can benefit but also impede economic and social well-being, as shown in Marcus Foth and co-authors’ writing on the dark side of creativity (Chapter 25). The meaning and content of the built environment are also scrutinised by several authors. City and its built environment, for example, is perceived as a normative world by Dan Eugen Ratiu (Chapter 10), and Daniel de O. Vasconcelos (Chapter 29) writes on the creative hybrid-places as the norm in a digital age. Analytically, Tommi ­Inkinen (Chapter 17) suggests the built environment’s material (architectural); social (interactive); and experienced (emotional) elements for a more comprehensive investigation. Second and related, the relationship between creativity and the built environment is variegated and mutable. On the one hand, it is arguably to say that creative clusters are more likely to be found in certain built environments, as summarised in Wood and colleageus’ MANA quality (Chapter 24), in Pert and Phelps’ examination of suburbs (Chapter 39), in Drucker’s surveying of innovation districts (Chapter 40), and in Kloosterman and de Vries’ distinguish between four types of cultural amenities (Chapter 44). Moreover, the quality of a built environment is evidenced to have an impact on regional and local innovation and creativity, as shown by Cerisola (Chapter 2) and Wu et al. (Chapter 3). Importantly, several authors have highlighted certain built elements that are important to innovation and creativity but have not attracted sufficient attention so far. These include, for example, affordable housing (see Chapters 4 and 21), innovation infrastructures (Chapter 6), makerspaces (Chapter 38), and university incubators (Chapter 43). On the other hand, the reciprocal relationship between creativity and the built environment is strongly shaped by the contexts and agents. It seems that informal businesses (Chapter 5) and third sectors (Chapters 11–13) are playing crucial roles in the global south, sometimes even filling the gaps left by formal institutions. Whereas in global north, planning regulations, developers, architects, financiers, and large corporates (see, e.g., Chapters 6, 8, 9, 22, 36, 41, and 42), often hold account for the creativity-built environment interface. Moreover, the cause effect between creativity and built environment could be positive or negative, depending on the rationales and relative powers of different stakeholders as well as how their different interests are negotiated and compromised (see Chapter 20). Third, there is a rich pool of methodological approaches emerging from this volume, both qualitatively and quantitively. Some of the most-used methods include literature review and

A reflection on the interface  15 content analysis (see, e.g., Chapters 19 and 32), secondary data and case studies (e.g., ­Chapters 7, 16, and 23), as well as primary data collected through interviews and surveys (e.g., Chapters 4 and 27). Other useful and innovative methodological tools are historical account (e.g., Chapter 37), spatial modelling (Chapter 3), geographic information system mapping (Chapter 24), social network analysis (Chapter 35), participatory planning (Chapter 33) and grounded theory (Chapter 17). There are also writings from the authors’ personal experience in observing, implementing, and/or managing an innovation ecosystem (see, e.g., Chapters 20, 21, and 33), which usefully bridge theoretical exploration with practical actions. There is, therefore, a further need of methodological conversation and evidence exchange among scholars interested in the broad theme of this Champion. Last but not least, almost all contributions have usefully reflected on the roles and implications of public interventions in the built environment to stimulate creative industries and revitalise local economy. It is noted that high-quality built environment is either an asset itself, or a marketing tool to attract investments, tourists, and consumptions. The role of the public sector is not only regulator but also negotiator, mediator, and even direct investor in this process. But two important chains on this feedback loop are arguably undermined so far. The first chain is the creativity within the public sector in imagining a different future for its localities and the creative toolkit they deploy to approach this. Miao’s writing (Chapter 6) on innovation infrastructure is a direct response to this gap, whereas Simpson’s (Chapter 42) finding of the unintentional clustering forced by heritage legislation provides indirect evidence on the role of planning. The other chain is the impact of a creative cluster or agents on local built forms. Evidence for this chain effect is more difficult to find given the inert nature of the built environment and the more scatted evidence of proactive transformation. Stories told by Mukhopadhyay (Chapter 11) on India’s street-based public art festivals and by Phelps and Wijaya (Chapter 5) on home as a locus of innovation have managed to shed some light on this regard. Further research, nonetheless, is needed to comprehend and nourish the creativity and built environment synergy. We believe in absence of rich literary resources on the interplay between creativity and the built environment, this Companion will serve as a key repository of relevant information, material, and knowledge to support research, policymaking, practice, and transferability of experiences to bridge the disconnect. Happy reading! Acknowledgment The leader author could like to thank the generous funding provided by the Australian Research Council Discovery Fellowship Grant (DE210100872) and the visiting scholar position offered by Harvard Asia Center in convening this volume. References Andersson, E. D., Andersson, E. A. and Mellander, C. (2011). Handbook of Creative Cities. Cheltenham, Edward Elgar. Baum, S., O’Connor, K. and Yigitcanlar, T. (2009). The implications of creative industries for regional outcomes. International Journal of Foresight and Innovation Policy, 5(1–3), 44–64. Baum, S., Yigitcanlar, T., Horton, S., Velibeyoglu, K. and Gleeson, B. (2007). The Role of Community and Lifestyle in the Making of a Knowledge City. Brisbane, Australia, Griffith University. Baycan, T. (2016). Sustainable City and Creativity. London, Routledge. Cerisola, S. (2019). Cultural Heritage, Creativity and Economic Development. Cheltenham, Edward Elgar. Chan, J. and Thomas, K. (2013). Handbook of Research on Creativity. Cheltenham, Edward Elgar.

16  J. T. Miao and T. Yigitcanlar de Dios, A. and Kong, L. (2020). Handbook on the Geographies of Creativity. Cheltenham, Edward Elgar. Durmaz, B., Platt, S. and Yigitcanlar, T. (2010). Creativity, culture tourism and place-making: Istanbul and London film industries. International Journal of Culture, Tourism and Hospitality Research, 4(3), 198–213. Florida, R. (2002). The Rise of the Creative Class. New York, Basic Books. Goldhagen, W. S. (2017). Welcome to Your World. New York, HarperCollins Publishers. Hall, P. (1998). Cities in Civilization. New York, Pantheon. Jacobs, J. (1961). The Death and Life of Great American Cities. New York, Random House. Jones, C. (2015). The Oxford Handbook of Creative Industries. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Krauss, G. and Sternberg, R. (2014). Handbook of Research on Entrepreneurship and Creativity. Cheltenham, Edward Elgar. Kropf, K. (2017). The Handbook of Urban Morphology. Chichester, Wiley. Landry, C. (2000). The Creative City: A Toolkit for Urban Innovators. Oxford, Earthscan. ——— (2019). Advanced Introduction to the Creative City. Cheltenham, Edward Elgar Publishing. Marshall, N. (2019). The Routledge Handbook of People and Place in the 21st Century City. London, Routledge. Miao, J. T., Benneworth, P. and Phelps, N. A. (2015). Making 21st Century Knowledge Complexes: Technopoles of the World 20 Years after. London, Routledge. Sergeeva, S. (2018). Making Sense of Innovation in the Built Environment. London, Routledge. Sternberg, R. (2019). The Cambridge Handbook of Creativity. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Tiwari, P. and Miao, J. T. (2022). A Research Agenda for Real Estate. Cheltenham, Edward Elgar. Tzonis, A. and Lefaivre, L. (2016). Times of Creative Destruction. London, Routledge. Yigitcanlar, T., Metaxiotis, K. and Carrillo, J. F. (2012). Building Prosperous Knowledge Cities. Cheltenham, Edward Elgar. Yigitcanlar, T., Velibeyoglu, K. and Baum, S. (2008). Creative Urban Regions: Harnessing Urban Technologies to Support Knowledge City Initiatives. Hersey, PA, IGI Global. Zukin, S. (1982). Loft Living: Culture and Capital in Urban Change. New Brunswick, Johns Hopkins University Press.

Section I

Economy and Productivity

2

Built cultural heritage and local development The mediating effect of multi-dimensional creativity Silvia Cerisola

Introduction This chapter aims at exploring local development through the relationship between built environment and creativity. The reasoning is conducted according to a particular approach, which focuses on specific perspectives on both elements. In fact, the peculiar built environment we have in mind is a ‘cultural’ one, i.e., built cultural heritage in terms of historical/architectonical beauties. On the other hand, the creativity we refer to is multi-dimensional, thus involving a combination of different talents, i.e., artistic, scientific, and economic. Both built environment (here in the form of built cultural heritage) and creativity may be fully considered as territorially rooted, which further justifies the territorial attitude characterising the present contribution. While in the case of the built environment the territorial foundations are quite explicit, it is worth mentioning here the reasons why we see creativity as a territorial feature. Although creativity has been in fact initially considered as an individual psychological characteristic (one among different ‘personality traits’), within this work we refer to the concept of creative environment, according to the idea that what is called ‘creative’ is never the result of individual action per se (Csikszentmihalyi 1988). Rather, social, cultural, historical, and physical contexts are important for individuals, as they provide the basis from which to create meanings (Nonaka et al. 2000; Landry 2011). In this sense, the creative environment that characterises a given area may be considered as determined by the endowment of different creative talents and by their particular combination. Overall, many different disciplines have investigated built cultural heritage (e.g., history, architecture, preservation, conservation, valorisation, and restoration) and creativity (e.g., psychology, sociology, neuroscience) before these elements were considered within the economic domain. All these approaches have informed the present work and have contributed to the wide and multidisciplinary conceptual and operational framework presented here.1 In more detail, the reasoning developed in the present contribution explores how the presence of built cultural heritage may inspire multi-dimensional creativity, which in turn favours local development through the generation of new and original ideas. To unfold the interpretation proposed, the chapter is structured as follows. After a literature review on the relationship between built cultural heritage, creativity, and local development, our operational definition of multi-dimensional creativity is conceptually and empirically explained. Subsequently, the results of a recent applied study on England are presented and interestingly qualitatively compared with those obtained by the author in earlier studies about Italy. Some final reflections conclude the work.

DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-3

20  S. Cerisola Built cultural heritage, creativity, and local development in the existing literature Built cultural heritage and local development

When we mention ‘built cultural heritage’, the immediate reference that comes to mind is immovable tangible cultural heritage, in terms of monuments, groups of buildings, and sites, which are of outstanding universal value from the historical, aesthetic, ethnological or anthropological point of view (UNESCO 1972). Immovable tangible cultural heritage also implicitly encompasses non-material meanings such as identity and experience (Carr 1994; ICOMOS 1964; Burra Charter 1999; Charter of Krakow 2000; Faro Convention 2005) since works of art and culture are influenced by the historical period during which they are created, functioning as physical supports of collective memory, sense of belonging and civic pride. Therefore, they can be considered a tangible expression of the history and culture of a given territory and community (Carta 1999; Spagnolo 2019), as well as identity and cohesion (Council of the European Union 2014; European Commission 2016). The role of the built cultural heritage in local and regional socioeconomic development has been emphasised in the last 20 years by many scholars and institutions.2 However, in most cases, an effective relationship between built cultural heritage and local economic development has been simply assumed, according to the idea that the presence of tangible cultural heritage has an automatically positive effect on economic development. In other cases, the only investigated transmission channel through which the presence of built cultural heritage is supposed to affect economic development is cultural tourism.3 Although undeniably significant, this mechanism risks to hide more complex and sophisticated processes that, instead, could well be at place. As Ashworth (2013) puts it, in fact, tangible cultural heritage in the form of a historic built environment is a place-bound major contributor to people’s identification with specific places and it becomes inextricably involved in local place images, identities, and economic geographies. In this sense, tangible heritage is frequently believed to perform many instrumental roles as a driver of (local) economic development (e.g., as a location factor for people and other sectors, as a contributor to environmental amenities and local identity, as a critical component of place image promotion and branding, and as a catalytic element in neighbourhood regeneration) (p. 367).4 According to this wider and more sophisticated perspective, some characteristics of societies such as creativity, sense of place, cultural landscape, social cohesion, and identity may play a relevant and important (although indirect) role within the relationship between built cultural heritage and the local socioeconomic development. Related to this, and conceptually drawing on some previous works (Cerisola 2019a, 2019b), the attempt here is to consider the inspirational role played by built cultural heritage5 on creativity, as will be thoroughly explained later. Creativity and local development

Initially studied within the psychology domain, creativity has relatively recently become a relevant research topic in economic and spatial fields due to its potential positive impact on local economic development. Its promising role has been indeed recognised by both scholars and institutions (see, for instance, UNCTAD 2008, 2010; European Commission 2010). In particular, creativity is seen as a central driver of growth and change, mainly through its role in innovation. Therefore, deepening our understanding of the mechanisms through which creativity may have a positive impact on economic performance becomes important also from a policy perspective.

Built cultural heritage and local development  21 However, defining and measuring creativity is not straightforward, essentially because the concept is fuzzy, intangible, and multi-dimensional. While there are many different existing definitions of creativity – substantially based either on its content, or on its outcome (product), or on its characteristics as a process (for a review, see Cerisola 2019a, Chapter 3) – the challenging measurement of this intangible and sophisticated concept is performed mainly through two approaches: the industry-based one and the occupational one. The industry-based approach focuses on the identification of ‘creative industries’ whose employment and value added are considered as proxies for the creativity of a given area.6 The existing literature on the relation between creativity and economic development based on creative industries highlights that these industries tend to cluster and to concentrate in big cities, characterised by high population density, agglomeration economies, positive externalities, and easy face-to-face interaction.7 Nevertheless, not much is available on the direct impact of creative industries on economic development. Among the existing studies, De Miguel-Molina et al. (2012) show an important correlation between creative industries and regional wealth, while Boix et al. (2013) provide evidence on the impact of creative services on regional wealth. More recently, Boix-Domenech and Soler-Marco (2017) found out that creative service industries increase regional labour productivity. The second existing approach to the measurement of creativity is the occupational one and in fact more empirical evidence on the link between creativity and development is available based on this perspective. The occupational approach is related to Florida’s (2002) work, where the author looked at ‘creative occupations’, identifying a so-called ‘creative class’. The idea that the presence of individuals working in creative jobs like sciences, education, culture, and arts favours local development has been remarked especially among policymakers. In this sense, a quite abundant literature is available, showing the positive contribution of the creative class on productivity (e.g., Florida et al. 2008; Marrocu and Paci 2012, 2013) and employment growth (e.g., Marlet and van Woerkens 2007; McGranahan and Wojan 2007; Boschma and Fritsch 2009), although in this last case Faggian et al. (2017) actually find out that creativity (measured à la Florida) does not appear as a dominant factor with respect to education and entrepreneurship. However, issues related to the causality direction of the investigated relationships are far from being solved and to be sure they still deserve particular attention, needing to be carefully considered also in the future related research. In addition, both approaches explained above present some limits and drawbacks.8 As for creative industries, in most cases, the whole production chain is considered (e.g., Howkins 2007; see Boix et al. 2013, on creating vs making and UNCTAD 2010, on value-chain analysis), without distinction between more or less design intensive activities. This also implies that even people who do not perform creative tasks within a creative industry are eventually considered, while people performing creative tasks outside the creative industries are not. Following this logic, the occupational approach overcomes the main problems of the industry-based one since it considers the specific tasks performed. Nevertheless, Florida’s creative class comes out to be very (too) wide, besides being strongly correlated with the group of more educated people, as highlighted by many scholars, who pointed out the difficulty in discriminating between the creative and the educational components (Glaeser 2005). Moreover, both methods are based on an ex-ante selection of creative sectors/occupations which is in fact quite discretionary. Theoretically drawing on some earlier studies by the author, the present chapter considers the multi-dimensional nature of creativity and proposes a conceptual and operational perspective to disentangle the complex relationship between built cultural heritage, creativity, and local growth, as will be illustrated in the rest of this work.

22  S. Cerisola Creativity as a mediator between built cultural heritage and local development

The existing literature has also mildly suggested that there is a relation between built cultural heritage and creativity. Back in 2005, the Faro Convention already stressed how these elements are linked, the promotion of cultural heritage protection being a crucial factor in the mutually supporting objectives of sustainable development and creativity. Later, the European Commission (2012, 2014) considered the contribution of cultural heritage through its direct and indirect economic potential, including the capacity to strengthen cultural and creative industries and to inspire creators and thinkers. Clarifying the channels through which the cultural (built heritage) and creative features of a local area can positively affect its economic development is therefore extremely important to design appropriate policies, able to trigger and push economic performance effectively, taking advantage of (and incentivising) the peculiar local cultural and creative environment. In more details, the present work puts together and reconciles the two strands of literature described in the previous sections, with the aim of highlighting the mediating function of creativity in linking built cultural heritage to local development. Our belief, in fact, is that built cultural heritage – through its aesthetical, beautifying, and identity value – can play an inspirational role for the generation of local creativity, which in turn works as a trigger of development. This mechanism was empirically – and successfully – evaluated at the local level in Italy and, more recently, in England NUTS3 regions (Cerisola 2022). The present chapter focuses on this last case, also providing some comparisons between the two situations, which show in fact some interesting and instructive differences. In order to properly get into the topic, the next section is devoted to explaining the perspective taken here to conceptually and operationally define (multi-dimensional) creativity at the local level. Multi-dimensional creativity: an operational definition Defining and measuring creativity is extremely difficult, essentially because the concept is blurred, abstract, and complex and because there are in fact distinct types of creativity. Thus, to address the topic, the present work identifies artistic, scientific, and economic creativities as the main modes in which local creativity can be expressed. Based on specific talents, each of them is shortly defined as follows. Artistic creativity involves imagination and capacity to generate original ideas and novel ways of interpreting the world, mainly expressed through text, sound, image, and performing arts (UNCTAD 2010, ch.1). Scientific creativity implies curiosity and willingness to experiment and make new connections in problem-solving (UNCTAD 2010, ch.1). This type of creativity finds its expression in engineering, or R&D and academic research in any field. Economic creativity is related to entrepreneurial skills, and it manifests itself through business ideas/practices/organisation, marketing, etc. (see also UNCTAD 2010, ch.1; Stolarick et al. 2011). In more detail, the present contribution is based on the conceptual idea that local creativity can be interpreted as ‘ideation based on talent of different types, i.e., stemming from different domains’. These different talents can fruitfully and synergistically interact, being simultaneously present, with different intensities and in different combinations, within a given territory, therefore characterising it. In this sense, our belief is that single creative types do not contribute

Built cultural heritage and local development  23 particularly to local development. Instead, the most breakthrough ideas are the result of the interaction of different creative talents stemming from different mental settings. In fact, their association is the way to approach the complexity of the world, thanks to the combination of artistic, scientific, and economic talents. The mental cross-fertilisation of talents (Andersson 1985), rather than creativity on its own, is, therefore, the driver of local development (Cerisola 2018). This definition, however, needs to be operationalised. Since the occupational approach to the measurement of creativity in fact overcomes some of the limits of the industrial approach (see previous section), the former is here considered as the starting point for quantifying artistic and scientific creativity, also trying to include some sectoral considerations. Therefore, artistic creativity is measured as the share of people performing creative tasks in artistic sectors and scientific creativity as the share of people performing creative tasks in scientific sectors over ­total employment.9 Finally, economic creativity is measured as trademark applications per capita, being trademarks an expression of new and original business ideas. Based on the conceptual and empirical definition of multi-dimensional local creativity presented above, the link between built cultural heritage and local development as mediated by multi-dimensional creativity was recently explored in England NUTS3 regions. The outcome is described in detail in what follows, as well as qualitatively compared with the case of Italy. The mediating role of territorial multi-dimensional creativity between built cultural heritage and local development in England: a comparison with Italy As mentioned in the previous section, the research work presented here made use of data geographically disaggregated at the NUTS3 level.10 Such level of spatial disaggregation can be considered particularly appropriate since it is quite detailed, but still allows to consider our territorial perspective because it involves a whole region characterised by specific tangible and intangible features (see the concept of territorial capital in OECD 2001; European Commission 2005; Camagni 2008, 2019). In particular, in a recent work on England, data on built cultural heritage were kindly provided by Historic England11 in terms of NUTS3 level information on the number of listed buildings.12 The absolute values were weighted by area to obtain an indicator representing the residents’ degree of exposure to built cultural heritage, and consequently – as mentioned before – also indirectly expressing some intangible aspects such as identity, collective memory, culture, and sense of belonging. The endowment of built cultural heritage in England is displayed in Figure 2.1, with the distinct categories being defined according to the quartiles of the distribution. As can be smoothly inferred from the map, the northern part of England – more remote and rural – is less endowed with built cultural heritage, which is, instead, clearly concentrated in the cities. Birmingham, Southampton, York, Manchester, Portsmouth, Bristol, Nottingham, Liverpool, and – above all – London evidently emerge from the map. A zoomed image of London is also provided to supply a more apparent contribution to the understanding of the great peculiarity of this city within the overall English context. This piece of information functioned as the starting point for the empirical analyses conducted by the author to explore the idea that the exposure to the physical presence of impressive, beautiful, and historical elements of built cultural heritage inspires territorial multi-dimensional creativity. Through this mechanism, it favours local development since creativity in turn pushes innovation by promoting the generation of new and original ideas. In order to empirically investigate the reasoning, measuring creativity as explained in the previous section, structural equation models were performed to test econometrically the overall relation.13

24  S. Cerisola

Figure 2.1  Listed buildings per square km in England and in London. Source: Author’s elaboration on data kindly provided by Historic England (listed buildings). Regions’ areas were retrieved from Eurostat.

As for the results, the presence of built cultural heritage seems to be effectively used in England, and in fact, it appears to have a positive direct impact on economic development (such outcome being possibly related to tourism). This is not the case in Italy, instead. On the other hand, the three creative talents do not appear to affect economic development when considered individually, and this is interestingly the case in both countries, which confirms the expectation that single types of creativity are not effective per se. For the sake of clarity and synthesis, the other – more sophisticated and more interesting – results are graphically displayed in Figure 2.2, where panel (a) represents England and panel (b) represents Italy. Bold links symbolise statistically significant relationships. As can be seen, the existence of abundant built cultural heritage is significantly related to economic creativity in the English case, while it is the reverse in Italy, where it comes out to be a determinant of artistic and scientific creativity. The hypothesis of a fruitful interaction between different creative talents is empirically investigated through the inclusion of interaction terms in the main econometric specification. In this case, the outcome demonstrates that while in England artistic and scientific creative talents do not appear to play any significant joint role in affecting economic development, when they are interacted with economic creativity it clearly emerges how the regions that are abundantly endowed with both economic creative talent – on the one hand – and with either scientific or artistic creativity – on the other – perform better in terms of economic development. The result is consistent with the case of Italy, where nevertheless also artistic and scientific creativity play a significantly positive synergistic role in favouring development. Thus, overall, in England, built cultural heritage seems to enhance economic development both directly and through its role in inspiring economic creativity, where the mechanism could

Built cultural heritage and local development  25

Figure 2.2 From built cultural heritage to development through multi-dimensional creativity. (a) England; (b) Italy. Source: Author’s elaboration based on Cerisola (2019a, 2019b, 2022).

be associated with the presence of built cultural heritage triggering related entrepreneurial and business ideas, which, in turn, do interact effectively with artistic and scientific creative talents. The process is conceptually similar in Italy but, in this case, it is linked to the positive effects of built cultural heritage on artistic and scientific types of creativity, which synergistically interact between themselves and also positively and smoothly interplay with economic creativity in favouring local development. Therefore, while in England, built cultural heritage seems to be more conducive to organisational and business skills, in Italy, the creative talents that come out to be stimulated by the presence of impressive tangible elements of culture are those stemming from more traditional sources (i.e., art and science). Overall, there are indeed significant differences between the two countries, and this is extremely interesting since it conveys the message that the mechanism (built cultural heritage → multi-dimensional creativity → development) is, in fact, at play, but it works differently in different cultural and institutional contexts. The peculiar features of the built cultural heritage present in an area may also affect the particular ways in which it inspires different creative talents. This outcome highlights once more the importance of local – mainly ­intangible – specific characteristics (territorial capital) in determining the development path of a given area.

26  S. Cerisola Moreover, the case of England led our attention towards the role played by a particularly big, vibrant, and developed metropolitan area, such as the one of London, where scientific and – even more so – artistic creative talents are concentrated, as well as built cultural heritage. The city of London can for sure be counted among the urban areas characterised by the ‘knowledge city paradigm’, implying a leading role in economic, social, and cultural development, beside the importance of intangible assets in their evolution. In this sense, cities may be considered as economic engines and cradles of creativity and innovation, which can also be promoted by the stimulating role of diversity (Yigitcanlar et al. 2012). In addition, knowledge cities are characterised by open attitudes towards the external world (cosmopolitan local identity), as well as by a vibrant cultural participation, all elements generating, boosting, and attracting talents, social vitality, and cultural heterogeneity (Landry and Bianchini 1995; Zukin 1995; Hall 1998; Scott 2000; UNESCO and World Bank 2021; Cerisola and Panzera 2022). Conclusions Stimulated by different disciplinary approaches on built cultural heritage, on creativity, and on their relationship, this chapter aimed at illustrating an unconventional transmission channel which implies the positive effect of built cultural heritage on local development through its inspirational role on territorial multi-dimensional creativity. The recently analysed case of ­England was explained, and it was also compared with some previous studies on Italy. Overall, built cultural heritage turned out to be a determinant of local development not only through the well-known touristic mechanism but also through a more sophisticated and intangible channel. This result corroborates the importance of proper conservation and valorisation of cultural heritage not only as an unproductive moral duty but also as an effective way of benefiting the well-being of an area. Therefore, it is fundamental to raise awareness on the importance of built environment characterised by the presence of cultural heritage as an effective tool for favouring economic performance through different channels, among which, significantly, local creativity. As usually happens, some challenges still need to be addressed and some interesting additional issues have emerged, deserving to be further dug into in future research. In particular, the (cultural) built environment-creativity nexus has been here highlighted through an inspirational mechanism. Nevertheless, such relationship has been considered as completely passive, without involving any direct interaction between built cultural heritage and residents. One might think, however, that the link could be even more effective if ‘activated’ through the cultural participation (engaged fruition) of local stakeholders. This type of transmission channel still requires more academic effort to be properly understood. In addition, a deeper investigation of the role of cities within this reasoning could be particularly interesting since they are suitable and important loci for a fruitful relationship between built cultural heritage and multi-dimensional creativity. However, some potential critical issues also need to be considered in this sense. Concentrating policies and efforts on innovative, creative, cultured, and educated big cities could lead to serious disparities, favouring growth in already strong areas to the detriment of weaker ones. Related to this, the productive relationship between a built environment characterised by cultural heritage and creativity could instead be used to strengthen more fragile areas and possibly to catch-up after the economic crisis generated by the COVID-19 pandemic. Finally, the application of our reasoning to other and different contexts could provide further insight into this interesting topic.

Built cultural heritage and local development  27 Notes 1 On the relevance of the interplay between different domains (conservation and economics in particular), the reader may refer to Boniotti and Cerisola (2022). 2 See, among others, Bowitz and Ibenholdt (2009); Ashworth (2013); European Commission, Directorate General for Research and Innovation (2015). 3 E.g., Herrero et al. (2006); Greffe (2009); Yang et al. (2010); Bonet (2011); Patuelli et al. (2013); Snowball (2013); Noonan and Rizzo (2017), Panzera et al. (2020). 4 Related reasonings can also be found in European Council (1999, 2014). 5 On the psychological relationship between patina, spontaneous fantasies, and place attachment the reader may also refer to Wells and Baldwin (2012) and Wells (2017). 6 Among the most renowned classifications of creative industries, UK-DCMS (1998, 2001); WIPO (2003); UNCTAD (2004, 2010); KEA (2006). 7 E.g., Hitters and Richards (2002); Scott (2005); Capone (2007); Freeman (2010); Power (2011); Lazzeretti et al. (2012); Boix et al. (2015). 8 For a more thorough discussion of this issue, the reader may refer to Cerisola (2019a, Chapter 3). In particular, the UK Department of Culture Media and Sport (DCMS 2015) through the concept of ‘creative intensity’ and the European Commission (2016) also proposed some more sophisticated measurement methods that aim to integrate the creative industries with the occupational perspectives to the quantification of creativity. 9 In more detail, and drawing also on UNCTAD (2010), artistic creativity is measured as the share of professional occupations in ‘artistically creative’ sectors (motion picture, video and television program production, sound recording, and music publishing activities; programming and broadcasting activities; creative, arts and entertainment activities; libraries, archives, museums, and other cultural activities) while scientific creativity is measured as the share of professional occupations in ‘scientifically creative’ sectors (computer programming, consultancy and related activities; architectural and engineering activities; technical testing and analysis; scientific research and development; advertising and market research; other professional, scientific, and technical activities). 10 The NUTS classification (nomenclature of territorial units for statistics) is a hierarchical system for dividing up the economic territory of the EU and the UK for the purpose of collecting, developing, and harmonising European regional statistics, providing socio-economic analyses of the regions, and framing EU regional policies. The NUTS3 level represents small regions for specific diagnoses (https:// ec.europa.eu/eurostat/web/nuts/background, accessed 12 May 2020). 11 https://historicengland.org.uk/. 12 Listed buildings are buildings of special architectural or historic interest (DCMS 2018, accessed 12 May 2022 at https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_ data/file/757054/Revised_Principles_of_Selection_2018.pdf). They may include great cathedrals, houses, but also more modest but still fascinating structures. 13 Structural equation modelling (SEM) allows to provide a comprehensive econometric model that shows the role of creativity as a mediator between built cultural heritage and economic development. The model is meant to provide the impact of the built cultural heritage on the different creative talents (artistic, scientific, and economic) and the subsequent effect of such (individual and interacted) creative talents on regional economic development (see also Cerisola 2019a, Ch. 7). Moreover, among other regressors, the specification controls for human capital (education) to avoid the problems highlighted before. For additional details on the model and specifications, the reader may refer to Cerisola (2019a), Cerisola (2019b), and Cerisola (2022).

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Built cultural heritage and local development  31 Wells, J. C. (2017), ‘How are old places different from new places? A psychological investigation of the correlation between patina, spontaneous fantasies, and place attachment’, International Journal of Heritage Studies, 23(5), 445–469. Wells, J. C. and E. D. Baldwin (2012), ‘Historic preservation, significance, and age value: A comparative phenomenology of historic Charleston and the nearby new-urbanist community of I’On’, Journal of Environmental Psychology, 32, 384–400. WIPO (2003), Guide on Surveying the Economic Contribution of the Copyright-Based Industries, ­Geneva: World Intellectual Property Organization. Yang, C., H. Lin and C. Han (2010), ‘Analysis of international tourist arrivals in China: the role of World Heritage Sites’, Tourism Management, 31, 827–837. Yigitcanlar, T., K. Metaxiotis and F. J. Carrillo (eds.). (2012), Building Prosperous Knowledge Cities – Policies, Plans and Metrics, Cheltenham: Edward Elgar. Zukin, S. (1995), The Cultures of Cities, Hoboken: Blackwell Publishing.

3

Impact of the built environment on the spatial heterogeneity of regional innovation productivity Evidence from the Pearl River Delta, China Wu Kangmin, Wang Yang, Zhang Hong’ou, Liu Yi, and Ye Yuyao

Introduction In the past few decades, the global economy has gradually shifted from the neoclassical industrial production paradigm to the knowledge-based innovation paradigm. Innovation, technology, and creativity have become integral to the mainstream discourse regarding economic development (Capello and Lenzi, 2016, Esmaeilpoorarabi et al., 2018b, Lv et al., 2019). In an ever-changing global environment, innovation productivity has been widely recognised as an important source of regional competitive advantage (Crossan and Apaydin, 2010, Capello, 2017, Chen et al., 2017). As a major manufacturing country, China has been trying to transform its role in the global production network from an assembler to a high value-added technologyintensive producer (Yang, 2014). The relationship between innovation and location has received substantial attention in research. The mechanism of innovation agglomeration and location choice involves two aspects: the production of knowledge and the choice of location of the innovation activities. Studies have identified two major mechanisms of innovation production and aggregation, namely, agglomeration and diversity (Adler et al., 2019, Zhang and Wu, 2019). The agglomeration paradigm emphasises the significant role of proximity, co-location, knowledge spillover, and agglomeration externalities in innovation (Marshall, 1890). More concepts, such as knowledge, cognitive, social, institutional, and organisational proximity (Boschma, 2005, Rammer et al., 2019), have further been proposed to explain the emergence of innovation. The diversity paradigm emphasises the impact of heterogeneity on innovation, highlighting the knowledge spillover and urban buzz are brought about by diversity (Capello and Lenzi, 2018). The impact of cultural or social diversity, racial diversity, sexual diversity, gender diversity, and other factors on the aggregation of creative class and RIP have been examined in literatures (Florida, 2004, Florida et al., 2008, Qian, 2013, Bereitschaft and Cammack, 2015, Ozgen et al., 2017, Wixe, 2018). In recent years, innovation research has begun to focus on the impact of place quality on high-quality labor agglomeration and innovation productivity. Place quality is the physical response of urban development to the new socio-economic paradigm. It focuses on knowledgebased and innovation-based urban development (Esmaeilpoorarabi et al., 2018a) and on the provision of a high-quality living environment for knowledge-based professionals to create a pool of talent and innovation, thereby creating a spatial differentiation of innovation capacity. This concept established a connection between innovation clusters and the urban environment on a finer-grained level (Winden et al., 2013, Esmaeilpoorarabi et al., 2018a, 2018b, 2018c). In past studies, the built environment factor has been incorporated into the discussion on innovation location. Accessibility (Ewing et al., 2016), urban amenity (Li et al., 2019), urban form DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-4

Impact of the built environment on spatial heterogeneity  33 (Hamidi and Zandiatashbar, 2018, Hamidi et al., 2019), mixed use, and urban density (Carlino et al., 2007) have been partly incorporated into the discussion framework of innovation location. (Li et al., 2019) found that urban amenities attract high-quality professionals, and hence, they significantly influence business location decisions and employment concentration. Hamidi et al. (2019) examined the relationship between urban compactness and start-ups and regional innovation capacity and found that compact development is more conducive to the development of local innovation capacity. (Esmaeilpoorarabi et al., 2018a) analysed the spatial structural characteristics of innovation districts by constructing a conceptual framework of place quality with five aspects comprising form, context, function, image, and ambience; the author concluded that an effective integration of innovation districts into cities and a regard for public needs are more likely to create a vibrant environment that attracts and retains talent and investment. (Zandiatashbar and Hamidi, 2018) found that transit service quality and walkability contribute toward forming a robust local knowledge economy through the influence of knowledge intensive business services and the creative class. (Wood and Dovey, 2015) found that a compact and diverse development model facilitates face-to-face contact with urban buzz, which significantly increases local innovation productivity (Spencer, 2015) empirically analysed the differences in distribution preference between creative and high-tech industries from the perspective of evolutionary economic geography and found that knowledge-intensive firms tend to located in high-density, mixed-use neighbourhoods of city centres. However, we also note that the built environment is often partially conceptualised as part of the location conditions and is incorporated as an independent factor into the analysis framework of agglomeration, diversity, or place quality in the literature on location and innovation. The literature on innovation location lacks systematic organisation and conceptualisation of the built environment. Compared to the mere concepts of accessibility and urban service facilities, the built environment is a broader concept including infrastructure conditions, local technological innovation environment, environmental health quality, and so on. Meanwhile, although existing regression studies reveal the relationship between built environment factors and innovation, these studies neglect the spatial dimension. Accordingly, the impact of the built environment on the spatial heterogeneity of regional innovation productivity remains underexplored. What is the relationship between the built environment and RIP? How strong is its impact on the spatial heterogeneity of RIP? Is there heterogeneity in the intensity of impact among the built environment factors? Although some studies have theoretically described these relationships, there is hardly any research that systematically conceptualises the built environment and obtains empirical evidence from the spatial dimension. This study aims to find out how the built environment affects the spatial heterogeneity of RIP. We chose the Pearl River Delta (PRD) in China as a case study and attempted to conceptualise the built environment systematically from the perspective of innovation. We went one step further with the regression analysis method by using Geodetector to measure the degree to which built environment factors impact the spatial heterogeneity of RIP. An innovation-based built environment Built environment: Concepts and indicators

The built environment comprises human-made physical environments, including various basic amenities (roads, urban amenities, recreational facilities, etc.) (Zhang and Yin, 2019). The concept of ‘built environment’ has different meanings at different scales (Yang and Zhou, 2019).

34  W. Kangmin, W. Yang, Z. Hong’ou, L.Yi, and Y. Yuyao Current scholars have widely examined the relationship among built environment characteristics and the obesity epidemic (Yang and Zhou, 2019, Zhang and Yin, 2019), body mass (Sun and Yin, 2018), health, and safety (Casares Blanco et al., 2019), and upward mobility (Hamidi and Ewing, 2015). Microscale research has shifted the research perspective to communities or an analysis of a specific site. This type of research is more concerned with the impact of a specific environmental field on the research subject, as it aims to understand the mechanism of the built environment through the analysis of specific urban design elements and spatial data (Spencer, 2015, Esmaeilpoorarabi et al., 2018a). Currently, the literature focuses on several aspects of the built environment, including diversity, accessibility, and density (Zhang and Yin, 2019). Through specific indicators, such as density, mixed land use, road network connectivity, and the distance from major transportation sites, the influence of the built environment has been studied elaborately in a substantial body of literature (Carlino et al., 2007, Hamidi et al., 2019, Rammer et al., 2019, Wu et al., 2019). Studies currently focus on built environment factors and issues, like health, obesity, traffic safety, and traffic congestion. There is not much research on the impact of the built environment on RIP. Innovation-based built environment

Based on the three paradigms of innovation and location research mentioned in the previous subsections, namely, agglomeration, diversity, and place quality, we summarise the literature on how the built environment may affect innovation productivity. First, the agglomeration effect may be one of the means by which the built environment affects RIP. Knowledge- and innovation-based, high-tech companies tend to agglomerate in the distribution (Scott, 2000, Wu et al., 2019). These innovation subjects can benefit from sharing high-quality human resources, integrative learning opportunities, or knowledge spillovers and thus, further their own innovation (Giuliano et al., 2019). In addition to innovation clusters, universities and governments of the triple-helix model outside these clusters are likely to contribute to the establishment of local innovation capacity. Therefore, as an important aspect of the built environment, the condition of the local innovation infrastructure is crucial to RIP. Its effects include not only the urban buzz brought about by the clusters but also the connection established between local clusters and a broader global flow of knowledge through the global pipeline (Bathelt et al., 2004). Second, the built environment may influence RIP through diversity. Beginning with (Jacobs, 1969), diversity has been seen as a characteristic of the city itself, and the knowledge spillover and urban buzz engendered by diversity play an important role in stimulating vitality and innovation in the city. In addition, with the introduction of such concepts as tolerance and creative class by Florida (2004), the contribution of tolerance, openness, and cultural or social diversity to regional economic development has been widely recognised in academia (Qian, 2013). Tolerance and diversity are closely intertwined with human capital and social productivity. Thus, from this point of view, a compact (Hamidi et al., 2019) and diversified built-environment development orientation may be conducive to the production of local knowledge and economic social capital and, in turn, the local innovation productivity. Third, the built environment may affect RIP through place quality. It can promote RIP through the agglomeration of innovative talents. It is observed that investment in the development, attraction, and retention of human capital has become a key issue in the knowledge economy (Esmaeilpoorarabi et al., 2018b). In this context, it must be noted that location and lifestyle are

Impact of the built environment on spatial heterogeneity  35 considered important factors in the development, attraction, and retention of knowledge workers (Storper and Scott, 2009). Global cities have also embraced the knowledge-based urban development strategy to stimulate the development of RIP and promote local economies. From this perspective, the cultivation of innovation and creativity-oriented place quality can also play a crucial role in the reconstruction of the built environment in the context of the global knowledge economy. Creating a high-quality, innovative, and creativity-oriented built environment would attract and agglomerate human capital, bringing more innovative activities and driving the development of local innovation productivity. Research design, data, and methodology Research design

This study aimed to verify the impact-level of built-environment factors on the spatial heterogeneity of RIP. Our research design is shown in Figure 3.1. We chose the PRD as our case study, and patent data to represent RIP. First, we built a patent-spatial database of the PRD based on geocoding technology. Second, we proposed a framework for an innovation-based built environment and construct the impact factor system. Third, we used negative binomial regression to verify the significance and the impact direction of the built-environment factors. Next, we verified the impact intensity of the significant impact factors with Geodetector. Finally, based on the model results, we discussed how the built environment shapes the spatial pattern of RIP. Innovation-based built environment: Framework and indicators

From the perspective of innovation, we tried to conceptualise the built environment more comprehensively and systematically, and developed a framework of an innovation-based built

Figure 3.1  Research design.

36  W. Kangmin, W. Yang, Z. Hong’ou, L.Yi, and Y. Yuyao

Figure 3.2  Framework of the innovation-based built environment.

environment (Figure 3.2). In this framework, we considered five aspects of an innovation-based built environment, namely, environmental health, daily interaction, mixed land use, commuting convenience, and technology atmosphere. Based on the case of the PRD, we selected the corresponding indicators to construct the impact factor index system (Table 3.1). Study area and data source

The PRD, located on the southeastern coast of China, is known as one of China’s three most developed urban agglomerations along with the Beijing-Tianjin-Hebei region and Yangtze River Delta. The PRD is composed of Guangzhou, Shenzhen, Foshan, Dongguan, Zhuhai, ­Zhongshan, Huizhou, Zhaoqing, and Jiangmen (Figure 3.3). The PRD has a total land area of 41,711 km2 and its resident population reached 59.1268 million in 2017. Since the late 1980s, there has been an influx of foreign capital into the PRD, which has rapidly promoted the industrialisation and urbanisation of the area. As the ‘world factory’, the rise of the PRD is conceptualised as an effective strategic coupling between cheap production factors and global production network (Yang, 2012, Yang, 2013, Ye et al., 2019). However, since 2005, the PRD’s development model has exhibited limitations due to the rise of production factors. In 2019, the central government announced the Development Plan for the GuangdongHong Kong-Macao Greater Bay Area. It demonstrates the PRD’s ambition to transform its economic development model and achieve ‘innovation-driven’ development. The 2017 patent data are obtained from the Patent Announcement Inquiry System of the State Intellectual Property Office of China, and include the patent name, application acceptance number, filing date, public announcement number, patent applicant, patent classification code, and detailed address information of the applicant (or organisation) (https://www.cnipa. gov.cn/). Using geocoding technology, we obtained the latitude and longitude of each patent’s address through the Baidu map API (https://map.baidu.com/). We established a spatial database of the PRD patterns through coordinate correction and data cleansing, which contains a total of 522,546 patent applications filed in the PRD in 2017 (Figure 3.4).

Table 3.1  Summary of variables Definition

Symbol

Dependent variable Innovation productivity

Density of generated patents (activities/km2)

Y

PM2.5 annual average detected value (microgram/m3) Density of start-up firms (activities/km2) Density of road network (m/km2) Mix of six main land-use types Density of major living facilities (coffee shop, convenience stores, supermarkets) (activities/km2)

HEA TEC COC LU INT

Per capita GDP (yuan (RMB)) % of population with high education (undergraduate and above) Average wage of urban residents (yuan (RMB))

Built environment Healthy environment Technology atmosphere Commuting convenience Mixed land use Daily interaction Urban fundamental Local economic condition High-quality workforce Wage

Expected direction

Min.

Max.

Mean

SD

0

1467.3300

11.1989

48.9699

− + + + +

23.7266 0 0 0 0

49.2698 20.6667 24.7206 1.6321 113.2220

35.3343 0.2668 2.8201 0.4849 4.4359

4.4526 0.9176 3.6332 0.4706 12.4928

GDP EDU

+ +

35921 0.0107

324165 0.2649

92539.1534 0.0450

54488.0337 0.0362

W

+

57394

128508

69873.5107

12443.4236

Impact of the built environment on spatial heterogeneity  37

Variables

38

W. Kangmin, W. Yang, Z. Hong’ou, L.Yi, and Y. Yuyao

Figure 3.3  The Pearl River Delta.

Figure 3.4  The spatial distribution of patents in the Pearl River Delta.

Impact of the built environment on spatial heterogeneity 39 The index system, with eight indicators and their data sources, are as follows. The healthy environment data were extracted from the PM2.5 monitoring data published by the Ministry of Environmental Protection of China (http://www.mee.gov.cn/). The technology atmosphere data were extracted from a list of start-up firms published by the Guangdong Science and Technology Department in 2017; we also used geocoding technology to obtain each firm’s latitude and longitude coordinates and established a spatial database of 12 516 start-up firms in the PRD in 2017. The mixed land use and daily interaction data were extracted from the PRD point of interest (POI) database, and the commuting convenience data were extracted from the Guangdong province road network vector database. The urban fundamental indicator data are statistical data; of these data, the high-quality workforce data were collected from 1% Population Sample Survey Data of Guangdong in 2015, and the local economic condition and wage data were extracted from the statistical yearbooks of each city. Analytical model setting

As shown in Table 3.1, the data used in the empirical work have a nesting structure. Both RIP and built environment factors are fine-point data, while the urban fundamental data are administrative scale statistics. Introducing the concept of spatial stratified heterogeneity, we used regression analysis to examine the impact direction of the built environment factors. Second, we obtained the impact intensity of built environment factors on the spatial heterogeneity of innovation productivity using the Geodetector technique. We divided the PRD into 5212 research units (3 km × 3 km) (Ye et al., 2019). Grid analysis avoids the effects of the distribution of natural elements, such as mountains and water bodies in administrative districts, preventing inaccuracies that emerge from the incorporation of these elements into the regression analysis. For urban fundamental data, we assigned the administrative districts data the specific grid. It is worth mentioning that since we calculated the impact intensity of the impact factors using the Geodetector technique, the scale inconsistencies of these variables will not introduce errors in the results. Results and analysis Spatial stratified heterogeneity of innovation productivity

We explored the spatial distribution characteristics of the PRD’s innovation productivity through a grid-based density analysis and a positive standard deviation value tail value test (Yu et al., 2015). According to the normal distribution law, mean ± σ covers about 68% of the data, and mean ± 2σ covers about 95%. We used a positive standard deviation value tail value test to draw the standard deviation line (sd line). Based on the sd line, we can visualise the high-value areas of nuclear density (Yu et al., 2015, Wu et al., 2016). The results are shown in Figure 3.5. It shows that the spatial distribution of the PRD’s innovation productivity is uneven, with the distribution of patents concentrated in a few areas. Positive standard deviation tail value test results (Table 3.2, Figure 3.5) show that 416,211 patents are concentrated within the spatial range covered by the 1 sd line, accounting for 79.65% of the total number of patents. The area of the 1 sd line is merely 16.24% of the PRD. The 5 sd line shows that innovation productivity peaks in Guangzhou and Shenzhen, which are also the two most developed cities in the nine PRD municipalities. This proves that the spatial distribution of the PRD’s innovation productivity is extremely uneven, with a few cities monopolising the spatial pattern.

40 W. Kangmin, W. Yang, Z. Hong’ou, L.Yi, and Y. Yuyao

Figure 3.5  The spatial heterogeneity of regional innovation productivity in the Pearl River Delta.

Impact of the built environment on spatial heterogeneity  41 Table 3.2  Results of positive standard deviation values tail values examination SD line

Area (km2)

Patent activities

Area proportion/%

Patent proportion/%

Count density/ (patents/km2)

PRD 1 sd line 2 sd line 3 sd line 4 sd line 5 sd line

41,711 6,775.77 3,743.8 2,146.23 1,312.57 863.51

522546 416211 326300 257780 194229 152728

100 16.24 8.98 5.15 3.15 2.07

100.00 79.65 62.44 49.33 37.17 29.23

12.53 61.43 87.16 120.11 147.98 176.87

Factors influencing the spatial heterogeneity of regional innovation productivity

We estimated the negative binomial model with Stata 12.0. Table 3.3 gives the results of the regression analysis. The results show that most variables are significant and with expected signs. We found that, of the five built environment factors in this study’s built environment conceptual framework, four factors are significant, namely, Healthy environment (HEA), Technology atmosphere (TEC), Commuting convenience (COC), and Mixed land use (LU). Of the urban fundamental factors, Local economic condition (GDP), High-quality workforce (EDU), and Wage (W) are all significant. Based on this result, we used the Geodetector technique to further explore the impact intensity of the built environment factors on the spatial differentiation of RIP. Categorical variables must be employed in the Geodetector technique. We used the Jenks natural breaks classification method to divide the seven significant impact factors into five levels (Wang et al., 2010, Wang et al., 2016), from high level to low level, based on their scores; their spatial distribution is shown in Figure 3.6. Based on the principle of the Geodetector technique, we calculated the impact level of the seven significant factors, as shown in Figure 3.7. The factors are sorted by impact level as follows: TEC > COC > EDU > W > LU > GDP > HEA. First, technology atmosphere was found to have a significant impact on the PRD’s regional innovation productivity. The negative binomial regression’s results show that it is significantly Table 3.3  Estimation results of negative binomial regression Variables

Coeff.

Robust SE

z

P

VIF

Healthy environment Technology atmosphere Commuting convenience Mixed land use Daily interaction Local economic condition High-quality workforce Wage Constant /lnalpha Alpha

0.0155* 0.4940*** 0.4490*** 2.0157*** −0.0080 0.0000*** 4.5199*** 0.0000*** −2.7069*** 0.8444 2.3266

0.0094 0.0871 0.0234 0.1072 0.0064 0.0000 1.6343 0.0000 0.4654 0.0362 0.0842

1.6500 5.6700 19.2100 18.8000 −1.2500 6.3400 2.7700 −2.6700 −5.8200

0.0990 0.0000 0.0000 0.0000 0.2130 0.0000 0.0060 0.0080 0.0000

1.3385 1.7917 5.2098 1.4491 4.2882 2.0208 2.8935 2.8192

Wald chi2(8) = 3068.69; Log pseudolikelihood = –9116.5051; Prob > chi2 = 0.0000 Notes: *is significant at the 0.1 level. **is significant at the 0.05. ***is significant at the 0.01.

42 W. Kangmin, W. Yang, Z. Hong’ou, L.Yi, and Y. Yuyao

Figure 3.6  (a–d) Map of seven factors in relation to regional innovation productivity in the Pearl River Delta.

Impact of the built environment on spatial heterogeneity  43

Figure 3.7  Power of impact factors guiding the spatial heterogeneity of innovation productivity.

positive with an impact intensity of 0.4419 in the Geodetector technique—the highest among all built environment factors. This result confirms that Marshallian specialisation externalities are conducive to the cultivation of RIP (Marshall, 1890). Figure 3.6c shows that the high-value areas of technology atmosphere are mainly around the east and west banks of the Pearl River, especially around the east bank. Two distinct peaks are formed in Guangzhou and Shenzhen, which are highly correlated with the spatial pattern of the PRD’s innovation productivity. The importance to innovation of a technology atmosphere and innovation actors is demonstrated in the literature on innovation systems (Albahari et al., 2018, Souzanchi Kashani and Roshani, 2019). Innovation actors and technology atmosphere have been conceptualised as important components of the regional innovation system (RIS) in the theoretical frameworks of RIS (Cooke et al., 1997), technological innovation systems (Bergek et al., 2015), sectoral innovation systems (Malerba, 2004), and triple helix (Souzanchi Kashani and Roshani, 2019). Our study also found that the spatial distribution of innovative actors has an important impact on RIP, and technology atmosphere is the most important built environment factor. Second, commuting convenience was found to be positively correlated with RIP, and its p-value was 0.2614, second only to technology atmosphere. Several studies have confirmed the impact of commuting and transportation conditions on business location and industrial distribution. Regardless of whether for the industrial sector (Ye et al., 2019) or high-tech sector (Wu et al., 2019), accessibility has always been an important factor when choosing a location. Our research also confirmed that places with better commuting and accessibility conditions may have higher innovation productivity. Third, mixed land use had a significant effect on RIP, with results showing a p-value of 0.0664. Mixed-use development and high-quality place making are considered conducive to facilitating social and cultural exchanges and, in turn, increasing the opportunities and effects of knowledge spillovers and generating stronger social capital (Hamidi and Zandiatashbar, 2018). Therefore, regions with more concentrated development can provide better social and human capital, which affects innovation productivity (Zheng, 2010). This is supported by our empirical evidence. Fourth, healthy environment was found to be positively correlated with RIP, with a p-value of 0.0286, which differs from our original hypothesis. In our framework, we assumed that environmental health conditions are an important consideration when knowledge workers choose their employment location, and they affect the flow of regional innovative talents and, consequently, the spatial pattern of RIP (Schoenberger and Walker, 2017). This assumption is not validated by

44  W. Kangmin, W. Yang, Z. Hong’ou, L.Yi, and Y. Yuyao our empirical study. This can be attributed to the development stage of the PRD and even China as a whole. At the regional level, currently, environmental health conditions have not been an important determinant of innovation productivity (Wu et al., 2019). For example, Beijing has some of the highest air pollution levels in China, but this factor has not stopped innovative talent across the country from moving into the capital city. Beijing even put forward a clear plan to control the size of its population strictly in the recent Beijing Master Plan (2016–2035) in 2017. In our empirical study, we found that healthy environment is positively correlated with innovation productivity. However, the results of the Geodetector technique show that it has a negligible impact on innovation productivity. Fifth, daily interaction was found to have no significant impact on the spatial differentiation of innovation capacity. In our hypothesis, urban amenities, comprising basic infrastructure and a place of exchanges, form an important part of place quality and influence the workplace selection decisions of skilled workers (Esmaeilpoorarabi et al., 2018c, Lee and Kim, 2019). Hence, we assumed that daily interaction would promote RIP. However, our empirical study shows that the impact of daily interaction on innovation productivity is not significant in the PRD. We believe that one possible cause is again related to the PRD’s development stage. Considered as the ‘world factory’, the PRD is still transitioning from a manufacturing-oriented stage to innovation-driven development, and hence, urban amenities and factors alike are yet to have a decisive effect on the flow of high-quality talent and RIP. Discussion and conclusions Based on the 2017 patent spatial database of the PRD, this study constructed a framework of innovation-based built environment. Using the negative binomial regression and the Geodetector technique, it demonstrated how the built environment affects the spatial differentiation of innovation from the perspective of spatial stratified heterogeneity. Our empirical study validated the existence of such an effect, along with some unique findings. First, the PRD’s innovation productivity appears to be highly aggregated, with 79.65% of the patents concentrating in 16.24% of the land area. Second, our study found that the built environment has a significant effect on the spatial ­differentiation of innovation productivity, and there is heterogeneity in the impact intensity of different factors. Among the factors, technology atmosphere has the highest level of impact. Such empirical results confirmed the existence of Marshallian cluster externalities and proved that developing the local innovation industry and local innovation atmosphere is the key to promoting innovation productivity. Commuting convenience and mixed land use also have a significant positive effect, indicating that the mixed-use development model and the improvement of infrastructure conditions remain important means of attracting innovation subjects and talent. Additionally, they facilitate the development of the local innovation productivity. Therefore, local governments should focus on upgrading infrastructure and mixed-use development models when designing policies to promote local innovation productivity. Third, in our framework, although we assumed that healthy environment and daily interaction exert negative and positive influences, thereby impacting innovation productivity, our empirical results show that healthy environment is positively correlated with innovation productivity but has a minor impact, while the effect of daily interaction is insignificant. This shows that environmental health conditions and place quality have not yet become decisive factors affecting the flow of highly skilled workers in the PRD’s current stage of development. Our empirical results show that this transformation has not been completed, and there is still a spatial mismatch between innovation productivity and place quality. Local governments should

Impact of the built environment on spatial heterogeneity  45 also recognise this problem and develop more comprehensive plans to balance the innovationoriented needs of the built environment. The empirical study is potentially of great importance to policymakers. Recognising the significant impact of the built environment and factor heterogeneity, the PRD local governments, when formulating local innovation development policies, should focus not only on introducing technology, building global and local connections, and constructing innovation networks but also on ensuring an innovation-oriented built environment configuration. This focus would help them to spearhead the expansion of innovation infrastructure and urban amenities, improve the local natural and living environment, and promote mixed-use development. A combination of policies that focus on both soft and hard environments would be able to drive the development of local innovation productivity and help the PRD to gain a head start in future transitional development. References Adler, P., Florida, R., King, K. & Mellander, C. (2019). The city and high-tech startups: The spatial organization of Schumpeterian entrepreneurship. Cities, 87, 121–130. doi: 10.1016/j.cities.2018.12.013. Albahari, A., Barge-Gil, A., Perez-Canto, S. & Modrego, A. (2018). The influence of science and technology park characteristics on firms’ innovation results. Papers in Regional Science, 97, 253–280. doi: 10. 1111/pirs.12253. Bathelt, H., Malmberg, A. & Maskell, P. (2004). Clusters and knowledge: Local buzz, global pipelines and the process of knowledge creation. Progress in Human Geography, 28, 31–56. doi: 10.1191/ 0309132504ph469oa. Bereitschaft, B. & Cammack, R. (2015). Neighborhood diversity and the creative class in Chicago. ­Applied Geography, 63, 166–183. doi: 10.1016/j.apgeog.2015.06.020. Bergek, A., Hekkert, M., Jacobsson, S., Markard, J., Sanden, B. & Truffer, B. (2015). Technological innovation systems in contexts: Conceptualizing contextual structures and interaction dynamics. Environmental Innovation and Societal Transitions, 16, 51–64. doi: 10.1016/j.eist.2015.07.003. Boschma, R. A. (2005). Proximity and innovation: A critical assessment. Regional Studies, 39, 61–74. doi: 10.1080/0034340052000320887. Capello, R. (2017). Towards a new conceptualization of innovation in space: Territorial patterns of innovation. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 41, 976–996. doi: 10.1111/1468-2427.12556. Capello, R. & Lenzi, C. (2016). Innovation modes and entrepreneurial behavioral characteristics in regional growth. Small Business Economics, 47, 875–893. doi: 10.1007/s11187-016-9741-x. Capello, R. & Lenzi, C. (2018). Regional innovation patterns from an evolutionary perspective. Regional Studies, 52, 159–171. doi: 10.1080/00343404.2017.1296943. Carlino, G. A., Chatterjee, S. & Hunt, R. M. (2007). Urban density and the rate of invention. Journal of Urban Economics, 61, 389–419. doi: 10.1016/j.jue.2006.08.003. Casares Blanco, J., Fernandez-Aracil, P. & Ortuno-Padilla, A. (2019). Built environment and tourism as road safety determinants in Benidorm (Spain). European Planning Studies, 27, 1314–1328. doi: 10. 1080/09654313.2019.1579784. Chen, X., Liu, Z. & Ma, C. (2017). Chinese innovation-driving factors: Regional structure, innovation effect, and economic development-empirical research based on panel data. Annals of Regional Science, 59, 43–68. doi: 10.1007/s00168-017-0818-5. Cooke, P., Uranga, M. G. & Etxebarria, G. (1997). Regional innovation systems: Institutional and organisational dimensions. Research Policy, 26, 475–491. doi: 10.1016/s0048-7333(97)00025-5. Crossan, M. M. & Apaydin, M. (2010). A multi-dimensional framework of organizational innovation: A systematic review of the literature. Journal of Management Studies, 47, 1154–1191. doi: 10. 1111/j.1467-6486.2009.00880.x. Esmaeilpoorarabi, N., Yigitcanlar, T. & Guaralda, M. (2018a). Place quality in innovation clusters: An empirical analysis of global best practices from Singapore, Helsinki, New York, and Sydney. Cities, 74, 156–168. doi: 10.1016/j.cities.2017.11.017.

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4

Housing, productivity and creativity Zhiyuan Li

Introduction Housing is a critical part of the built environment, not only as a location where people live but also in relation to self-identity, physical and emotional demands, and social connections. When reviewing the literature on housing, most studies focus on housing ownership, the housing market, housing in urban policy, and homelessness (Landvoigt et al., 2015; Rohe, 2017; Wu et al., 2019), in which housing affordability is a big concern which not only refers to the relationship between income and housing costs but also reflects the results of budgetary trade-offs for residents, including residential location choices, demand and access to infrastructures and amenities and even physical and emotional well-being. However, there is limited exploration of how housing affects productivity and creativity. The boom of knowledge economies has led many cities to transfer to knowledge-based development where housing is a critical attracting factor for the ‘creative class’ (Yigitcanlar et al., 2007, 2008). In China, the science park model has been used as a critical platform for the knowledge economy, attracting large numbers of knowledge workers. Science parks are concentrated with high-tech industries and similar knowledge-based economic activities with the features like knowledge sharing, innovation promotion, and the commercialisation of research outcomes (Benko, 2000; Macdonald & Deng, 2004; Miao, 2017; Miao et al., 2015; Nahm, 2000). As a consequence, if a huge number of knowledge-based economic activities concentrate in science parks, the housing prices may be pushed up by the ‘overheating’ or ‘diseconomies of agglomeration’, which may lead to housing issues among knowledge workers. Therefore, based on the gap in knowledge on the relationship between housing and productivity and creativity, and considering the potential harm to the productivity and creativity of knowledge workers, the critical human capital supporting the knowledge economy through providing innovative insights continuously (Hendarman & Tjakraatmadja, 2012), this study examines how housing characteristics including tenure types, over-crowding, commuting time and affordability influence knowledge workers’ working time, efficiency, innovation, and networking opportunities. Using the data collected from questionnaire surveys, a non-parametric test is adopted to examine the impact on the work of knowledge workers from differences in housing characteristics. Literature review Housing and health

Housing is one of the key social determinants in keeping mental health (Lund et al., 2018; WHO, 2014), and many studies established evidence that housing disadvantages including DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-5

Housing, productivity and creativity  49 tenure, financial insecurities, and physical characteristics are associated with worse mental health. Tenure links housing and mental health through the quality of dwellings and the ontological security provided (Bentley et al., 2016). Some studies believed that renters tend to have poorer mental health than homeowners (Gibson et al., 2011; Macintyre et al., 2003), but Baker et al. (2013) pointed out that this was caused by individual characteristics instead of causation of tenure. And Mason et al. (2013) thought that tenure was actually a response to housing affordability problems and they found that private renters were more likely to suffer from the negative mental health effects of unaffordable housing when compared to homebuyers. And housing affordability may even decrease the mental health of families. Bentley et al. (2011) investigated if these households with unaffordable issues would experience a deterioration in their mental health. The authors concluded that the mental health of low-to-moderate income households would deteriorate when they lived in housing that exceeded their affordability. Whereas households with higher income were not affected obviously. Furthermore, unaffordable housing stress may force people to live in housing with an unpleasant environment, which is a critical contributing factor in damaging mental health (Baker et al., 2016; Evans, 2003). Especially residing in informal housing or dormitories may cause additional stress by exposure to overcrowding, lack of indoor facilities, and unfriendly neighborhoods (Li & Liu, 2018). Crowded residences may result in noise and even disruption of sleep and daily routines (Conley, 2001; Evans, 2003), and poor physical housing quality may force residents to be exposed to noise thus affecting sleep (Bonnefoy, 2007). As a result, stress may be generated from concerns and fears of daily harassment. Housing and commute

The relationship between residential and employment location has been discussed since the 19th century by Chicago school who attributed the long commuting time or job-housing imbalance to the changing structure of the city, from monocentric to multicentric model (Burgess, 1925; Harris & Ullman, 1945; Hoyt, 1939). This transformation of urban structures is accompanied by suburbanisation and decentralisation of housing (Mills & De Ferranti, 1971; Moses & ­Williamson, 1967), as a result, employees have to commute increasingly long distances to their workplaces. Diseconomies of agglomeration in metropolitan areas are another factor contributing to long commuting time. Congestion costs are one of the major diseconomies of agglomeration in the urban area because the over-concentration of economic activities within the city leads to negative effects such as long commuting time and the reduction of land for housing (Tabuchi, 1998). However, the housing-job imbalance is widespread worldwide, especially in developing countries, where urbanisation is accompanied by a dramatic restructuring of social and spatial relations (Zhang et al., 2018). For low-income workers, the disadvantages of car and housing affordability forced them to settle down in areas far from their workplaces and highly depend on public transport (Gakenheimer, 1999). But the lack of public transport provision in distant suburbs exacerbates commuting challenges (Ahmed et al., 2008; Zhao & Li, 2016). From a microscopic perspective, some studies explored how individual and household characteristics affect residential choices, thus affecting commute. Rouwendal and Meijer (2001) revealed that residents in the Netherlands were willing to bear long commutes to trade for

50  Z. Li desirable housing attributes, especially housing type, location, and owner occupation. The research conducted in India by Manoj et al. (2015) disclosed that renters commuted longer than owners in urban areas, but the opposite was true in rural areas. And urban residents who travelled longer distances prefer to rent. An interesting finding recently by Xiao et al. (2021) pointed out that significant negative impacts on innovation due to longer commutes, which inspired the focus in this chapter on how housing location influences creativity. In addition, many studies believed that long commutes worsen mental health (Mauss et al., 2016; Milner et al., 2017), which may be a potential contributor to decreasing creativity. Housing and networking

Social networking is a web-connected with personal relationships consisting of interactions between individuals, namely social ties (Kleit & Carnegie, 2011; Pollack et al., 2014). Furthermore, the social network has been recognised as a critical channel for knowledge sharing and searching for employment opportunities (Perry-Smith & Mannucci, 2015), in which innovation may be promoted by knowledge transfer or knowledge spillovers caused by human mobility. However, housing provides a space for building connections with each other, and many studies have demonstrated the positive influence in enhancing social integration or homophily, and further expanding social networks. From a micro or personal point of view, Hipp and Perrin (2009) indicated that social homophily was promoted by interactions and proximity between residents. However, propinquity didn’t imply the existence of a social tie which was also influenced by social-economic class, life cycle, culture, and gender. From a broader perspective, Wong and Solomon (2002) built a framework for community integration based on a supportive housing community. They pointed out three scopes of community integration including physical integration, social integration, and psychological integration. Furthermore, social integration may have a significant impact on creating extensive social networks. Wilson (1987) pointed out that residents living in poor neighborhoods might lead to isolation from resources and opportunities which could drive them to find jobs because the poverty in neighborhoods usually meant weak ties in labor and employment networks. In contrast, a mixed-income community provides opportunities to build connections with different income groups, thus accessing more employment resources and building job networks (Joseph et al., 2007). However, housing tenure may also impact the formation of social networks. Some studies believes that homeowners tend to have more extensive community networks than tenants because they are more willing to participate in community activities such as joining organisations or contributing to problem-solving (Beekman et al., 2001; DiPasquale & Glaeser, 1999). Another study by Ziersch and Arthurson (2005) explored how public housing tenures impacted employment networks. The finding showed cooperating housing tenants had border networks and these networks were more likely to be used in employment compared to other types of tenants. The previous study inspires the reflection that housing will influence knowledge workers physically and mentally, and eventually suppress their productivity and creativity. Our primary objective in this chapter is to examine the impact of housing characteristics on knowledge workers’ work. This requires us taking into account the channel linking housing, productivity, and creativity; however, it is beyond the scope of this chapter. Further analysis of the physical and mental influences from housing should be explored in future research.

Housing, productivity and creativity  51 Method The methodology adopted by researchers in the study on housing is hybrid including both qualitative and quantitative methods. Studies on the relationship between housing and mental health were mainly quantitative. In psychosocial studies, quasi-experiment was widely adopted where data were collected from the perspective-controlled study (Egan et al., 2013; Kearns et al., 2011; Thomson et al., 2007). For example, Kearns et al. (2011) compared the changes in mental health between a control group and an intervention group after the latter moved into new homes two years later. Urbanists and socialists usually use surveys or interviews to collect quantitative data (Bentley et al., 2016; Desmond & Kimbro, 2015; Guite et al., 2006). A study by Desmond and Kimbro (2015) tracked mental health changes for five consecutive years by conventions of material hardship surveys. Econometric and statistical models are widely used in investigating how housing impacts commutes. Using open-source data, Blumenberg and Siddiq (2022) developed a spatial lag model to explore the relationship between job-housing fit and commuting distance. Similarly, Moos et al. (2018) built weighted multiple linear regression models that measured the relations between housing sustainability and commuting distance. Another study by Blumenberg and Siddiq (2022) utilised open-sourced survey data to calculate minimum commute distance and excess rate via an iterative algorithm developed by Boussauw et al. (2011) and used a non-parametric test to explore jobs-housing proximity differences between different areas and years. Case study is also a popular method. It was used by Ziersch and Arthurson (2005) to explore how housing tenure impacted social networks. The data was qualitative and collected through interviews with policymakers. Kim and Kim (2017) did a case study in a social housing community in Seoul. They collected data from questionnaires and interviews to investigate how the spatial configuration of housing impacted the social networks of the elderly. Similarly, Cho and Yoon (2019) established a negative binomial model based on quantitative data from a case study of a public housing project– HOPE VI to inspect how housing types influenced employment networks. In this chapter, a case study in Beijing was carried out in order to present the real-life housing and working situation of knowledge workers (Yin, 2018). The quantitative data was collected through a questionnaire survey in Beijing’s science park. Based on the literature review, this chapter identified four housing-related independent variables including (1) dwelling type, (2)  over-crowding, (3) affordability, and (4) commuting time. Dependent variables involve (1)  working time, (2) working efficiency, (3) innovation, and (4) networking opportunities, which were summarised from previous studies on knowledge workers’ productivity and creativity (Ramírez & Nembhard, 2004). For in-depth analysis, a non-parametric test was conducted by SPSS to explore the differences between dependent variables between different groups of independent variables. Case study Case selection

In this study, ZGC-SP (Zhongguancun SP) in Beijing was selected as a case study. Since the 1990s, Beijing was transforming from an industrial city to a knowledge-based city (Zhao, 2010). And so far, Beijing had developed into one of the top tech cities in the world with the most famous science park – ZGC-SP in China. According to a report of Top Tech Cities in

52  Z. Li

Figure 4.1  The location of Z-SP and sub-parks.

the World 2018 from Expert Market, a business resource company based in the United States, ­Zhongguancun had unseated San Francisco’s Silicon Valley as the top technology hub in the world.1 Based on data analysis including average salaries, available funding for early-stage businesses, and the living cost, the author Spohia Patsikas ranked Beijing as the top tech hub in the world, followed by Berlin (Germany) and San Francisco (USA). ZGC-SP had become one of the world’s most famous science parks after multiple stages of reform. Under the so-called ‘One District, Multiple Sub-parks’ strategy, Z-SP is seeking new space for expansion with 16 sub-parks already developed (see Figure 4.1) (Miao, 2017). Especially, these sub-parks provided this research with several alternative cases for collecting data for in-depth analysis. Study area and data collection

In order to minimise the heterogeneity caused by industrial differences, this chapter selected Software SP, Tus SP, and IT Industry Park which all focus on the IT industry as study areas (shown in Figure 4.2). A paper-based questionnaire survey was conducted face-to-face in these three sub-parks from May to September of 2021. The questionnaire design is shown in Table 4.1.

Housing, productivity and creativity  53

Figure 4.2  The location of the study area.

A total of 487 effective questionnaires were collected with 26.7% effective response rate. These questionnaires are comprised of 162 from Software SP, 155 from Tus SP and 170 from IT Industry Park. Results of descriptive analysis and nonparametric tests are presented below. Statistical analysis and results Descriptive analysis and variables coding

This chapter constructed four sets of independent variables to capture the housing characteristics of respondents in the questionnaire survey, including commuting time, dwelling type, overcrowding, and housing affordability. Four dependent variables were developed by asking respondents whether their working time, efficiency, innovation, or networking opportunities were negatively impacted by housing. The descriptive statistics of dependent and independent variables are shown in Table 4.2. In terms of independent variables, commuting time was measured by the time respondents spent on a one-way trip from home to work and coded as ordinal variables – 1 (0~30 mins), 2 (31~59 mins), and 3 (>60 mins) respectively. Dwelling type was captured by the ownership of property in which the respondents live (coded 1 if rent, coded 0 if owned). Over-crowding was defined as three members living in a house with less than two bedrooms, or four members Table 4.1  Questionnaire design Question type

Data collected

Single choice Fill-in-the blank Multiple choice

Dwelling type; housing affordability Commuting time; the number of bedrooms and roommates The impacts on work (working time, efficiency, innovation, and networking opportunities) from housing

54  Z. Li Table 4.2  Descriptive statistics of dependent and independent variables Variables names Independent variables

Frequency

Percentage

Rent

171

35.11%

Owned

316

64.89%

Over-crowded

375

77.00%

Not over-crowded

112

23.00%

0~30 mins

168

34.50%

31~59 mins

118

24.23%

More than 60 mins

201

41.27%

Affordable

359

73.72%

Moderately unaffordable

110

22.59%

18

3.70%

Working time

99

20.33%

Efficiency

64

13.14%

Innovation

27

5.54%

Networking opportunities

66

13.55%

Dwelling type Over-crowding Commuting time

Housing affordability

Seriously unaffordable Dependent variables

living in a house with less than three bedrooms, and so on (coded 1 if over-crowded, coded 0 if not over-crowded). Housing affordability was measured by the ratio of monthly housing costs (including rent and mortgage loans) to income and was rated into three categories: affordable (50%, coded 3). Regarding dependent variables, the individual variable was coded as ‘1’ if the answer was ‘yes’ by the respondent, otherwise ‘0’. Empirical finding

Two nonparametric tools (Mann-Whitney U Test and Kruskal-Wallis H Test) were adopted in this study because variables did not satisfy the normal distribution. Mann-Whitney U Test and Kruskal-Wallis H Test were applied to compare the differences between two independent groups and among more than two independent groups, respectively. Specifically, Mann-Whitney U Test was used to explore the differences of impacted work between different dwelling types and over-crowding status. Kruskal-Wallis H Test was adopted to explore the differences of impacted work among different commuting times and housing affordability, and the Mann-Whitney U Test was used in pair comparison to clarify the difference between specific groups. DWELLING TYPE

As Table 4.3 shows that although there are slight differences in the mean between respondents who were renting and owned a house in terms of working time, efficiency, innovation, and networking opportunities, Mann-Whitney U test results show that there are no statistical differences (p > 0.05), which implies that dwelling type has limited impacts on the work of knowledge workers.

Housing, productivity and creativity  55 Table 4.3  Statistics of dependent variables in different dwelling types and Mann-Whitney U test results Dependent variables

Dwelling types

Mean

N

Std.

Mann-Whitney U

Z

Asymp. sig.

Working time

Owned

0.19

171

0.391

26345.50

−0.65

0.515

Rent

0.21

316

0.409

Owned

0.11

171

0.315

26172.50

−0.97

0.330

Rent

0.14

316

0.350

Owned

0.04

171

0.185

26170.50

−1.44

0.149

Rent

0.07

316

0.249

Owned

0.14

171

0.348

26817.00

−0.22

0.819

Rent

0.13

316

0.340

Efficiency Innovation Networking opportunities

OVER-CROWDING

Similarly, Mann-Whitney U Test in Table 4.4 shows that there are no statistical differences between respondents living, or not, in over-crowded housing (p > 0.05). This indicates that overcrowding has no significant influence on knowledge workers’ working time, efficiency, innovation, and networking opportunities. COMMUTING TIME

The Kruskal-Wallis H Test in Table 4.5 indicates that there are statistically significant differences in how commuting times influence knowledge workers. It seems their working time, efficiency, and innovation have been impacted most significantly but less so for their networking opportunities. Mann-Whitney U Test was used for pairwise comparisons which are shown below. Table 4.4  Statistics of dependent variables in different over-crowding status and Mann-Whitney U test results Dependent variables

Over-crowding

Mean

N

Std.

Mann-Whitney U

Z

Asymp. sig.

Working time

Over-crowded

0.21

375

0.404

20813.00

−0.205

0.837

Not over-crowded

0.20

112

0.399

Over-crowded

0.14

375

0.346

20338.00

−0.866

0.387

Not over-crowded

0.11

112

0.311

Over-crowded

0.06

375

0.240

20462.00

−1.039

0.299

Not over-crowded

0.04

112

0.186

Over-crowded

0.14

375

0.346

20713.00

−0.370

0.711

Not over-crowded

0.13

112

0.332

Efficiency Innovation Networking opportunities

56  Z. Li Table 4.5  Statistics of dependent variables in different commuting time and Mann-Whitney U test results Dependent variables

Commuting time

Mean

N

Std.

Kruskal-Wallis H

df

Asymp. sig.

Working time

0~30 mins

0.05

168

0.226

45.988

2

0.000

31~59 mins

0.19

118

0.391

More than 60 mins

0.34

201

0.474

0~30 mins

0.05

168

0.226

13.602

2

0.001

31~59 mins

0.17

118

0.377

More than 60 mins

0.17

201

0.380

0~30 mins

0.02

168

0.133

6.908

2

0.032

31~59 mins

0.08

118

0.267

More than 60 mins

0.07

201

0.263

0~30 mins

0.12

168

0. 325

1.059

2

0.589

31~59 mins

0.13

118

0.335

More than 60 mins

0.15

201

0.362

Efficiency

Innovation

Networking opportunities

WORKING TIME

Table 4.6 shows that the p values of the comparisons between different commuting times are all less than 0.05. Relating to Table 4.5, it indicates that the longer the commute, the more likely that working time will be affected. EFFICIENCY

According to Tables 4.5 and 4.7, Mann-Whitney U Test shows that among the respondents whose efficiency is affected, the proportions of those with more than 60 mins commuting time Table 4.6  Mann-Whitney U test results of working time between different commuting time

More than 60 mins 31~59 mins 0~30 mins

0~30 mins

31~59 mins

0.000 0.000

0.004

More than 60 mins

Table 4.7  Mann-Whitney U test results of efficiency between different commuting time

More than 60 mins 31~59 mins 0~30 mins

0~30 mins

31~59 mins

0.000 0.001

0.916

More than 60 mins

Housing, productivity and creativity  57 Table 4.8  Mann-Whitney U test results of innovation between different commuting time

More than 60 mins 31~59 mins 0~30 mins

0~30 mins

31~59 mins

0.012 0.015

0.957

More than 60 mins

and 31~59 mins are significantly higher than those with 0~30 mins, while there is no statistical difference between those with commutes of 31~59 mins and more than 60 mins. This implies that once the commute is longer than 30 mins, the efficiency of knowledge workers is more likely to be influenced. INNOVATION

Similarly, results in Table 4.8 indicate that innovation of knowledge workers with a commute of more than 30 mins is more likely to be affected than those commuting 30 mins or less. HOUSING AFFORDABILITY

Table 4.9 shows that there are significant differences among respondents with different housing affordability in terms of networking opportunities. And Mann-Whitney U Test is used for pairwise comparisons.

Table 4.9  Statistics of dependent variables in different housing affordability and Mann-Whitney U test results Categories

Housing affordability

Mean

N

Std.

Kruskal-Wallis H

df

Asymp. sig.

Working time

Affordable

0.19

359

0.397

0.582

2

0.747

Moderately unaffordable

0.23

110

0.421

Seriously unaffordable

0.22

18

0.428

Affordable

0.13

359

0.335

0.253

2

0.881

Moderately unaffordable

0.14

110

0.345

Seriously unaffordable

0.17

18

0.383

Affordable

0.05

359

0.213

4.139

2

0.126

Moderately unaffordable

0.09

110

0.289

Seriously unaffordable

0.00

18

0.000

Affordable

0.12

359

0.325

7.097

2

0.029

Moderately unaffordable

0.15

110

0.363

Seriously unaffordable

0.33

18

0.485

Efficiency

Innovation

Networking opportunities

58  Z. Li NETWORKING OPPORTUNITIES

Seriously Unaffordable Moderately Unaffordable Affordable

Affordable

Moderately Unaffordable

0.009 0.340

0.068

Seriously Unaffordable

The p-value of the comparison between affordable and seriously unaffordable respondents is less than 0.05, which means that the mean of networking opportunities of seriously unaffordable respondents is significantly higher than those of affordable respondents (relating to table). Conclusion Current housing studies have indicated that housing problems may influence residents physically and psychologically, which may, in turn, contribute to knowledge workers’ low productivity and creativity. This study explores how housing, as a critical part of the built environment, influences the work-related performance of knowledge workers. It highlights the influences from housing characteristics, in particular tenure type, over-crowding, commuting time, and affordability on working time, efficiency, innovation, and networking opportunities. It is found that commuting time has significant influences on knowledge workers’ working time, efficiency, and innovation. The relationship between housing and commute found in the empirical test implies the significance of residential location to productivity and creativity. Previous studies emphasised the job-housing imbalance caused by affordability problems and the potential mental harm to residents. This study further illustrates this situation can further influence the creativity and productivity of knowledge workers. Knowledge workers’ networking opportunities are found to be impacted by housing affordability. This may be resulted from the potential that severe affordability issues have forced some knowledge workers to live out of where creative workforce agglomerates. And this also hints at the possibility that living in poorer neighborhoods may lead to isolation from social resources and opportunities (Wilson, 1987). Overall, this study provides empirical evidence that housing characteristics, especially commuting time and affordability, may affect knowledge workers’ productivity and creativity. It adds to the call for attention to affordability problems of knowledge workers working in science parks and housing provisions around them (Miao, 2017). Governments increasing the provision of affordable housing for knowledge workers near science parks could relieve the affordability problems of knowledge workers and boost their working performance as a consequence. Note 1 Source: Top Tech Cities in the World 2018 (https://www.expertmarket.com/focus/research/top-techcities).

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5

Community and business innovation in the Indonesian kampung cases from Semarang Nicholas A. Phelps and Holi B. Wijaya

Introduction The inventiveness of ordinary cities and resourcefulness of urban informality have been celebrated recently in influential accounts (Robinson, 2006; Roy, 2005). These accounts are bolstered by the coincidence of two stylised facts pertaining to global south cities – the predominance of physical informality and business informality. However, these accounts leave some of the detail and ambiguity of the connection between the physical form and mode of social organization of cities and the inventiveness or resourcefulness of their entrepreneurial communities under-investigated. The original research on which this chapter is based is drawn from a wider study of industry clusters across three Indonesian cities designed to examine the relationship between kampungs and business innovation undertaken in 2017, prior to the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic. Here we draw on findings from in-person surveys of 41 businesses in kampung (or villages) Bugangan, noted for its production of products made from recycled metals and plastics since the 1950s, and 38 businesses in kampung Siroto in which snack foods have been produced since the new Millennium. In this chapter, we draw on original survey evidence from these two contrasting kampungs or urban neighbourhoods in the city of Semarang, Indonesia, to consider some of the connections between urban and business informality and innovation. Kampung Bugangan, in an inner urban location, is an urban kampung involved with light industry. Kampung Siroto, at the edge of Semarang city, was a formerly rural and agrarian community but has become significantly more urbanised. The picture that emerges is not a simple one, but it is one that underlines and, at the same time, also qualifies the contribution of informally developed neighbourhoods to processes of business innovation in cities across the global south. In the following section of the chapter, we detail some of the connections between urban and business informality and their impact on business innovation – we concentrate on the role of the home and neighbourhood or kampung and the circular economy credentials of business informality as it intersects with urban informality. We then go on to present evidence from the city of Semarang. Semarang is not regarded as an especially entrepreneurial city within Indonesia, and it has not been designated a creative city in national government policy. Our findings are indicative of a weaker than expected association between urban and business informality as this affects business innovation but point to the implication of urban and business informality as part of the circular economy of cities across the global south. Urban informality and the ordinariness of innovation The predominance of urban informality and the predominance of business informality in global south cities has long been recognised. Doubtless, these twin realities have informed influential DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-6

Community and business innovation  63 accounts that have emphasised the overlooked inventiveness of ordinary cities and resourcefulness of urban informality (Robinson, 2006; Roy, 2005). Inventiveness and resourcefulness here refer to collective acts of social organisation and innovation rather than the creativity, invention, and innovation of individual businesses commonly emphasised in literature on the economics of entrepreneurship and innovation. Nevertheless, different disciplinary perspectives on the inventiveness of informality emphasise different things and could hardly be said to offer a consensus (Phelps, 2021). Moreover, the details of any connection there may be between the physical form of cities and the inventiveness or resourcefulness of their communities, on the one hand, and business innovation, on the other hand, is one that cannot be assumed for all neighbourhoods in individual cities let alone all cities across all global south nations. This is the case, not least, because business informality can be defined in two important but only partly coincidental ways. Business registration for tax purposes is one indication of the (in)formality of business. Another definition of informality based on the presence or absence of codified business practices is sometimes suggested as more appropriate to understanding the nature of businesses themselves and their implication in ‘relationships of production’ (Portes, 1983). The predominance of urban informality found across the global south tends to suggest that the home often doubles as a business location and one that may offer certain advantages. While autoconstruction rivals the state as a mode of housing production, it remains unclear to what extent and in what ways the qualities of the ‘sheltering home’ (Turner, 1976) extend to the establishment, maintenance, and performance of the business. It seems likely that the self-built home might shelter numerous business start-ups but may also be a hindrance to business expansion and development. Some industrial processes that local governments seek to regulate are incompatible with a home environment such that nationally significant industry clusters such as those involved with batik have largely relocated from urban environments as a result (Phelps and Wijaya, 2020). Especially difficult to square with the celebration of the inventiveness of the urban informality of ordinary cities are the empirical findings that indicate the constraints on small business growth (Phelps and Wijaya, 2020), patterns of innovation, business models and practices across the global south – including in Indonesia – that tend to be ones of survival (Altenburg and Meyer-Stamer, 1999; Phelps and Wijaya, 2020; Turner, 2003). These constraints on the mainly informal businesses found across cities of the global south are more in keeping with the changeless change of ‘involution’ that Geertz (1963) spoke of in connection with agriculture in Indonesia. The role of community (and the social capital associated with it) on business innovation appears especially ambiguous (Woolcock, 1998, 2001). The communities that individual households and businesses are located in may be an asset for business formation but also a constraint on the sorts of capital accumulation and innovation taken as the signature of Schumpeterian entrepreneurship across the global north. Indeed, Indonesian evidence suggests that exogenous stimuli associated with migrant entrepreneurs and government policy have been vital in some less inventive urban settings (Wijaya, Rudiarto and Kurniawati, 2020).1 Moreover, while many global south cities have grown in an organic fashion with the accretion of informally developed communities, the relationship of these to administrative units of urban governments is complex in its evolution as has been described elsewhere in the case of Indonesia (Rifai et al., 2022). Taking these contrasting viewpoints and considering the intersections of literature found from across geography, urban planning, economics, and development studies touching on informality and innovation suggests a variety of outcomes lying somewhere between Schumpeter

64  N. A. Phelps and H. B. Wijaya and Geertz (Phelps, 2021). On what terms, then, might we understand the inventiveness of urban informality? The inventiveness of urban informality may, in many instances, be an informal, uncodified, and unprotected act of creativity that precedes those more readily codified and (informally or formally) protected acts of innovation and invention that we commonly take note of as business innovation broadly defined. Here, the inventiveness of global south urban informality registers itself primarily in an array of alternative economy practices which are typically invisible, undervalued, and under-remunerated (Gibson-Graham, Cameron and Healy, 2013). Urban informality is a partial alternative to, and partially an underappreciated support for, mainstream capitalist enterprises. It should be little surprise, then, that the inventiveness of urban business informality also may announce itself in terms of its circular economy credentials. Here, alongside squatting and consolidating, Bhan (2019) highlights the salience of practices of repair found across the global south. For Bhan (2019: 646), ‘Repair is … foundational to incremental and autoconstructed materialities’. It may be distinct from upgrading (as something overly associated with improving the physical form of urban informality and therefore done to communities) and be focused on immediate needs (Bhan, 2019). Yet, curiously, circular economy principles have been relatively silent on urban land and land markets, leading to detailed questions of how urban informality is implicated with business informality in ways that may promote sustainability (Williams, 2019). Nevertheless, in its broader associations with notions of upgrading, the practice of repair also may be useful in highlighting some of the inventiveness and aspiration of individuals and communities that we are concerned with here. In what follows we examine empirically some of these considerations of the inventiveness of informal businesses in informal urban setting of the kampung or self-built urban village so widespread across Indonesian cities. The cases of kampung Bugangan and kampung Siroto, Semarang

As much as 70–80% of urban development in Indonesia is in the form of kampungs (Benjamin, Arifin and Sarjana, 1985). A similar proportion of all businesses in Indonesia are also informal (unregistered) (Charmes, 2017). These facts alone should alert us to the inventiveness of urban informality in Indonesia. However, more than a passing phenomenon of adjustment to an urban way of life, kampungs have endured as the bases for social harmony both as a state of being and a mode of action (Guinness, 1986), further signalling acts of inventiveness. Yet the scale of kampungs can vary dramatically. In the single city case of Bandung, Benjamin, Arifin and ­Sarjana (1985) found that kampungs varied in size from populations under 1,000 to over 300,000. At the upper end of this spectrum, we might speculate whether individual kampungs are large enough to generate Jacobs’s (1969) externalities of diversity and innovation rather than Marshallian externalities of specialisation and sterile divisions of labour. Here, we compare and contrast two kampung-based industry clusters in the port city of ­Semarang on the northern coast of Java in Indonesia. The two kampungs have different histories of development and relationships of the home and wider neighbourhood to those industries (Figure 5.1). Kampung Bugangan is a largely linear urban concentration of businesses specialised in the making of products from recycled metal and plastics (see Figure 5.2). It is a valuable case to examine in several respects. It has existed as an industry concentration since the 1950s, beginning with the production of children’s toys from used cans for sale at the ‘Dugderan’ annual

Community and business innovation  65

Figure 5.1  Map of Semarang and location of Kampung Bugangan and Kampung Siroto.

festival in Semarang City ahead of the fasting month of Ramadhan. Businesses are organised with an industry association and have since produced an evolving range of products including pots, pans, and plastic waste bins to more complex equipment such as gas stoves and spinning and mixing machines. It is an industry based largely, though not exclusively, on the recycling of materials in production processes. The kampung has in the past been supported by the Ministry

66  N. A. Phelps and H. B. Wijaya

Figure 5.2  Typical scene in Bugangan metal and plastic industry cluster. Source: The authors.

of Industry and a state-owned company PT Jasa Marga as a Metal Industry Center, though the urban planning authority in Semarang now regards its main recycling and production activities as incompatible with the residential location. One informed observer – the leader of the local businesses – suggested there were 63 street vendors based in Bugangan. However, not all of these were manufacturers and not all manufacturers selling in the kampung had their business premises there. We concentrated on a narrower group of metal and plastics products manufacturing businesses based in Bugangan. Team members were able to survey almost the entirety of metal and plastic products businesses located in Bugangan. In what follows, we report on data obtained from a questionnaire administered to 41 businesses in person in 2017 prior to COVID as well as the industry representative in Bugangan and local government officials. Our survey covered businesses that were formed in each decade from the 1960s to the present. Peri-urban kampung Siroto has become notable for a concentration of micro (one or two person) snack food enterprises (Figure 5.3). The industry cluster has some of its origins in the introduction of cassava cultivation and a modest scale of simple snack production from cassava. It has emerged only after 2000 as a more significant industry cluster with business ideas brought to Semarang and the kampung by two migrant female entrepreneurs, one of whom subsequently left the kampung (Wijaya et al., 2020). The kampung and its industry cluster are therefore also notable for the entrepreneurs being exclusively women with some men assisting with some specific aspects of production and packaging. The technological barriers to entry are low in this industry though equipment such as ovens, mixers, blenders, and rice cookers are now shared among the entrepreneurs. The peri-urban location of the kampung allows for some sourcing of local ingredients. However, agricultural production of cassava and milk used in the snack foods produced in the kampung have decreased significantly due to residential development. Unlike Bugangan, there are few outward signs of the businesses operating out of the houses located there.

Community and business innovation  67

Figure 5.3  Snack food production in kampung Siroto. Source: The authors.

Home, community and business innovation The creativity or inventiveness of businesses is related both to the informality of businesses themselves and the informal context in which those businesses are embedded. The informality of businesses extends beyond their status as unregistered for tax purposes into the ‘relations of production’. The urban context in which those businesses are located can also be described as informal given that individual premises and entire neighbourhoods have been self-built. Informality and innovation at home?

For the purposes of official statistics, business informality is defined in terms of whether a business is registered for tax purposes or not. Using this definition of formal registration, in some contrast to national level figures that suggest as much as 80% of businesses in Indonesia are unregistered, a minority – 16 of the 41 (39%) businesses surveyed in Bugangan – were not registered. The proportion in the snack industry cluster in kampung Siroto was even lower, with 11 of 38 (29%) being unregistered businesses. Immediately, this underlines some of the difficulties of generalising about the inventiveness of informality. In order to explore how informality defined in terms of a lack of registration for tax purposes intersected with informality defined in terms of the relations of production (Portes, 1983), we asked business owners to indicate whether and which of a pre-defined list of business processes or practices were documented. The findings indicate that the majority of the businesses in ­Bugangan (22 of 41 surveyed) could be said to be informal in their business processes. In the case of Siroto, all of the producers had some formalisation of their business practices. This

68  N. A. Phelps and H. B. Wijaya appears to be the result of being suppliers to a variety of vendors and to local government as part of procurement policies designed to underpin local businesses and the taking receipt of foodstuffs and packaging from suppliers. In the case of Bugangan, when combining these two definitions of business informality, we find that there are notable proportions of formal businesses having undocumented business processes (29%) and vice versa (17%). Indeed, the majority (52%) of registered businesses still had undocumented business processes. 22% of businesses surveyed were both unregistered and without documentation of their business processes. In the case of the Siroto snack food cluster, no businesses were both unregistered and without some element of codification of their business practices. Established and reputable industries in Indonesia – such as batik – remain home-based despite production processes that are incompatible with homelife from the perspective of the health of family members. They are domesticated for a number of reasons (Brenner, 2012). The snack food industry of Siroto is similarly domesticated with 94% of businesses being based in homes which is to be expected given both the small scale of production and the greater compatibility of food materials and snack production processes with a home environment. However, even in the case of the metal and plastics recycling cluster of Bugangan, 36 of the 41 (88%) businesses surveyed had their main business premises at the home of the owner. The figure here is high given the type of products being made, the potential incompatibility of the processes needed to recycle metal and plastics with home life – and we return to this point in the coda of this chapter. The majority (75.6%) of businesses in Bugangan had introduced an innovation of some sort, but in Siroto, innovative businesses were in a minority (49%). Putting these figures together with those on the location of business premises, we can examine whether the home environment is associated with innovation. In broad terms, we can say that urban informality is associated with innovation and that, in the case of some industries such as the metal and plastics recycling cluster of Bugangan, authorities would do well to consider how the formalisation of business, especially in terms of its location might impact on business innovation. 66% of the businesses in Bugangan had innovated and were also based at the home of their owners (the corresponding figure for the Siroto snack food cluster being 43% of businesses). The innovations introduced by businesses surveyed were diverse. Seemingly, both business and urban informality have presented constraints to process innovations in the case of both kampung industry clusters since only one producer in Bugangan and none in Siroto had identified production processes as the focus of their innovative efforts. Equipment readily available such as cookers and blenders have been in use for some time in the case of the Siroto snack food industry. Instead, 46% of the metal and plastics recycling businesses in kampung Bugangan had introduced new products or product variants. The corresponding figure for the Siroto snack food cluster was lower at 28%, but when those businesses innovating to improve product quality are included, the figure rises to 45%. A quarter or more businesses in both kampungs also had innovated in the marketing of their products. Our fieldwork indicated that in both kampung-based industries product innovation has come notably at the request of customers. Informality and innovation in the kampung?

We asked respondents to select the three most important advantages of their business location from a pre-defined list that included proximity to the city centre; proximity to market/customers; proximity to suppliers; proximity to other similar businesses; proximity to transportation; active support by local government; active support by community; and others. The advantages of the home emerge, not as those of the specifics of the premises concerned, but as a nexus of business relationships. In this respect, the advantages of business and urban informality come face to face

Community and business innovation  69 with and underline the thought that urban informality needs to be defined less in physical terms and more in terms of the networks of relations centred on particular communities (Roy, 2005). These are a familiar mix which the majority of respondents identify as proximity to customers, suppliers, transportation, then more specifically proximity to other similar companies (19 of 41), and reputation being mentioned specifically by 2 of 41. The disadvantages identified by surveyed businesses were also selected from a pre-defined list that was the mirror opposite of the advantages noted above and produced more varied responses. It is notable that no businesses in Bugangan cited government support from a predefined list of advantages, but 14 of 41 mentioned a lack of support from the government as a disadvantage. No businesses in Bugangan mentioned support from the community as an advantage which tends to undermine slightly the thought above – of the advantages of urban informality in terms of networks of relations – with 2 of 41 mentioning it as a disadvantage while the 5 businesses of 41 that mentioned competition from other businesses also were likely referring to competition within the industry cluster. The nature of the industry and its relationship to the wider residential neighbourhood beyond the main commercial strip may account for this less than positive appraisal of the role of community and social bonds in industry performance. It certainly is a reminder of the ambiguous contribution that community makes to industry performance across the global south (Woolcock, 1998). We also asked businesses whether their innovation had benefits for the neighbourhood or kampung, asking them to select from a pre-defined list including more affordable prices to local customers; the sharing of profits; improvements in the environment; faster services; increased opportunities for business collaboration; increased togetherness of the community; improved reputation of the kampung; increased knowledge capacity of the kampung; and others. In the case of the metal and plastics recycling industry cluster of Bugangan, 18 of the 41 (43.9%) businesses surveyed indicated that there were also benefits of their innovation to the kampung. In Siroto, virtually all (37 of 38) indicated there were benefits to the kampung. Multiple responses were obtained for a pre-defined list of benefits as well as an option to specify other benefits. In both kampungs, respondents saw broad-based – reputational, environmental, ‘togetherness’ – benefits of their innovations to their kampung. While profit sharing is a notable feature of kampung-based enterprises in Indonesia and might be regarded as detracting from business competitiveness and capital accumulation and even the collective organisation of industry (Phelps and Wijaya, 2016), it is more than matched by benefits of business collaboration in the case of both kampungs. The development of the knowledge capacity appears as a minor benefit to communities in Bugangan and Siroto from the innovative practices of entrepreneurs there. The circular economy credentials of kampung-based industry

The informal business sector is pervasive across global south cities and is implicated with practices of repair (Bhan, 2019). However, in the open and complex urban systems that are cities, the sustainability of business is more complex than the use of recycled materials. The energy used in sourcing of those materials and the movement of finished products to market may offset the energy saved by recycling. Businesses in the industry concentration in Bugangan are known for their use of recycled materials such as various metals and plastics but also the salvage and reconditioning of old mechanical and motor parts. On the face of it, this reputation provides some evidence of the role that some urban communities may play in enhancing the circularity of city economies across the global south. Our survey suggested that the majority (63%) of businesses in Bugangan did indeed use recycled materials. Those that did generally made very high use of them in their

70  N. A. Phelps and H. B. Wijaya products with the unweighted average proportion of materials used reaching 72% across the 26 businesses involved. In the snack food industries of Siroto, as one might expect given the nature of the product, only a couple (5.2%) of businesses noted that they used recycled materials such as paper for packaging the food items. At 12.5%, the unweighted average percentage of inputs by value was much lower than for the metal and plastics recycling industry of Bugangan. Respondents were also asked to identify their three main suppliers and their locations. The peri-urban location of Siroto meant that not a single business cited a Semarang city supplier among their three main suppliers. Nearby rural Ungaran and its produce market was one highly cited location for the main suppliers to snack food producers. The figures hear highlight some of the difficulties of defining circularity on the basis of jurisdiction and the need to define the circularity of urban economies in ways that include urban hinterlands. Entrepreneurs in Bugangan saw their role as providing an alternative to new and generally cheaper versions of products than would otherwise be available to consumers. In many cities across Indonesia such local alternatives are vital to the needs and continued presence of the poorest – frequently informally settled – populations but also their leisure pursuits. However, the role of the industry concentration in Bugangan in this respect is less clear than it might at first seem. As we saw in the discussion above, lower prices for local people were not the main advantage of business innovation accruing to the local community. In the Siroto snack food cluster, a quarter (10 of 38, 26.3%) of businesses saw lower prices as one advantage of their innovations to their local community. Conclusion Our study of business innovation in Semarang confirmed a certain innovative vibrancy of businesses in kampungs. In this way, innovation of some sort is a notable feature both of informal businesses and the informal urban context – the kampung – in which they have formed and developed. These two facets of informality come together across urban Indonesia as they doubtless do elsewhere across cities of the global south. We were also able to explore the implication of urban and business informality when considering the relationship of businesses and their innovations to the home and their neighbourhood or kampung. Our survey provided clear evidence of the centrality of the home to business formation and development including innovation. Future research might explore in more detail the nuances of how the physical features of, and inter-personal relationships centred on, the home nurture innovation. Informal business is typically well-located to access raw materials and customers at the kampung scale, though the vaunted relationship to community as an input to business performance is extremely modest even if some of the benefits of business innovation appear to accrue to the communities in which they are embedded. As a result of this last feature, business, and urban informality make their contributions to the circularity of the local economy. The Bugangan metal and plastics recycling cluster was a prime case in point, but the Siroto snack food cluster also highlighted the good use of local sources of inputs while at the same time being revealing of the need to consider the hinterlands of global south cities in the daily and seasonal rhythms by which business survives and innovates. Coda Our research was undertaken two years before the COVID-19 outbreak. For the Bugangan metal and plastics recycling cluster much has changed since that time. This is partly a result of

Community and business innovation  71 COVID but more particularly the government regulation of land uses. The collection of businesses located in Bugangan is now exclusively focused on the sale of items rather than recycling processes and the manufacture of items. Manufacturing processes have migrated to other locations including the Wijayakusuma industrial estate primarily resulting from increased government regulations on land and building uses in Bugangan and eviction due to the improvement of the riverside to which some of the businesses were adjacent. Approximately five metal and plastics processing businesses remained by December 2022. The Siroto snack food cluster has not been affected in the same way by government regulation. And while some reductions in orders for face-to-face meetings were experienced, overall, orders have increased. Coinciding with people’s increased working from home, the number of businesses in the Siroto snack food industry cluster has actually increased. There are now 50 snack food enterprises operating from Siroto with 40 being members of an organised group. Acknowledgement We gratefully acknowledge the support for this research from the British Academy (Grant no.  GF100064). Note 1 Our case study city of Semarang could be considered to be one such case when compared to for example Bandung and Surakarta.

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72  N. A. Phelps and H. B. Wijaya Rifai, A., Asterina, N., Hidayani, R. and Phelps, N. A. (2022) ‘The creativity of the kampung’, in S.  Roitman and D. Rukmana (eds), Routledge Handbook of urban Indonesia. Abingdon, Routledge, 248–260. Robinson, J. (2006) Ordinary cities: Between modernity and development. Abingdon: Routledge. Roy, A. (2005) Urban informality: Toward an epistemology of planning. Journal of the American Planning Association, 71(2), 147–158. Turner, J. F. C. (1976) Housing by people: Towards autonomy in building environments. London: Marion Boyars. Turner, S. (2003) Indonesia’s small entrepreneurs: Trading on the margins. London: Routledge-Curzon. Wijaya, H. B., Rudiarto, I. and Kurniawati, H. (2020) ‘Migrant entrepreneurs in industry cluster formation and innovation: The case of Semarang, Central Java, Indonesia’, in C. Y. Liu (ed.), Immigrant entrepreneurship and urban development: A comparative perspective. Berlin, Springer. Williams, J. (2019) Circular cities. Urban Studies, 56(13), 2746–2762. Woolcock, M. (2001) Microenterprise and social capital: A framework for theory research and policy. Journal of Socio-Economics, 30, 193–198. Woolcock, M. (1998) Social capital and economic development: Toward a theoretical synthesis and policy framework. Theory and Society, 27, 151–208.

6

The infrastructures of innovation districts Happy coincidence or creative collective curation? Julie T. Miao

Introduction Innovation districts (IDs) have attained a prominent place in academic and policy discourse with regard to the (re)making of knowledge complexes fit for the 21st century (Miao et al. 2015). In promoting the idea of IDs, the Brookings Institute (Katz and Wagner 2014) identified a dozen examples ‘where leading-edge anchor institutions and companies cluster and connect with start-ups, business incubators and accelerators’. These IDs often locate in physically compact, transit-accessible, technically wired and mixed-use urban neighborhoods, following one of three development models, including the ‘anchor plus’, the ‘re-imagined urban areas’, and the ‘urbanised science park’. The South Boston Waterfront, later named as the Seaport Innovation District, featured strongly in this widely circulated piece with two out of the five images in the Brookings Institute report taken from this up-and-coming 21st-century innovation highland. Among these exemplary cases, Brookings identified three assets as crucial features shared by these IDs. These include the economic assets, i.e., the firms, institutions, and organisations that drive, cultivate, or support an innovation-rich environment; the physical assets that are designed to stimulate connectivity, collaboration, and innovation; and the networking assets that strengthen trust and collaboration within and across companies and industry clusters. Cleverly, authors of the IDs borrowed the best-selling stories from Jane Jacobs, Manuel Castells, Michael Porter, and Richard Florida, etc., in making a happily-ever-after story where these different types of assets just happen to exist at the same time, at the same place, and feed into each other in the growth of an innovation ecosystem. Public and private leaders worldwide buy into this story because it sounds straightforward, defined, modularisable, transferable, and, importantly, tangible and investable. Yet exactly how a functional innovation milieu could be planted in the first place is little discussed or even eschewed in the ID literature. Moreover, while the concept of ‘district’ was defined in Brookings’ writing, the meaning of ‘innovation’ was taken for granted and largely assumed as a private endeavor that sets and keeps the capitalist engine in motion. These limitations mirror those in the broader economic geography scholarship, where the evolution of industrial clusters has long been debated, but identifying the particular seed of a successful cluster is often regarded as messy and less important (Braunerhjelm and Feldman 2006; Phelps 1992). There is also a tendency to focus on companies’ decision-making and/or the life cycle of a particular sector in exploring industrial evolution instead of the broader supporting built environment. This chapter focuses on the roles of innovation infrastructures and the variegated actors involved in setting in motion the development of an ID, drawing upon a case study of B ­ oston Seaport. The Oxford Dictionary defines infrastructure as ‘the basic physical and organisational structures and facilities needed for the operation of a society or enterprise’. A narrower DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-7

74  J. T. Miao interpretation of infrastructure focuses on those physical constructions such as buildings, roads, and energy supplies, whereas a broader definition views it as a bundle of hardware, software, ‘wetware’ (or human ingenuity or capital), and cultural facilities and systems that support the sustainable functionality of households and firms. Taking the broader definition, this chapter defines innovation infrastructure as the assemblage of hard, soft, and cultural facilities in defined areas to support innovation-related activities. In what follows, the development of innovation infrastructures and the key actors involved are reviewed. This is followed by the empirical case study. The conclusion summarises the key lessons that can be learned from an investigation of the development of Seaport and offers some directions for future research on innovation infrastructures. Innovation infrastructures and key actors Innovation is a socially embedded process and requires various supporting infrastructures ­(Winden et al. 2014). Innovation infrastructures are developed with these networking needs in mind but also cater to the demand for facilities, spaces, and transport connections. Like the expression of ‘organisational learning’, which is regarded as an ‘oxymoron’ by Weick and Westley (1996), the term ‘innovation infrastructure’ also exhibits the dilemma between flexibility and stability, as to ‘innovate’ denotes creative destructions, whereas to provide ‘infrastructure’ signals fixity, sunk investment and ‘lock-in’. But it is argued here that the contradiction between changes brought by ‘innovation’, on the one hand, and stabilisation emphasised by ‘infrastructure’, on the other hand, could be lessened or solved by the feedback mechanisms between these two processes. Actually, one of the capabilities of an innovation infrastructure lies in dealing with this dilemma on spatial, material, cultural, and temporal dimensions (Heidenreich 2004). To fuller understand how innovation infrastructures could cope with or absorb this dynamic tension requires addressing at least three further questions. The first one relates to identifying the key actors in using and providing the innovation infrastructures. Current literature tends to take the view that R&D-intensive companies are the drivers of the innovation process and innovation culture and that developers build office/lab spaces, and governments regulate and facilitate these processes while providing public goods and facilities. Investment decisions of the latter two are assumed to be led by the former (Acs 2002), and the quality of built environment often serves as the background in accounts that focus on innovative firms (Scott 2010). This narrower perception of ‘who is doing what’ calls for attention to the second issue, that is, the bidirectional interactions between the changes in the techno-creativity domain and changes in the socio-institutional domain. Fuzzy concepts like ‘interactions’ or ‘mutual influences’ between these two are frequently used with the implicit assumption of ‘institutions as derived entities’ prevalent (Coriat and Dosi 2000, p352). The third and related issue ponders the role of governments. Criticism tends to view public interventions as constraints on technology advances due to their inert nature, contradictory interests, and the ‘one-size-fits-all’ principle. To explore the first issue, it is important to recall the definition of innovation infrastructure used in this study: i.e., the assemblage of hard, soft, and cultural facilitates to support innovation-related activities. This broader definition brings everyone who designs, delivers, uses, and improves the innovation infrastructures on board. Innovative firms are the users of infrastructures, whose spatial agglomeration and networking also create the wetware (human capital) and culture of an innovation milieu. At the same time, firms and their employees provide constant feedback to the providers of existing and future infrastructures, hence stimulating a co-evolution of innovation and the built environment. Drawing upon the resource-based view of the firm (Barney 1991) and strategic management theory (Freeman and Soete 1997),

The infrastructures of innovation districts  75 Miao (2013) argued that firms are unique combinations of resources and strategy preferences. A minimal level of internal knowledge stock is arguably a precondition for firms to appreciate the opportunities and to absorb the new technologies, and a minimal level of entrepreneurship is required for a company to be proactive and risk-taking. Developers, architects, and planners, on the other hand, design, deliver, and improve physical infrastructures, including housing. At the same time, their creative programming of activities in a place could help to enrich the software and culture of innovation, augmenting those created by the innovative firms (Miao 2017, 2018). Moreover, by closely engaging customers in the space design and post-usage evaluation, these actors bridge the feedback loop between innovation needs and infrastructure provision, ameliorating the tension between flexibility and stability inherent in the idea of innovation infrastructures. But there are potential misalignments between the interests of developers and planners. While the former is profit-driven so sectorial and design considerations are low on their priority list (Adair et al. 2003), the latter often shoulder the mandate of supporting the embryonic industries and/or small and medium enterprises, which do not yet generate much revenue. When this happens, public agencies either intervene directly by taking on the role of developers themselves or indirectly by using planning tools such as developer incentives or obligations. Public creativity, or intrapreneurship, using the term of Miao and Phelps (2019) introduced below, often features in these intervention processes. For the second issue, it is argued that feedback between the techno-creativity and the socioinstitutional domains is mediated through the design, the utilisation, and the efficacy of innovation infrastructures. User engagement and public consultation in the design stage are the first step where actors in the techno-creativity domains sound-out their desires and needs, which in turn are fed into the composition, function, and morphology of innovation infrastructures. By monitoring the usage of different types of infrastructures at different times, managers of innovation infrastructures – these being tenant companies, developers, and public agencies – obtain a sense of the temporal and spatial patterns of innovation activities. This information enables them to adjust the layout and functional division of spaces as well as introducing new programs of activities (Wilson 2019). The efficacy of innovation infrastructures could be examined through economic and innovation indicators but also broadly the quality of life and happiness of employees; it could be measured on multiple scales ranging from individual office blocks to a company complex, to the whole district, and even the whole city or metropolitan area, depending on how well-connected and thought-out these innovation infrastructures are. For the third issue, Harvey (1989) has long drawn our attention to the entrepreneurialism of local governments in competing with each other for the bases of tourism, taxation, and mobile investments of businesses. Commentators have since observed the inseparability of states and markets in the entrepreneurial processes (Mazzucato 2013) and how local governments have sought to ‘business-up’ economic and social development when re-making investment climates. These include, for example, using public land as collateral for loans to finance infrastructure investment (Wu 2022), tax increment financing (Weber 2010), and the (re)engineering of urban infrastructure to create an investable class with securitised flows of funds (O’Neill 2019). Along with the proliferation of the urban entrepreneurialism literature comes the call for greater sensitivity to the variegated forms of urban entrepreneurialism and the corresponding innovations and creativity of instruments mobilised (Phelps and Miao 2019). In particular, dissatisfied with the neoliberal reading of the state as an obstacle to innovation, Miao and Phelps (2019) proposed ‘state intrapreneurship’ as an alternative interpretation of the modern state’s role in socio-­ economic development. They argue that innovative forms of stateness could ‘come as much from within (as important legacies of the intrasocietal functions of the developmental state) as from without (as a reflection of the extrasocietal pressures of globalisation in particular)’ (ibid. p320).

76  J. T. Miao Specific features of state intrapreneurship were derived from the intersections between state developmentalism and entrepreneurialism, including continued leadership in the setting of industrial priorities; the leadership and action power present in partnership; and the outcome-oriented decision-making process. Taking the lens of ‘state intrapreneurship’, innovation infrastructures are not just infrastructure investment per se but a creative decision-making of the public sector in directing the industrial structures and local competitiveness towards a particular trajectory. In what follows, the case study of Seaport ID will be presented to illustrate the actors within, and the roles of, innovation infrastructures. Boston innovation district: One man’s vision? Generally speaking, US innovation policies and strategies at the Federal level tend to be sectorfocused, aspatial, and broad brush. The overall purpose of innovation policies is to provide a supportive environment (legislation, labour, etc.) for innovation. Nelson and Langlois (1983) pointed out there are four types of innovation supportive policies in the US, including (1) government R&D support for technologies in which the government has a strong and direct procurement interest; (2) decentralised systems of government-supported research in the ‘generic’ area between the basic and the applied; (3) a decentralised system of clientele-oriented support for applied R&D; and (4) government ‘picking winners’ in commercial applied R&D. The last one was identified as being not effective. Dedicated innovation planning and strategies do not exist in the commonwealth of Massachusetts (MA) either. Instead, initiatives are coordinated by key public agencies and are often spin-offs from other (such as economic) strategies. The relatively ‘laid-back’ position of MA is perhaps conditioned by the fact that the state has been lucky to have a large pool of talent and enterprises leading the innovation process. Belanger (2017, p20), for example, noted that over the last decade, efforts to support innovation in Massachusetts have often focused on specific industries. For example, under the Deval Patrick administration (2007–2015), there was a big bet on Greater Boston’s life sciences industry, whereas other regions of the commonwealth were struggling with weak market conditions and low private investment (MassINC 2022). The Baker-Polito administration’s economic development plan, Opportunities for All Making, builds thematically on the Patrick administration’s 2014 legislation by emphasising workforce development and the potential for innovation to reach all regions of the Commonwealth. This strategy focuses more on innovation infrastructures, including co-working spaces, venture centers, maker and artist spaces, incubators and accelerators, classes, competitions, meet-ups, and interactions with thought leaders, to foster a culture of innovation and entrepreneurship. Two key agencies are instrumental in the operation: MassDevelopment, formed in 1998 from a merger of the Government Land Bank and Massachusetts Industrial Finance Agency, oversees the hardware development, and MassTech, founded in 1982, focuses more on the software of supporting business formation and growth in the state’s technology sector. It is set against these national and regional backgrounds that this chapter explores the genesis and features of Seaport. Seaport is a centrally located former port area created landfill through the dumping of sludge and sediment from the dredging of Boston Harbor during the 1800s and into the early 1900s. The modern shape of Seaport began to emerge by the 20th century with the western portion, locally recognised as Fan Pier, becoming the city’s hub for commercial shipping and rail transportation, and the eastern portion, now the 190-acre Marine Industrial Park, becoming a US military base acting as a key transport hub for the Army and Navy during the two World Wars (Drucker et al. 2019). As containerisation of cargo shifted to deep water ports in other locations and the demand for rail reduced, so did the fortunes of the Fan Pier terminal and its supporting neighbouhoods in the south (Fort Point) and east (Seaport Square). Rail

The infrastructures of innovation districts  77

Figure 6.1  Historical Seaport.

companies gradually sold their interests and the property lay dormant. The Marine Industrial Park was also left unused when the South Boston Army base was decommissioned in 1974. For a long time after the demise of many of its port-related activities, Seaport existed as a set of warehouse and pier buildings in an expanse of derelict land turned over to parking lots for the nearby Boston central business district (Figure 6.1). Today, Seaport has turned its fortune around to become one of the most sought-after districts in the Boston Metropolitan region. It agglomerates more than 350 companies across healthcare, technology, construction, consulting, and finance (WS Development 2022), such as Vertex Pharmaceuticals, PwC, BCG, Skanska USA, PTC, Autodesk, Reebok, Amazon, Boston Global Investors and Fallon Management Co. The success of Seaport ID has often been attributed to several ‘happy coincidences’ (Drucker et al. 2019; The Intersector Project 2015). The Central Artery/Tunnel Project, commonly referred to as the Big Dig, for example, is a frequently mentioned megaproject led by the Commonwealth government that fundamentally changed the accessibility of Seaport. It started in 1982 and completed in 2006 with a significantly overspent budget of $14.6 billion (original estimate at $2.6 billion), which nonetheless transformed the accessibility and development potential of Boston and Seaport in particular. With a dedicated exit ramp off the MassPike (I-90) and direct connections to Logan International Airport, the Seaport is now arguably the most accessible location in Boston. Boston harbor and waterfront clean-up is another major project that made Seaport more attractive as a destination. The harbor used to be recognised as the dirtiest in the nation, surrounded by brownfields and suffering from over a century of contamination of sewage and sludge. In 1985, the United States Environmental Protection Agency was ordered

78  J. T. Miao by a federal judge to oversee the clean-up of the harbor. It ended up becoming one of the largest public projects in New England and one of the nation’s greatest environmental achievements. Further augmenting these investments, The Boston Convention and Exhibition Center was approved in 1997 by an act of the Massachusetts legislature, in light of growing concerns that Boston lacked a facility to adequately host major conventions and events. The John Joseph Moakley Federal Courthouse was also located in Fan Pier in 1999 as its first tenant, both of which had started to make Seaport a destination. Weaving all these investments together, the then Mayor Thomas M. Menino, the longestserved Mayor in Boston’s history, was determined to make Seaport ID a signature mark of his term in office. Menino mobilised his influence over the Boston Redevelopment Authority to steer development towards Seaport – labelling it, at the time, Boston Innovation District – while drawing key concessions from developers to lure in anchor tenants and public facilities. One case in point is the Seaport District Hall, now arguably the most referred to case in the ID literature, which is a building leased for public use, developed by private finance and on private land. Boston Seaport district: Many hands make light work? Yet deeper explorations through intensive interviews with a wide range of stakeholders on the ground revealed that the development of Seaport’s innovation infrastructures is better regarded as something of a collective and iterative effort rather than the vision of an individual, having benefitted from the creative inputs of several different actors. A once large group of artists located in Fort Point were among the first set of actors to help craft Seaport as it is today, though not always in agreement among themselves or with the development process in, or the names Innovation District or Seaport applied to, the area. Beginning in the 1960s and 1970s, artists had appreciated the features of the 1800s warehouses and brick factories of Fort Point, which once served the shipping and rail connections of Fan Pier, but later largely left abandoned. Artists begun illegally, or with peppercorn rents from building owners, occupying these old brick warehouses and investing their ‘sweat equity’ to turn them into studios and galleries and collectively purchasing or obtaining long leases on buildings for these activities. In the process, they transformed this neighbourhood into a hub of start-ups and creative culture in the 1990s and early 2000s. At the height, there were over 800 artists occupying most of the obsolescent buildings in Fort Point. Their existence and activities injected a hip and cool feeling to this neighbourhood at the same time keeping most of the heritage buildings in use, many of which have now been rented out to start-up companies and large corporates ­(Figure 6.2). Along with the regeneration process, artists have fought strongly against a uniform, glass-tower development of Seaport, an effort highly valuable as it not only retains the historical feel of this place – a quality valued by creative class but also aroused a better willingness of developers and planners to engage and listen to artists. Although displacement did happen in Seaport which saw the number of artists shrink to the 200–300 that are present now, artists have remained a close-knit group with active leaders continuously championing for a more inclusive, sustainable, and heritage-sensitive development approach in Seaport. The activities of these artists therefore, helped to protect a good mixture of the innovation infrastructures. Their artistic creations, exhibitions, and expressive lifestyle also excite the culture of Seaport, making it attractive to tech talent who do share some interest in art and developers and corporate occupants who are aware of the value of leveraging art in their buildings and for their brands. Developers have always been at the background of innovation infrastructures. Their creative craft lies not only in speculating but, more importantly, we are made to believe, having a vision

The infrastructures of innovation districts  79

Figure 6.2  Fort Point heritage buildings.

for the future of what, in this case, was derelict land. In this sense, the physical development of Seaport also embodied the software and cultural ingredients of what Seaport was to become. Much of the land in Fan Pier, for example, was purchased by Boston developer Joseph Fallon and Massachusetts Mutual Life Insurance Co. in 2005 from the Chicago Pritzker family. The latter had left this lot mostly used as parking spaces since the 1980s. Urged by Mayor Menino,

80  J. T. Miao Pritzker agreed to sell the 20.5-acre site between the ICA and the Federal Courthouse to the partnership. Joseph Fallon, again through the introduction and encouragement of Menino, leased 22,000 square feet of office space for free in his brand-new One Marina Park Drive building to MassChallenge, a move that successfully lured this Kendall Square-based not-for-profit incubator and accelerator. This also became the turning point for Seaport on its way to an ID, as the existence and activities of MassChallenge helped to generate significant traffic to the district, changed its industrial character, and helped to attract entrepreneurs who could have looked nowhere other than the entrepreneurial hub of Kendall Square (The Intersector Project 2015). In 2011, the Fallon Management Co. and MassMutual further extended their agreement with MassChallenge to another three years, consolidating MassChallenge as the anchor entity at Seaport. Seaport Square is another large piece of land right in the centre of Seaport that was used as a parking lot. In 2006, Boston Global Investors (BGI) and Morgan Stanley joint ventured to purchase this land (23 acres) for $205 million. A master plan was developed which envisioned a mix of luxury condominiums, boutique shops, upper floor office space, and restaurants. As part of the planning approval requirement, BGI designed, built, and then transferred the District Hall to the city council for free, which became the landmark and social hub for the local entrepreneurial community. It was the first building constructed at Seaport Square and remains the most striking example of the city’s 30% innovation uses set-aside (Figure 6.3). Public authorities are also active as major landlords. MassPort, a state transportation authority, is one of the largest landowners in the South Boston Waterfront, controlling nearly 300 acres of development parcels, ship maintenance dock, the marine passenger terminal, and most of

Figure 6.3  Seaport District Hall.

The infrastructures of innovation districts  81 waterfront property east of D street. The Commonwealth Flats, 70 acres of land immediately east of Fan Pier and stretching to the center of Seaport, for example, was perceived by this authority as a strategic development site that could create dependable revenue streams needed to finance additional maritime improvements and operations. A Commonwealth Flats Strategic Plan was developed in 2000 which set the vision of a mixed-use commercial development into the next 20 years, and it was regarded as a pioneer initiative in reimagining the future of Seaport (MassPort 2000). Besides MassPort, the 70–80 acres comprising the BCEC and its abutting properties along D Street fall under the jurisdiction of another state authority – the Massachusetts Convention Center. The city, on the other hand, created the Marine Industrial Park in 1983 by purchasing the Bronstein Industrial Center, an eight-storey, 1.4 million square feet complex once used to store military supplies. The lease on the Bronstein building was split into two. The eastern side became home to the Dry Dock – an incubator specialising in bio-pharma, marine, and other businesses needing a shared wet-lab facility. The western side was renamed the ‘Innovation and Design Center’, first becoming home to the Boston Design Center (a showcase and workspace for design professionals) and later to ventures like the MassChallenge Accelerator (moved out), the Autodesk Building, and a testing facility for Reebok (Drucker et al. 2019). The local planning authority completes the last piece of the jigsaw. In 1999, the Boston Redevelopment Authority developed the Seaport Public Realm Plan under Mayor Menino’s instruction. This was followed a year later by the South Boston Waterfront Municipal Harbor Plan. Both documents had sought to leverage and capitalise the public investments that had already happened in Seaport by encouraging a mixed-use development. Yet both plans failed to identify a unique selling point for this place. After examining the Barcelona 22@, Mayor Menino and his Chief of Staff came up with the term ‘innovation district’. During his fifth inaugural address, Mayor Menino officially declared his vision for Seaport: ‘Our mandate to all will be to invent a 21st century district that meets the needs of the innovators who live and work in Boston – to create a job magnet, an urban lab on our shore, and to harvest its lessons for the city’ (Menino 2010). An experimental approach in planning, building partnership, and seeking contributions from developers was encouraged which stimulated interest among the business community and created momentum for the public sector to engage developers, design and architecture firms, corporates, entrepreneurs, and non-profit organisations in constructing the fabric of a community. ‘Move small, move fast; be a much more nimble [public] entrepreneur’ was the motto of the city (The Intersector Project 2015). This creative branding soon triggered a chain of reactions and became the catalyst of Seaport’s fast development. It also left a legacy of institutional flexibility and public-private partnership in this district – an environment favored by innovative companies. Conclusions and discussions Contrary to the popular view that an ID is born out of happy coincidences, the story of Seaport revealed that an array of innovation infrastructures – the improved transport connections, open spaces, water cleaning, the creative culture and heritage buildings preserved by the artist community, the mixture of properties and programming of activities offered by private and public developers, the existing talent and entrepreneurship this neighbourhood could draw upon, as well as the determination and networks of Mayor Menino and the successful marketing and flexible planning schemes used by BRA – have all played a part in Seaport’s development. Indeed, the speed at which Seaport developed means that while more and better could have been done to curate this ostensibly ‘new old’ of Boston, the many hands involved have ensured that it is less of a mono-urban and industrial district than might otherwise have been the case.

82  J. T. Miao The majority of these innovation infrastructures underpinning the success of Seaport were planned and/or invested well before its take-off, highlighting the long-term development horizon of an ID. The staged development strategies used by private developers also have evolved with the demand emanating from particular industrial sectors, leaving spaces for newcomers, such as the bio sector, to discover this space. Moreover, an active and creative role of the ­local government was evident not only in promoting the catchy title of ID but also in weaving together the scattered infrastructure investments and innovation fabrics. It is perhaps not an exaggeration to say that the effort of the Mayor and his office has helped to shorten the time needed for Seaport to bloom. Albeit successful in economic terms, the growth of Seaport has resulted in unintended consequences: with sky-high real estate prices, many innovative entrepreneurs, artists, and startup companies have been priced out by large corporate entities like Vertex Pharmaceuticals, Amazon, PTC, and PwC. There are not enough residential developments and those offered tend to be on the luxury end, affordable only by residents with a median household income of over US$150,000 – the highest in the city and more than double of Boston’s median income (Remedios 2021). There is also a lack of neighborhood facilities such as supermarkets, schools, and playgroups for families. So, Seaport is now one of the most exclusive districts dominated by white, young, single, and relatively high-income workers and residents. Thus, housing creative and knowledge workers remains a fundamental challenge internationally (Miao 2017). Concerned with the growing disparity, the successor to Mayor Menino, Mayor Martin Walsh, released a report in 2015 with the purpose of exploring the possibility of building on the successes and lessons learned from the Seaport and creating more neighborhood IDs in Boston to empower the city’s entrepreneurial talent (City of Boston News 2015). The current Mayor Wu wants to further open up this place by promoting a greener agenda, making residential offerings more affordable and the district more representative of the mix of Boston’s population. No concrete plan, however, has been announced, underlining the difficulty of changing the direction of a train when fully on power. References Acs, Z. J. (2002), Innovation and the Growth of Cities (Cheltenham: Edward Elgar). Adair, A.,Berry, J., McGreal, S., Hutchison, N., Watkins, C., Gibb, K.. (2003), ‘Urban Regeneration and Property Investment Performance’, Journal of Property Research, 20 (4), 371–386. Barney, J. B. (1991), ‘Firm Resources and Sustained Competitive Advantage’, Journal of Management 17, 99–120. Belanger, R. (2017), Developing Common Wealth: Workspaces for Innovation and Entrepreneurship in Massachusetts, Master Thesis, (Boston: Massachusetts Institute of Technology). Braunerhjelm, P. and Feldman, M. (2006), Cluster Genesis: Technology-Based Industrial Development (New York: Oxford University Press). City of Boston News (2015), ‘Report explores creation of more neighborhood innovation districts’. https:// www.boston.gov/news/report-explores-creation-more-neighborhood-innovation-districts Coriat, B. and Dosi, G. (2000), ‘The institutional embeddedness of economic change: An appraisal of the “evolutionary” and `regulationist’ research programmes’, in G. Dosi (ed.), Innovation, Organization and Economic Dynamics: Selected Essays (Glos: Edward Elgar Publishing Limited), 347–76. Drucker, J., Kayanan, C. M. and Renski, H. (2019), ‘Innovation Districts as a Strategy for Urban Economic Development: A Comparison of Four Cases’ (Center for Economic Development Technical Reports). Retrieved from https://scholarworks.umass.edu/ced_techrpts/192, accessed on 7 December 2021. Freeman, C. and Soete, L. (1997), The Economics of Industrial Innovation (London: Pinter). Harvey, D. (1989), ‘From Managerialism to Entrepreneurialism: The Transformation in Urban Governance in Late Capitalism’, Geografiska Annaler. Series B, Human Geography 71 (1), 3–17.

The infrastructures of innovation districts  83 Heidenreich, M. (2004), ‘Conclusion: The dilemmas of regional innovation systems’, in P. Cooke, M. Heidenreich and H-J. Braczyk (eds.), Regional Innovation System: The Role of Governance in a Globalized World (London and New York: Routledge), 363–394. Katz, B. and Wagner, J. (2014), ‘The Rise of Innovation Districts’. Retrieved from https://www.brookings. edu/articles/rise-of-innovation-districts/, accessed on 30 December 2021. MassINC (2022), ‘This Is the Moment to Make Transformative Investments’. https://massinc.org/2022/06/ 09/this-is-the-moment-to-make-transformative-investments/ MassPort (2000), ‘Commonwealth Flats Strategic Plan’, (Boston: Massachusetts Port Authority). Mazzucato, M. (2013), The Entrepreneurial State: Debunking Public vs. Private Sector Myths (London: Anthem Press (Kindle Edition)). Menino, T. M. (2010), ‘Inaugural Address’. Retrieved from cityofboston.gov/TridionImages/2010%20 Thomas%20M%20%20Menino%20Inaugural%20final_tcm1-4838.pdf, accessed on 27 December 2021. Miao, J. T. (2013), ‘The Birth, Evolution and Performance of High-Tech Zones in China’, PhD thesis (London: University College London). ——— (2017), ‘Housing the Knowledge Economy in China: An Examination of Housing Provision in Support of Science Parks’, Urban Studies 54 (6), 1426–1445. ——— (2018), ‘Knowledge Economy Challenges for Post-Developmental State: Tsukuba Science City as in-between Place’, Town Planning Review 89 (1), 61–84. Miao, J. T., Benneworth, P. and Phelps, N. A. (2015), Making 21st Century Knowledge Complexes: Technopoles of the World Revisited (London: Routledge). Miao, J. T. and Phelps, N. A. (2019), ‘The Intrapreneurial State: Singapore’s Emergence in the Smart and Sustainable Urban Solutions Field’, Territory, Politics, Governance 7 (3), 316–335. Nelson, R. R. and Langlois, R. N. (1983), ‘Industrial Innovation Policy: Lessons from American History’, Science 219 (4586), 814–818. O’Neill, P. (2019), ‘The Financialisation of Urban Infrastructure: A Framework of Analysis’, Urban Studies 56 (7), 1304–1325. Phelps, N. A. (1992), ‘External Economies, Agglomeration and Flexible Accumulation’, Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 17(1), 35–46. Phelps, N. A. and Miao, J. T. (2019), ‘Varieties of Urban Entrepreneurialism’, Dialogues in Human Geography 10 (3), 304–321. Remedios, J. (2021), ‘The Seaport Cost Billions to Build. What Will It Take to Save It?’. Retrieved from https://www.wbur.org/news/2021/06/16/boston-seaport-fort-point-climate-change-sea-level, accessed on 3 June 2023. Scott, A. (2010), ‘Cultural Economy and the Creative Field of the City’, Geografiska Annaler 92 (2), 115–130. The Intersector Project (2015), ‘The Development of Boston’s Innovation District’. http://intersector.com/ reports/innovation-district/, accessed on 23 December 2021. Weber, R. (2010), ‘Selling City Future: The Financialization of Urban Redevelopment Policy’, Economic Geography 86 (3), 251–274. Weick, K. E. and Westley, F. (1996), ‘Organizational learning: Affirming an oxymoron’, in S. R. Clegg, C. Hardy and W. R. Nord (eds.), Handbook of Organization Studies (London: SAGE Publications Ltd), 440–458. Wilson, D. (2019), ‘What the Rise of Coworking Means for the Real Estate Industry’. https://medium.com/ swlh/what-the-rise-of-coworking-means-for-the-real-estate-industry-5365916f3ae4. Winden, Willem van, Braun, E., Otgaar, A., Witte, J-J. (2014), Urban Innovation Systems: What Makes Them Tick? (New York: Routledge). WS Development (2022), ‘Boson Seaport’. https://www.wsdevelopment.com/our-properties/boston-seaport2/, accessed on 17 January 2023. Wu, F. (2022), ‘Land Financialisation and the Financing of Urban Development in China’, Land Use Policy 112 (Jan), 1–10.

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Workplace repositioning post-pandemic Hybrid working Eileen Sim

Introduction Prior to the 20th century, the term ‘office’ did not represent a physical workplace but rather referred to a position or role of authority or service (Aronoff & Kaplan, 1995; Haigh, 2012). ‘Office’ has since evolved and it currently refers to the corporate real estate housing non-­manufacturing or ‘office work’ for an organisation (Neufert, Neufert, & Kister, 2012). This chapter discusses offices in the context of ‘workplace’ such as the workplace layout, the worksettings and technological equipment, supporting employees’ work, or ‘Space Plan and Stuff’ (Brand, 1994). Prior to COVID-19, the norm of ‘going to work’ implies that one was heading to the office or their workplace. However, COVID-19 pandemic had redefined where work was conducted as lockdowns and work-from-home orders were introduced. It has required organisations to offer maximum flexibility and challenged traditional management philosophies that work meant being in the office from 9 am to 5 pm. During COVID-19 and lockdowns, when employees were working from home, the phrase ‘going to work’ was no longer about physically going to an office, but it was about shifting our attention and activity towards work and its productive activities. Approximately 50% of employees in Australia reported working from home in September 2020 (compared to approximately 5% pre-pandemic in 2016), and almost 70% preferred to continue working mostly from home post-pandemic (Melbourne Institute, 2020). Supported by the legal system in Australia (Fair Work Ombudsman, n.d.), employees are demanding for greater flexibility in where they work and to feel safe in their choices to work from the office or to work from home (Marzban et al., 2021). Therefore, it is more than likely that partial working from home will be a norm (Henry, Hunt, & Marasco, 2020; Lang et al., 2020; Savills, 2020). COVID-19 has accelerated and expedited the transformation of workplaces compared to the historical speed of workplace changes as organisations begin to comprehend how the new norm of work post-COVID-19 will be as employees settle into a new rhythm of hybrid working. This raised some big questions of whether offices are here to stay and their role in employees’ productivity post-pandemic. This chapter puts forward a discussion on the typology of workplaces to position the role of flexibility in future workplaces, the importance of offices exclusively occupied by an organisation and redesigning workplaces post-pandemic. Typology of workplaces Pre-COVID-19, innovation in workplaces can be segregated into three generations of workplaces: 1 First-Generation workplace: Corridor offices: ‘… series of adjoining enclosed rooms …’ (p. 65) supporting small groups or solo work functions ‘… reflecting either their elevated DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-8

Workplace repositioning post-pandemic  85 position in society or their more humble role as a loyal assistant’ (Bedford & Tong, 1997, p. 65). The Corridor offices emerged as businesses expanded resulting in merchants and selfemployed entrepreneurs being unable to conduct their work in their own homes as they did before the 19th century and the industrial revolution (Gatter, 1982); 2 Second-Generation workplace: The rapid industrialisation in the Western World drove the emergence of the Second-Generation workplace as larger organisations required more clerks within cities to coordinate and control the growing complexity of information in manufacturing and distribution (Bedford & Tong, 1997; Gatter, 1982). The Open-plan offices first emerged and were open desks without enclosures arranged in a rectilinear manner resembling a factory production line that were enclosed by private offices along the building perimeter for higherranked employees (Bedford & Tong, 1997; Sundstrom & Sundstrom, 1986). The desk was also designed based on the Taylor Scientific Management System to increase productivity (Forty, 1986; Kuang, 2009). Employees resented the Open-plan office as they were treated as ‘unthinking automatons’ with no control, no privacy, and had many distractions (Duffy & Wankum, 1969). The Bürolandschaft (German) that translates to ‘Office Landscape’ was introduced in the 1960s with more focus on the team approach, flexibility, and hierarchy removal (Duffy, Cave, & Worthington, 2013). Private offices were removed and the Bürolandschaft consisted of large undivided open floor areas with standardised desks arranged at odd angles and workers arrangedbased communications (Duffy et al., 2013; Gatter, 1982). Multipurpose ‘movable screens’ was introduced to deal with issues around privacy, noise, distraction, and lack of personalisation (Duffy & Wankum, 1969, p. 10). In 1968, the Action office emerged to deal with privacy and communication issues from the Bürolandschaft (Budd, 2001). The Action Office featured modular design and free-standing enclosure panels with adaptability options such as storage units, personal items, and work surfaces (Gatter, 1982; Laing, 1997). Taken to an extreme, the Action Office started being associated with a lack of privacy and interaction (Budd, 2001). Both the First- and Second-Generation workplace still featured assigned workspace or individual territory. 3 Third-Generation workplace: In the 1970s, the third-generation workplace was introduced featuring non-territoriality, sharing-based model for more efficiency in space use and processbased model to support a variety of work processes (Allen & Gerstberger, 1973; Bedford & Tong, 1997). Despite the success in experimentation, there was little take up and speculations that it was too innovative for its time as technology innovation lagged and was unable to support mobility (Stone & Luchetti, 1985). Over the years, four types of non-territorial offices (Co-location spaces, Activity-Based Working, Self-owned Desks, and Hot-desking) have emerged and can be differentiated based on the organisation’s exclusive use of Desks, individual’s exclusive use of workstation and variety of worksettings as seen in Table 7.1. Table 7.1  Comparison of third-generation workplaces

Organisation’s exclusive use of office space Individual’s exclusive use of worksetting Large variety of worksettings

Co-location spaces

ABW

Self-owned desk

Hot-desking

No

Yes

Yes

Yes

No

No (only lockers) Yes

Yes (mobile worksetting per employee) Yes

No

Yes

No

86

E. Sim Co-location spaces differ from the rest as the office is shared with several organisations (Nenonen, 2016). Self-owned Desk differs from the rest as individuals have exclusive use of their own pedestal Desk stored in the locked at the end of the day (Ortony, Clore, & Foss, 1987). Hot-desking lacks a large variety of worksettings and are similar to non-territorial Open-plan offices unlike ABW offices that features a large variety of worksettings to support the various work activities (Veldhoen + Company, no date; Duerksen, 2012). There is much negative connotation around Hot-desking (for example, Warner (2013) and Wyllie et al. (2012)) as it offers little benefits besides cost-savings, compared to ABW offices that are purported to offer: • Higher space efficiency and utilisation, flexibility to support future spaceless growth (Brunia, De Been, & Voordt, 2016; Candido et al., 2016); • Talent attraction and retention by providing employees more autonomy, flexibility, and enjoyable workplaces (Brunia et al., 2016; Candido et al., 2016); • Increased productivity as the variety of worksettings are designed to support employees’ activity needs (Brunia et al., 2016; Candido et al., 2016); • Facilitates knowledge-sharing through superior communication and collaboration (Brunia et al., 2016; Candido et al., 2016); and • Better aligns with organisational equality values since no employees are assigned Desks.

As discussed earlier, prior to COVID-19, approximately 5% of employees in Australia worked from home and this increased to 50% in September 2020 with almost 70% of employees preferring to continue mostly working from home post-pandemic (Melbourne Institute, 2020). This leads to the introduction of the fourth-generation workplace as economies emerge from COVID-19: 4 Fourth-Generation workplace: Hybrid Working in which employees are provided with the option to work from home on some days and work from the second- or third-generation workplace (Marzban et al., 2021) on other days are expected to be the new norm. In Australia, the expectation and preferences are to work from home at least two days a week and the remainder in the office for employees offered the flexibility (Higgins et al., 2022; Productivity Commission, 2021). Contrary to the previous generations of offices that focuses more on the office workplace and its location, Hybrid Working focuses on a more flexible way of working that has a shared workplace location (most commonly between one’s home and the workplace) (Higgins et al., 2022). Whilst hybrid working has existed pre-pandemic, it was uncommon and typically only existed alongside thirdgeneration workplace that promoted flexibility. Employee productivity is increasingly being accepted as employees’ ability to deliver and complete their work within the required time frame rather than their ability to clock on and off on-time and to be present at the office for the required work hours. Again, this concept of productivity is not new, but it has taken a long time for widespread acceptance. This chapter returns to redesigning hybrid workplaces later. The four generations of office workplace are conceptualised in Figure 7.1. The new norm of Hybrid working challenges the definition of Corporate Real Estate. Corporate Real Estate is defined as the real estate that organisations need to conduct their core business (Arkesteijn, 2019). With people’s homes becoming part of the real estate that organisations need to conduct their core business, are people’s homes part of organisations’ Corporate Real Estate?

Workplace repositioning post-pandemic  87

Figure 7.1  Four generations of office workplace.

Redefining Corporate Real Estate to include people’s homes has several implications that are outside the scope of this chapter but is an important consideration for organisations’ management of real estate. Importance of physical office workplaces Whilst there were speculations on whether offices will be a thing of the past, it is unlikely that organisations will completely move to full time working from home rendering the physical workplace obsolete. Offices provide face-to-face socialisation that creates a sense of community as employees bond over the shared organisational culture and values that are lacking during COVID-19 (Henry et al., 2020; Lang et al., 2020; Savills, 2020; Savills Real Estate Advisory, 2020). Recent industry studies have found that certain activities, such as Focused Work, were better conducted at home, whereas other activities centered around communication and connection, such as Collaboration and Brainstorming, Learning from Colleagues, Talent Development and Interconnectedness with company culture, were better supported in the office (Lang et al., 2020). This is not new as pre-COVID-19, research has found that some employees struggled to conduct Focused Work in the office and preferred to conduct Focused Work at home (Lang et al., 2020; Sim, 2021). Whilst some activities are better supported at home, working from home is reported to cause feelings of loneliness (Lang et al., 2020). There are varying benefits derived from working from home and in the office: a daily routine, mental health, physical health, quality family time, sense of belonging or pride in company, personal growth, work-life balance (Lang et al., 2020). This provides a strong contention for Hybrid Working to capitalise on the benefits of both working from home and in the office.

88  E. Sim Redesigning workplaces The adoption of Hybrid Working has major implications in how offices should be redesigned. Prior to moving into the design of offices, there are three approaches to Hybrid Way of Working identified by Higgins et al. (2022) based on whom the control/autonomy resides with: 1 Office Centric (Low Autonomy, Employer Chooses) – in which the employer decides that employees work at the office on designated days (typically two to three days) of the week; 2 Team Oriented (Medium Autonomy, Manager Chooses) – in which managers decide which days employees and their teams work at the office; and 3 Choice Centric (High Autonomy, Employee Chooses) – in which employees decide on when and where to work, factoring organisational priorities. Choices and Autonomy are at the core of the approaches to Hybrid Working (Higgins et al., 2022). Extending beyond choosing the location (home or the office), organisations should further consider the choices and autonomy offered within the workplace provided when redesigning the workplace or making decisions on the type of workplace the organisation occupies (second- or third-generation workplaces). Organisations currently occupying Second-Generation workplaces, such as Open Plan offices, are facing the choice of continued adoption of the Second-Generation workplace or adopting a Third-Generation workplace. The choice of continuing in a Second-Generation workplace may result in low utilisation and occupancy rates as some employees are working from home on certain days. The low variety of worksettings in Second-Generation workplaces risks a poor fit between the work activities that employees intend to conduct at the workplace (Thorpe & Alaterou, 2021). Activities poorly supported in Second-Generation workplace and better supported at home disincentivises employees to come to the office and may further decrease utilisation and occupancy. This is of great concern in a work environment post-COVID lockdown where the lack of ‘buzz’ and underutilisation of offices are already in the spotlight. These may lead organisations to consider the adoption of non-territorial Third-Generation workplaces for higher space utilisation and occupancy. Of the few types of Third-Generation workplaces, Hot-desking is not recommended as it does not offer the large variety of worksettings suited to the activities that employees conduct and is overly focused on cost-cutting as a workplace strategy (Veldhoen, n.d.). Pursuing Occupancy Cost minimisation as a workplace strategy may be unattractive to retaining and attracting employees in an environment where employers are struggling to attract employees back to the office for collaboration and ‘accidental collissions’ and competing for talent. In Melbourne, organisations are relocating into higher quality offices alongside implementing hybrid working to attract employees back to the office (Dexter, 2022; Freeman, 2022). The recommended type of non-territorial workplace to adopt alongside Hybrid Working/partial work from home is Activity Based Working (ABW) as they are designed to offer employees the flexibility they desire and a large variety of worksettings to support the activities employees prioritise to support employees’ productivity. Organisations that had previously occupied ABW offices pre-COVID may also have to adapt their ABW ­offices to better fit the activities that employees intend to conduct in the office. For instance, rethinking how employees meet or their meeting objectives and alignment with the various meeting mode capabilities’ task-technology-fit, task-media fit, and social presence (Standaert, Muylle, & Basu, 2021) and designing meeting spaces to fit so that employees can have more productive meetings. In fact, productivity experts point towards employees having too many meetings (Laker et al., 2022) and to rethink the need for synchronous meetings. Communicating

Workplace repositioning post-pandemic  89 asynchronously through softwares such as Loom to record information or knowledge sharing and prioritising time for synchronous meetings such as Initiation, Ideation, Converging, and Bonding (Dean, 2022). As discussed earlier, some activities are better conducted in the office and some are better conducted at home. Therefore, employees’ activity preferences at the office should guide how future offices are designed. For instance, if employees have indicated that they predominantly come into the office for meetings and collaborative activities, the office should be fitted out with more appropriate meeting and collaborative spaces. The elimination of worksettings supporting activities of a lower preference, such as Focused Work, is unlikely as some employees may still have to conduct Focused Work when they are in the office. For instance, when employees are in between meetings. Since the majority of employees may not spend large amounts of time at their Desk as they split their time between the office and home, it is unlikely that each employee will need an assigned Desk and may be more open to unassigned seating in an ABW compared to pre-COVID. The ratio of worksetting variety in ABW offices should reflect the activities that employees intend to conduct at the office to ensure that there are sufficient, appropriate worksettings to promote employee productivity in the office. Identifying the right ratio has its own challenges as employees within the organisation change over time (e.g., New employment and employees leaving) and periods or time of the year in which employees are more consumed with one activity than the other (e.g., End of financial year reporting). One way of coping with the fluctuation of activities to be accommodated is to have a designated area for flexibility. For instance, a large corner room called ‘Ebb and Flow’ with mobile desks, whiteboards on walls, pin-up boards, and movable walls that may be able to accommodate sprints, meetings, projects, collaboration, routine work, and focused work by reconfiguring the mobile desks and redefining the workplace guidelines based on the activity the space is meant to support. When space pressure is low and no employees are struggling to find a suitable worksetting for their activity, the ‘Ebb and Flow’ room can be used as an area to accommodate Focused Work. When space pressure is high and there are insufficient Collaborative spaces, the space can be reconfigured into a space for Collaboration and Brainstorming. This may require more proactive workplace management from the workplace management team, concierge, or Facilities Management. Whilst the earlier discussion focuses on rethinking about the role of offices and how the physical built environment can better support the activities employees desire to take up in ABW offices, the physical built environment in isolation is not sufficient to generate buzz and attract employees back in the long-run. The physical built environment requires alignment with the intangibles such as organisational culture, management or leadership practices, and expectations. For instance, Higgins et. al. (2022) discuss that Hybrid leadership practices have to be centred around three pillars: Trust, Clarity, and Outcomes-focus. Organisations transitioning from assigned Second-Generation workplaces to unassigned Third-Generation workplaces as part of their Hybrid Working strategy typically encounter a drastic physical workplace change and also require a cultural and leadership/management practice change as part of the workplace change management process. Regardless of the change, these organisations will have to partially or fully undergo an implementation and workplace change management process (Savills Real Estate Advisory, 2020). The implementation process of an ABW office can be summarised in Sim and Heywood’s (2019) paper. A recent study on the implementation process of ABW offices found the importance of organisations pursuing a business-driven strategy as they result in superior employee acceptance (Sim & Heywood, 2023). Business-driven projects are more user-centric aiming for a more effective work environment as opposed to Cost-driven projects that aimed to produce the same

90  E. Sim results without reducing effectiveness (Becker et al., 1994). The worksettings designed into the ABW office must support the affordances employees intend to conduct well to incentivise employees to use various worksettings. There is unlikely to be a one-size fits all physical and functional solution (such as workplace guidelines) within organisations as these may vary depending on:

• Employees’ type of work (Lang et al., 2020; Savills Real Estate Advisory, 2020); • Activities taken up in their role on a daily basis (Lang et al., 2020; Savills Real Estate Advisory, 2020);

• Employees’ age group or stage in their career that may affect their ability to work independently (Lang et al., 2020; Savills Real Estate Advisory, 2020);

• Ability to set up a safe home office to work from home. This determines whether there

are hazards compromising their physical health and whether they have a spare room or office such that there is a physical separation between their work and personal life affecting their mental health and work-life balance. A recent study found that more than 85% of respondents between 18 and 24 years old were lacking a physical separation (Lang et al., 2020); • Personality types (need for socialising) (Lang et al., 2020; Savills Real Estate Advisory, 2020); and • Distance to commute to work and culture (Lang et al., 2020; Savills Real Estate Advisory, 2020). The economic impact of COVID-19 across sectors differs, but one unavoidable truth is that COVID-19 has shifted the way office workers work and workplace strategy and design should respond to this. Conclusion The post-pandemic office workplace is challenging to define as it varies from organisation, cultures, strategies, and management philosophy. Defining the post-pandemic workplace can be seen as a challenge or more importantly, an opportunity for organisations to redefine what Productivity means, how productivity can be supported differently through its translation into the way they work and their work strategy and culture. There is no one-size-fits-all Hybrid Working solution but at the very least, all organisations should be reflecting on how well their worksettings are supporting the activities that employees intend to conduct in the office and whether their current way of working aligns with the organisation’s vision and how their people would like to work to promote employee wellbeing. References Allen, T. J., & Gerstberger, P. G. (1973). A field experiment to improve communication in product engineering department: the nonterritorial office. Human Factors, 15(5), 487–498. https://doi.org/10.1177/ 001872087301500505 Aronoff, S., & Kaplan, A. G. (1995). Total workplace performance: rethinking the office environment. Ottawa: WDL Publications, Pennsylvania State University. Becker, F., Quinn, K. L., Rappaport, A. J., & Sims, W. R. (1994). The ecology of new ways of working implementing innovative workplaces: organizational implications of different strategies. New York: International Workplace Studies Program.

Workplace repositioning post-pandemic 91 Bedford, M., & Tong, D. (1997). Planning for diversity: new structures that reflect the past. Reinventing the workplace. Oxford: Architectural Press, 64–75. Brand, S. (1994). How buildings learn: what happens after they’re built. New York: Penguin. Brunia, S., De Been, I., & Voordt, T. J. M. (2016). Accommodating new ways of working: lessons from best practices and worst cases. Journal of Corporate Real Estate, 18(1), 30–47. Budd, C. (2001). The office: 1950 to the present. In The offices. Workspheres – design and contemporary work style (pp. 26–35), P. Antonelli (ed.). New York: The Museum of Modern Art. Candido, C., Zhang, J., Kim, J., Dear, R. D., Thomas, L., Strapasson, P., & Joko, C. (2016). Impact of workspace layout on occupant satisfaction, perceived health and productivity. In 9th Windsor conference: making comfort relevant (pp. 7–10). Cumberland Lodge, Windsor, UK: Network for Comfort and Energy Use in Buildings. Dean, A. (2022). Team anywhere|Atlassian presents: work life 22. YouTube channel. Retrieved 3 March 2023 from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2x2mbb9KfTg Dexter (2022). ‘Workers want luxury: rising office vacancies lead to “arms race”’, The Age. Available at: https://www.theage.com.au/national/victoria/workers-want-luxury-rising-office-vacancies-lead-toarms-race-20220802-p5b6na.html Duerksen, G. J. (2012). Winning the war for talent. International Food and Agribusiness Management Review, 15(Special Issue A), 13–17. Duffy, F. (1969). Office landscaping: a new approach to office planning: layout planning in the landscaped office. London: Anbar Publications. Duffy, F., Cave, C., & Worthington, J. (2013). Planning office space [electronic resource]. Burlington: Elsevier Science. Ekstrand, M. (2016). Walk the talk: creating a collaborative culture in an activity-based workplace. In CIB Facilities Management Conference, 283–295. Fair Work Ombudsman. (n.d.). Flexible working arrangements. Fair Work Ombudsman. Retrieved from https://www.fairwork.gov.au/employment-conditions/flexibility-in-the-workplace/flexible-workingarrangements Forty, A. A. (1986). Taylorism and modern architecture. Transactions, 9(1), 73–81. Freeman. (2022). ‘PCA office vacancy market commentary – tenants unite in flight to quality quest’, Cushman and Wakefield. Available at: https://www.cushmanwakefield.com/en/australia/news/2022/08/ pca-office-vacancy-market-commentary Gatter, L. S. (1982). The office: an analysis of the evolution of a workplace. Cambridge, MA: Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Haigh, G. (2012). The office: a hardworking history (Vol. 142). Carlton, Vic: The Miegunyah Press. Henry, D., Hunt, S., & Marasco, J. (2020). The future of the office space. Colliers Insights (Vol. Office). https://doi.org/10.1177/0013916582145006 Higgins, E., Joosten, M., Li, I., & Mesa, G. (2022). On the leading edge of hybrid: lessons from the Australian experience. Veldhoen + Company. https://www.veldhoencompany.com/hybrid-workingreport-au-experience Kuang, C. (2009). ‘Design: Office Spaces’, Wired. pp. 54. Available at: https://ezp.lib.unimelb.edu.au/login? url=https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=aci&AN=42098787&site=eds-live& scope=site Laing, A. (1997). ‘New patterns of work: the design of the office’, Reinventing the workplace (pp. 23–38). Oxford: Architectural Press. Laker, B., Pereira, V., Malik, A., & Soga, L. (2022, March). Dear manager, you’re holding too many meetings. Harvard Business Review. Retrieved from https://hbr.org/2022/03/dear-manager-youreholding-too-many-meetings Lang, S., Smith, Y. R., Wightman, N., & Gardner, D. (2020). Office FiT survey results: the office is vital, but needs to change. Retrieved from https://pdf.savills.com/documents/Savills-Office-FiT-SurveyResults_.pdf

92  E. Sim Marzban, S., Durakovic, I., Candido, C., & Mackey, M. (2021). Learning to work from home: Experience of Australian workers and organizational representatives during the first Covid-19 lockdowns. Journal of Corporate Real Estate, 23(3), 203–222. Melbourne Institute (2020). ‘Taking the pulse of the nation’, Research Insights, 14–18 September 2020. Available at: https://melbourneinstitute.unimelb.edu.au/__data/assets/pdf_file/0003/3504612/Takingthe-Pulse-of-the-Nation-14-18-September.pdf Monique Arkesteijn. (2019). Corporate real estate alignment. A+BE: Architecture and the Built Environment, 9(12). doi:10.7480/abe.2019.12.4126. Nenonen, I. K. S. (2016). Typologies for co-working places in Finland – what and how? Facilities, 34(5/6), 302–313. Neufert, E., Neufert, P., & Kister, J. (2012). Architects’ data (4th ed.). Chichester, West Sussex; Ames, Iowa: Wiley-Blackwell. Retrieved from https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&AuthType= sso&db=cat00006a&AN=melb.b4364253&site=eds-live&scope=site Ortony, A., Clore, G. L., & Foss, M. A. (1987). The referential structure of the affective Lexicon. Cognitive Science, 11, 341–364. Productivity Commission (2021) ‘Working from home’, Research Paper September 2021. Available at: https://www.pc.gov.au/research/completed/working-from-home/working-from-home.pdf Savills. (2020). The immediate and longer term impacts of Covid-19 on the workplace. Retrieved from https://www.savills.com.au/publications-pdf/office-fit-global-occupiers-v2.pdf Savills Real Estate Advisory. (2020). Adapt: easing back to the office. Retrieved from https://www.savills. com.au/publications-pdf/office-fit-easingbackin-v2.pdf Sim, E. (2021). Organisations’ and employees’ acceptance of activity based working (ABW) offices: an examination on the throughput and outputs. Available at: https://discovery.ebsco.com/linkprocessor/ plink?id=65381f8b-4c1d-3276-8fcd-50a1eaec5b26 (Accessed: 27 September 2022). Sim, E., & Heywood, C. (2019). Activity Based Working Offices: One Office Type Implemented Three Ways. 25th Annual Pacific-Rim Real Estate Society Conference, 14–16 January 2019. Sim, E., & Heywood, C. (2023). Employees’ Acceptance of Varying Activity Based Workplace Implementation Strategies. 29th Annual Pacific Rim Real Estate Society Conference, 15–19 January 2023. (Pending acceptance). https://www.prres.org/conference-2023#proceedings Standaert, W., Muylle, S., & Basu, A. (2021). How shall we meet? Understanding the importance of meeting mode capabilities for different meeting objectives. Information & Management, 58(1), 103324. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.im.2020.103324 Stone, P. J., & Luchetti, R. (1985). Your office is where you are. Harvard Business Review, 63(2), 102–117. Sundstrom, E., & Sundstrom, M. G. (1986). Work places: the psychology of the physical environment in offices and factories. Cambridge University Press. Thorpe, G., & Alaterou, M. (2021) ‘Changing places: how hybrid working is rewriting the rule book’, PWC The Future of Work. Available at: https://www.pwc.com.au/future-of-work-design-for-the-future/ changing-places-hybrid-working.html Veldhoen + Company. (n.d.). What is hot desking? Retrieved 14 June 2016 from http://www. veldhoencompany.com/en/publications/publication/1841/what-is-hot-desking/ Warner, L. (2013) Activity based working: impact on the Sydney CBD Office Market. https://cdn2.hubspot. net/hubfs/2095495/propertycouncil/Posts/Advocacy%20Submissions/131203%20PCA%20JLL%20 ABW%20Report.pdf Wyllie, T., Greene, M., Nagrath, R., & Town, A. (2012). Activity based working. Retrieved from http:// www.jll.com.au/australia/en-au/Documents/jll-au-activity-based-working-2012.pdf

8

Creativity in sustainable finance Growth of green instruments Kruti Upadhyay and Raghu Dharmapuri Tirumala

Green infrastructure: A background Infrastructure plays a very important role, particularly when countries have struggled to cope with the pandemic since early 2020 and are looking to achieve sustainable development goals (SDGs). Compounding that, by 2030, 60% of the world’s population will be residing in urban areas, but 60% of the infrastructure required has not been built yet (UN, 2018). Infrastructure developed for future use must also support the environment and social aspects of society. As estimated by OECD, approximately a 10% increase in annual investment for infrastructure development will be required to meet the Paris Climate Agreement goals (OECD, 2017). Energy, transport, and water sector infrastructure jointly account for 60% of the world’s carbon emissions (OECD, 2020). It is important to configure innovative financing mechanisms that can help achieve the SDGs, particularly as the decade of delivery of SDGs has started and with the constrained public finances across the globe (OECD, 2020). More than two decades have passed since the introduction of the term green infrastructure, though many different interpretations exist. While this concept finds its roots in the 19th and 20th centuries, the term green infrastructure was introduced by Benedict and McMahon (2002). They defined green infrastructure as an ‘interconnected network of green space that conserves natural ecosystem values and functions and provides associated benefits to human populations’ (Benedict & McMohan, 2002). Some widely accepted definitions of green infrastructure come from European Environment Agency (EEA), European Commission, and Energy Protection Agency (EPA). Green infrastructure definitions include many common features: (i) it delivers more than one functionality, (ii) it encourages the use of resources and processes in a more sustainable and efficient way, (iii) it improves the quality of life and the environment, (iv) it can be viewed as an interconnected network of many ecosystem services that would help in climate adaption and mitigation. According to the International Capital Markets Association (ICMA), green infrastructure projects are typically from ‘renewable energy, energy efficiency, pollution prevention and control, environmentally sustainable management of living natural resources and land use – waste management, terrestrial and aquatic biodiversity conservation, clean transportation (electric, hybrid, public, rail, non-motorised, multimodal, infrastructure for clean energy vehicles, reduction of emissions), sustainable water and wastewater management, climate change adaptation, eco-efficient and circular economy adapted products, production technologies and processes and green buildings’ sectors (ICMA – International Capital Market Association, 2018). Some of the well-known examples in daily use include permeable pavements and pavement parking (pavements that allow the rainwater to get absorbed by the soil, and help reduce the intensity of floodings. A similar arrangement in pavement parking also helps to cool down the surrounding environment) (Upper Midwest Water Science Center, 2019) and DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-9

94  K. Upadhyay and R. D. Tirumala encourages people to commute by bicycle. Apart from emission reduction, this non-motorised transport initiative is expected to deliver socio-economic return of approximately 19%, reduce annual sick days to 34,000 days, and reduce the number of car rides by 1.4 million during rush hours (Hubert, 2021). Green infrastructure is receiving international attention considering the benefits it provides. Implementing greener projects will improve the chance of achieving SDGs and combating climate change-related issues (Sachs et al., 2019). However, this comes with a price to be paid for the implementation, as a huge financing gap must be bridged. As per IFC estimates, the investments required to meet SDGs of the 21 emerging countries from 2016 to 2030 is USD 23 trillion (Kludovacz et al., 2018). It is difficult to mobilise such a large sum quickly; hence, it is necessary to make a fundamental shift in the financial sector to support the green infrastructure (Berensmann & Lindenberg, 2016). The post global financial crisis investments have not picked up the way they should have and due to limitations of the policy actions relating to long-term infrastructure financing (Sachs et al., 2019). Even though green infrastructure represents a fraction of the overall investment requirements, the gap is huge. However, there is a consensus that green financing is the need of the hour to raise funds to develop green infrastructure, which in turn requires developing innovative financial instruments that can help reduce the existing financing gap (Berensmann et al., 2017; Hickman, 2015; Kludovacz et al., 2018; Sachs et al., 2019). It is estimated that if green infrastructure investments are made on time, then benefits up to USD 4.1 billion can be reaped by 2030 (GCA, 2019). Exponential growth of green finance Industry stakeholders, representing 187 institutions with assets under management (AUM) of USD 13 trillion, acknowledged the need to tackle the challenges posed by climate change at the Copenhagen Summit in the year 2009. Many other institutions subsequently joined to support the cause and recognised the urgency to take steps to handle the impacts due to climate change. This awareness led to efforts to create common frameworks for identifying the resources for combating climate change-related issues (CBI, 2012). Another push for the sector came from the US Environment Protection Agency in 2014, which committed to reducing carbon emissions by 30% by 2030 from their 2005 levels (Eckhouse, 2014). A general international boost was witnessed in 2015 with the countries’ adoption of the Paris Agreement. The corporate stakeholders have begun to acknowledge their role as one of the responsible stakeholders, resulting in their opting for green business principles and driving the demand for green finance instruments (Bhattacharyya, 2021). ICMA defines green finance as ‘broader than Climate Finance in that it also addresses other environmental objectives such as natural resource conservation, biodiversity conservation, and pollution prevention and control’ (ICMA, 2020). Green finance is ‘a positive shift in the global economy’s transition to sustainability through the financing of public and private green investments and public policies that support green initiatives’ (Berensmann & Lindenberg, 2016). The global green finance, including the green bonds, loans, and equity funding, has increased tenfold from USD 5.2 billion in 2012 to about USD 540.6 billion in 2021 (Reuters, 2022). The climate finance fundraising is much larger, including different instruments, as mentioned in the Figure 8.1(a and b). The Figure 8.1(a) indicates the total climate finance growth from 2012 to 2020. Figure 8.1(b) presents the share of various instruments in 2019–2020. The most prominent instruments are balance sheet financing and the project level market rate debt. Climate Bonds Initiative began to categorise the bonds depending on use of proceeds and their alignment with climate themes, heralding the journey of labelled and non-labelled green

Creativity in sustainable finance  95

Figure 8.1  (a and b) Global climate finance growth (USD billion). Source: Authors based on Climate Policy Initiative (CPI), 2018, 2020, 2021.

bonds (CBI, 2012). Various categories of bonds have been introduced namely Green, Social and Sustainability, Transition and Sustainability linked bonds. At the end of 2021, the cumulative total labelled bond issuance touched USD 2.8 trillion, with the year 2021 (USD 1.1 trillion of fresh issuance) contributing to approximately 39% of the cumulative bond issuance (Harrison et al., 2022). For the year 2021, green bonds issuance stood at USD 523.7 billion, almost 75% higher than year 2020 issuance (Harrison et al., 2022). This capital inflow has been spread across different countries and sectors. The predominant issuances were from Europe and the Americas. Outside of that, China and India dominated the bond issuances. The sectors that attracted the most attention include renewable energy, buildings, and transport. The issuances that target other sectors are relatively much lower. The entities participating in green finance cover the entire gamut of the corporate sector, public sector, banks, and financial institutions. For instance, in Asia, Asian Development Bank has been very active in supporting green infrastructure projects. It has supported projects such as Cambodia Solar Park Project in 2019 (total investment of USD 26.7 million) and Waste to Energy Project in Greater Male (total investment of USD 151.13 million). ADB has supported transition bond issuance to Indonesia and blue bond issuance to the Philippines (Mehta & Andrich, 2021). ADB launched ASEAN Catalytic Green Finance Facility (ACGF) in 2019 to accelerate the region’s green project implementation (ADB, 2020). In India, green finance is heavily focused on renewable energy projects, sustainable transport, hydropower projects, agriculture, land use, and other ecosystem-based projects (Ghosh et al., 2021). For the financial years 2016 to 2018, green finance flows in India stood at USD 38 billion, and most of the issuances were by public sector corporations, domestic commercial banks, and the government (Acharya et al., 2020). In the Middle East region, green bonds issuance has reached the mark of USD 6.4 billion. Institutions such as Green Climate Fund (GCF), Clean Technology Fund (CTF), and Global Environmental Facility (GEF) are leading the way and have provided a total resource pool of USD 1317 billion from 2003 to 2019 (Watson & Schalatek, 2020). In the Latin America region, ‘Green Finance for Latin America and the Caribbean’ platform was established in 2016 to provide information and knowledge about green financing (GFL, 2022). Since 2003, different multilateral funds have approved USD 5 billion for 550 projects for the region. GCF has approved 30 new projects worth USD 811 million and provided approximately 91% of the funding for these projects (Watson

96  K. Upadhyay and R. D. Tirumala et  al., 2022a). In the Sub-Saharan Africa region, GCF, CTF, GEF, and the Least Developed Countries Fund have provided the largest contributions to green finance and have approved USD 6.6 billion for 900 projects and various programmes since 2003 (Watson et al., 2022b). Innovative financial instruments The need to develop innovative financial instruments is well acknowledged at various levels in the last few years and new instruments are being introduced quickly (Kazlauskiene & Draksaite, 2020). The more popular and creative instruments include carbon credits, concessional finance, different thematic bonds (green bonds), and the broader blended finance arena. Carbon credits

Carbon credit is an innovative financing mechanism that allows stakeholders worldwide to contribute towards reducing carbon emissions through trading on various international exchanges. In this system, the carbon credit buyer, who needs to offset its carbon emissions (generated from its business activities), buys ‘carbon credits’ from entities who wish to implement climate friendly projects but are constrained by the lack of capital. This mechanism has an internationally accepted emissions measurement system (1 carbon credit is equivalent to 1 tonne of CO2 emission), and the credits are traded publicly (Sawhney, 2022; World Bank, 2022a). As per the World Bank report on Carbon Pricing, 68 different carbon pricing instruments have been implemented. These instruments also include taxes and emission trading systems. Carbon credit markets picked up in 2000 and faced a downtrend in 2012 due to the Clean Development Mechanism (CDM) collapse. They again gained pace post the Paris Climate Agreement (Sankar, 2020). It is expected that the carbon credit market will get the much-required push as Article 6 of the Paris Agreement got approved at CoP26 summit held in Glasgow, Scotland, and many corporates promising to transition to net zero (IHS Markit, 2022). In 2021, exchange-traded prices of carbon credits reached higher levels in the EU, the Republic of Korea, the USA, and New Zealand (World Bank, 2022b). The innovations in the structuring allowed for voluntary carbon credits, whose market reached the USD 1 billion mark in 2021 (IHS Markit, 2022). In 2021, transaction volume was approximately 362 million credits which is 92% higher than the transaction volume of 2020 (World Bank, 2022b). Concessional finance

The main differentiating features of concessional finance against conventional debt are comparatively lower rates, more flexible timelines, and ‘softer’ repayment terms and conditions. International financial institutions and multilateral funds usually provide this support to help developing nations achieve their climate change-related goals and targets. Loans, grants, and, in some cases, equity investments are used to provide concessional finance (Bhattacharyya, 2021; Roberta & Marco, 2020; UNESCAP, 2018). Depending on the goals and requirements of the developing nation, these instruments can be customised. It can take the form of a grant (technical assistance) for developing the region’s policies that help the industry to move towards decarbonisation (Durate, 2021). For instance, Inter-American Development Bank (IADB) provides concessional financing to some of its most vulnerable member countries. Currently, IADB provides concessional financing, partially covering the costs, in the form of blended loans to Honduras, Guyana, and Nicaragua. However, Haiti receives only grants (IADB, 2022).

Creativity in sustainable finance  97 Concessional financing can be structured creatively and provides a lot of flexibility in the form of ‘softer’ terms and conditions, which makes this innovative financial instrument more attractive for developing nations. Bonds

The most common instruments used to raise financing for green projects are various thematic bonds (green bonds, sustainability bonds, climate bonds, social bonds, sustainability linked bonds, blue bonds, transition bonds, and SDG bonds). Green bonds have emerged as one of the most innovative green financial instruments due to their defined use of proceeds for green investments (Maltais & Nykvist, 2021; Piñeiro-Chousa et al., 2022;) and have had exponential growth over the past decade (Environmental Finance, 2022). The innovative feature of the green bond is its unique use of proceeds. The funds raised through green bonds (proceeds) are utilised to provide full or partial capital support to green projects; these proceeds are not utilised to manage the working capital needs (OECD, 2016). Though with varied adoption rates, green bonds have been adopted rapidly worldwide in different sectors. Green bonds also facilitated diverting the much-needed debt financing to the sectors which deal with climate change-related issues (Flaherty et al., 2017). Figure 8.2 presents the green bond issuance over the last decade, which has a rather spectacular growth over the last decade. The other thematic bonds have also witnessed rapid adoption. The proceeds from the blue bonds are used for projects which improve ocean health and other ocean-related activities. Social bonds focus on sectors such as affordable housing, financial inclusion, gender equality, and health & education. Sustainability bond proceeds are utilised for projects delivering environmental and social impacts. Transition bond proceeds are used for financing credible transition efforts to decarbonise and align with net zero targets. In the case of sustainabilitylinked loans, achievement of key performance indicators is linked to the financial payouts. Payments vary depending on the level of the pre-defined targets achieved. The financial payouts

Figure 8.2  Green bond issuance in USD billion. Source: Authors compilation from yearly reports of Climate Bond Initiative.

98  K. Upadhyay and R. D. Tirumala Table 8.1  Different labelled bonds in Q1 of 2022 Bond labels

USD million

% of total issuance

Green bonds Green sustainability-linked bond Social bond Sustainability bond Sustainability-linked bond Transition bond Total

98,125 300 34,472 34,914 23,960 265 192,036

51.1% 0.16% 17.95% 18.18% 12.48% 0.14% 100%

Source: Environmental Finance Data (2022).

of these sustainability linked bonds change based on whether the key performance indicators meet the pre-agreed sustainability performance targets (CBI, 2022; Mathew & Robertson, 2021; Moody’s, 2021). Table 8.1 presents the share of different thematic bonds in Q1 2022. These bonds have been issued by the governments, banks, multilateral agencies or private investment institutions. In the year 2018, the bonds relevant for compliance of SDG requirements emerged with distinction being ‘green’, ‘sustainability’, or ‘social’ depending on the end use of the funds raised under these categories of bonds. This made it easier for investors to identify bonds that comply with their investment criteria. BBVA became a frontrunner in this field, with a EUR1bn green bond issued under its newly developed SDG Bond Framework (CBI, 2019). Bonds issued under the social theme saw the sharpest increase, as their volume quadrupled in H1 2020 versus H1 2020 from USD36.8 billion to USD146.6 billion. Sustainability bond issuance also recorded 20% of year-on-year growth. Social bonds related specifically to funding COVID-19 mitigation and recovery were not issued in the first half of this year, while in the first half of 2020, they amounted to USD88 billion (CBI, 2021). The market for these thematic bonds is likely to grow as stakeholders become more empathetic towards environment and sustainability and are eager to make a difference by incorporating innovative means of structuring and issue such instruments. Table 8.2 presents the share of different sectors in bond issuances over the last five years. The sectors of energy, building, and transport have attracted the highest share of bond use proceeds from 2017 to 2021. The share of all the other green sectors is substantially lower. Figure 8.3 presents the sector-wise financing used for the year 2019–2020. Energy systems and transport have garnered over 80% of the green bond issuances. The sectoral characteristics and the policy frameworks in different countries influence whether the private capital flows to them. For example, in the case of water sector projects, initial investments are very high and the pay-back time horizon is in the range of 20–30 years. Some investors do not have such a Table 8.2  Sector-wise use of bond proceeds Year

Energy, transport, and building

Other sectors

2017 2018 2019 2020 2021

78% 76% (E – 52%, B – 13%, T – 11%) 82%(E – 32%, B – 30%, T – 20%) 85% 81%

22% 24% 18% 15% 19%

E – Energy; B – Buildings; T – Transport. Source: Authors compilation from yearly reports of Climate Bond Initiative.

Creativity in sustainable finance  99

Figure 8.3  Sector wise climate finance allocation for 2019–2020. Source: Authors based on CPI (2021).

long-term investment horizon, and this mismatch of expectations makes the sector less attractive for the investors (OECD, 2022b). The policy environment is still not fully conducive to encouraging investments in green infrastructure projects over conventional ones. The fossil fuel usage is still encouraged, or the carbon pricing is insufficient to nudge a transformation. There is a lack of transparent policy frameworks that help the newly developed technologies achieve competitiveness (Hickman, 2015), leading to less private capital flowing into the sectors. The taxonomies and frameworks developed in the last decade are helping guide the investments into the green, social, and sustainability sectors. These frameworks provide a generally accepted method of use of proceeds, selecting projects, monitoring, verifying, and reporting the performance. However, the process and the understanding are not uniform across all the sectors. For example, in agriculture, there is a lack of awareness about how adopting specific agriculture practices can help attract green financing to the sector (Havemann et al., 2020). In some instances, the regulatory policies may unintentionally lead to investment restrictions and accounting. Some might lead to more favourable outcomes in the short term but not benign over a longer period. Suitable financial instruments that catalyse investments coupled with transparent information and data accessibility are needed for assessing transactions and the risks involved (Berensmann & Lindenberg, 2016; Deschryver & Mariz, 2020; Park, 2018; Tolliver et al., 2019). Blended finance

The broader concept of blended finance brings creativity in structuring sustainable finance instruments. The blended finance is defined as ‘the strategic use of development finance for the mobilisation of additional finance towards sustainable development in developing countries’ (OECD, 2022a) and ‘the use of relatively small amounts of concessional donor funds to mitigate specific investment risks and help rebalance risk-reward profiles of pioneering investments that are unable to proceed on strictly commercial terms’ (IFC, 2022). Utilising public funds to generate private resources is the innovation that makes blended finance different (OECD, 2019).

100  K. Upadhyay and R. D. Tirumala

Figure 8.4  Total committed capital through blended finance in USD billion. Source: Authors based on Convergence (2022).

Blended finance is a structuring approach that judiciously uses concessional capital, guarantees (risk guarantees), technical assistance funds, and design stage grant funds (Convergence, 2022). Blended finance attracts various investors, from traditional institutional investors to pension and insurance funds, high net worth individuals, asset managers, and commercial banks (Basile & Dutra, 2019). The growth of blended finance is presented in Figure 8.4. Blended finance solutions are typically used for developing countries. As reported in an OECD survey, 180 participants (funds and facilities) invested approximately USD 7.6 billion in least developed countries. Africa had the largest share of approximately 29% of the AUM (for which data has been considered/available for the survey) (OECD, 2022a). Development banks along with governments make considerable investments in these funds and facilities. Institutional creativity: GCF and ACGF The creativity in green finance can also be seen in how the institutional structures have evolved and the instruments designed. Multilateral/bilateral agencies play an important role in catalysing green finance using innovative instruments (Chaudhury, 2020). Two such entities have been established to combat climate change: the Green Climate Fund (GCF) and ASEAN Catalytic Green Financing Facility (ACGF). Green climate fund (GCF)

GCF was established by the Conference of Parties to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) in 2011. This fund was established to achieve the targets set by the convention. GCF supports low-emission and climate resilient initiatives of the developing nations by helping them to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and in adapting to the climate change impacts while considering the needs of the developing countries, especially the countries which are highly vulnerable to adverse impacts of climate change (GCF, 2021). It is one of the largest multilateral funds dedicated to climate change. It was established to mobilise USD

Creativity in sustainable finance  101 100 billion annually till 2020 by developed countries to support developing nations to address climate change adaption and mitigation activities (José Valverde et al., 2022). For each dollar invested by GCF, another USD 2.5 is estimated to be contributed from the private co-funding (Levaï, 2021). Currently, World Bank serves as a trustee to the fund (GCF, 2021). GCF provides support in the form of concessional loans, grants, guarantees, and equity investments, as seen in the initiatives of the Green Growth Equity Fund and The Acumen Resilient Agriculture Fund.

Green Growth Equity Fund (GGEF) – India Green Growth Equity Fund is a climate focused fund that invests low-carbon transition and climate resilient projects such as renewable energy projects, low carbon transport, energy efficient technologies, and resource conservation (FMO, 2022; GCF, 2022). Through this project, 166 million tonnes of carbon emission is expected to be avoided. Apart from the CO2 reductions, this project also aims to treat and generate additional 5,700 million cubic meters of alternative resources for use by as farmers, households, and businesses (Mercom India, 2021). The total project value is USD 944.5 million, out of which GCF’s share is 14.5% (equity of USD 132.5 million and grant of USD 4.5 million). GCF has disbursed nearly 52% of its commitment in two payments of USD 33 million in December 2021 and USD 38 million in March 2022 (GCF, 2022).

The Acumen Resilient Agriculture Fund (ARAF) ARAF is an equity fund that will provide capital support to African agribusinesses which in turn supports smallholder farmers in adopting climate change. This fund was closed at USD 58 million in June 2021. This fund is sponsored by Acumen, with GCF as an anchor investor, and supported by other development finance institutions including Dutch ­entrepreneurial development bank (FMO), the Soros Economic Development Fund, PROPARCO, IKEA Foundation, Children’s Investment Fund Foundation and Global Social Impact (ARAF, 2022). Acumen Capital Partners which is wholly owned subsidiary of Acumen is responsible of fund management (Acumen, 2021).

ASEAN catalytic green financing facility (ACGF)

ACGF, established in 2019, is an innovative financing mechanism aiming to accelerate green projects in the Southeast Asia region. This facility was established as part of ASEAN Infrastructure Fund’s Green and Inclusive Infrastructure Window. This facility aims to support ASEAN countries to invest in projects which focus on achieving Southeast Asian countries’ climate change goals and sustainable development. ACGF supports ASEAN member countries in terms of technical assistance for identifying and preparing commercially viable green projects and loans for covering capital investment costs. ACGF’s two-pronged approach helps ‘de-risking’ green projects and makes the projects more attractive for private investors. ACGF provides access to more than USD1 billion to ASEAN member countries (ADB, 2019, 2020). A couple

102  K. Upadhyay and R. D. Tirumala of projects that ACGF supported include the EDSA Greenways Project and Agricultural Value Chain Competitiveness and Safety Enhancement Project.

EDSA Greenways Project – Philippines This project aims to improve existing pedestrian facilities in four areas – Balintawak, Cubao, Guadalupe, and Taft mass transit stations – along Epifanio de los Santos Avenue (EDSA) in Metro Manilla. The project aims to improve five kilometres of elevated walkways, which have elevators attached to address the requirements of persons with disabilities, elderly, women, and people with small children. These walkways will be connected with the mass transit station for promoting public transport usage (ADB, 2021b). The total project cost of this project is USD 179.3 million, with ADB’s funding being USD 123 million, AIF commitment under ACGF for this project being USD 15 million. This project was approved in December 2020 (ACGF, 2021).

Agricultural value chain competitiveness and safety enhancement project – Cambodia The project aims to boost the value chains of agricultural products such as cassava, cashew nuts, mangoes, vegetables, and chicken. This project is situated in the provinces of ­Kampong Cham, Kampong Thom, Oddar Meanchey, Preah Vihear, Siem Reap, and Tboung Khmum. The objective is to help the agro-businesses access credit, to foster market links among agricultural cooperatives and agro-enterprises and to make farm-to-market connectivity better (ADB, 2021a). The total project cost is USD 110 million. ADB’s funding for the project is USD 70 million and AIF commitment under ACGF for this project is USD 5 million. This project was approved by ACGF in November 2020 (ACGF, 2021).

Conclusions To tackle the growing concerns on climate change and sustainable practices, all the stakeholders including the governments, financial institutions, corporates, and non-government organisations need to increase their activities and actively seek to adopt newer methods, instruments, and policies. The existing financing gaps for meeting the SDGs and for making the transition to zero carbon economies is a long arduous process that needs cohesive action from all the stakeholders. The supportive initiatives need creative solutions that brings together the financing ecosystem on a common platform (CPI, 2021; OECD, 2022b). The green infrastructure underpins the global sustainable growth, but it is under a potential threat of not having adequate financing options. The aggressive nationally determined contributions and the targets set under the Paris Climate Agreement provide a platform for attracting creative solutions in the green infrastructure arena. The rapid growth of the green finance instruments and their applications provide a glimpse of the potential for mainstreaming these aspects into regular investing practices. The green financing instruments are crucial to tackle the severe challenges posed by climate change, and can play a role of catalyst in making the paradigm shift in how businesses reduce or nullify

Creativity in sustainable finance 103 the negative impacts due to their actions. It is necessary to leverage the existing investor interest to meet the financing requirements (Bhattacharyya, 2021). Necessary policy actions, predefined frameworks for impact measurements, defined revenue streams, and capacity building activities can help make these investments more attractive to the investors. The sustainable and bankable project pipeline development can help investors better evaluate the available projects and allow the governments to identify the sectors that require immediate attention. Although the common taxonomy development is a work in progress, it is necessary to have a common understanding which can help in evaluating the overall progress of the steps taken collectively at the global or national level (Bhattacharyya, 2021; CPI, 2021; Havemann et al., 2020; OECD, 2022b). The overall scale and growth rate of the green finance instruments indicate the potential of creativity in built infrastructure. Funding The funding support of the University of Melbourne through the Early Career Researcher Grant Scheme for this research is gratefully acknowledged. References ACGF. (2021). ASEAN Catalytic Green Finance Facility 2019–2020 Accelerating Green Finance in Southeast Asia. https://www.adb.org/documents/asean-catalytic-green-finance-facility-2019-2020 Acharya, M., Sinha, J., Jain, S., & Padmanabhi, R. (2020). Landscape of Green Finance in India. https:// www.climatepolicyinitiative.org/publication/landscape-of-green-finance/ Acumen. (2021, July 27). Acumen Closes $58 Million Impact Fund, the First to Drive Climate Adaptation for Smallholder Farmers. Acumen. https://acumen.org/blog/acumen-resilient-agriculture-fund/ ADB. (2019). Overview: ASEAN Catalytic Green Finance Facility (ACGF), Asian Development Bank. ADB. https://www.adb.org/what-we-do/funds/asean-catalytic-green-finance-facility/overview ADB. (2020). ASEAN Catalytic Green Finance Facility. https://www.adb.org/sites/default/files/publication/ 544486/asean-catalytic-green-finance-facility.pdf ADB. (2021a, January 16). 50264-002: Agricultural Value Chain Competitiveness and Safety Enhancement Project. Asian Development Bank. https://www.adb.org/projects/50264-002/main ADB. (2021b, September 23). 51117-003: Epifanio de los Santos Avenue Greenways Project. Asian ­Development Bank. https://www.adb.org/projects/51117-003/main ARAF. (2022). ARAF – Acumen Resilient Agriculture Fund. https://arafund.com/ Basile, I., & Dutra, J. (2019). Blended Finance Funds and Facilities: 2018 Survey Results, OECD Development Co-operation Working Papers, No. 59. In OECD iLibrary. https://doi.org/10.1787/806991a2-en. Benedict, M. A., & McMohan, E. T. (2002). Green infrastructure: Smart conservation for the 21st century. Renewable Resources Journal, 20, 12–17. Berensmann, K., & Lindenberg, N. (2016). Green Finance: Actors, Challenges and Policy Recommendations. German Development Institute/Deutsches Institut Für Entwicklungspolitik (DIE) Briefing Paper 23/2016. https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2881922 Berensmann, K., Volz, U., Alloisio Fondazione Eni Enrico Mattei, I., Celine Bak, F., & Bhattacharya Gerd Leipold, A. (2017). Fostering Sustainable Global Growth Through Green Finance-What Role for the G20? www.G20-insights.org Bhattacharyya, R. (2021). Green finance for energy transition, climate action and sustainable development: Overview of concepts, applications, implementation and challenges. Green Finance, 4(1), 1–35. https:// doi.org/10.3934/GF.2022001 CBI. (2012). Bonds and Climate Change The State of the Market in 2012. In Climate Bonds Initiative. https://www.climatebonds.net/files/uploads/2012/05/CB-HSBC_Final_30May12-A3.pdf

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106  K. Upadhyay and R. D. Tirumala Roberta, N., & Marco, P. (2020). Finance for Future. The Role of Multilateral Development Banks in Green Finance [School of Industrial and Information Engineering]. https://www.politesi.polimi.it/handle/ 10589/167178?mode=complete Sachs, J. D., Woo, W. T., Yoshino, N., & Taghizadeh-Hesary, F. (2019). Why Is Green Finance Important? ADBI Working Paper 197. https://doi.org/10.2139/SSRN.3327149 Sankar, G. (2020). Supply and Demand Evolution in the Voluntary Carbon Credit Market. https:// kleinmanenergy.upenn.edu/research/publications/supply-and-demand-evolution-in-the-voluntary-carboncredit-market/ Sawhney, D. (2022, May 18). Millions of India’s Smallholder Farmers Could Soon Access Carbon Credits – That’s Good for Them and the Planet. World Economic Forum. https://www.weforum.org/ agenda/2022/05/carbon-credits-could-help-india-reach-net-zero-2070/ Tolliver, C., Keeley, A. R., & Managi, S. (2019). Green bonds for the Paris agreement and sustainable development goals. Environmental Research Letters, 14(6). https://doi.org/10.1088/1748-9326/AB1118 UN. (2018). The World’s Cities in 2018. https://www.un.org/development/desa/pd/content/worlds-cities2018-data-booklet UNESCAP. (2018). Innovative Instruments for Green Finance. https://www.academia.edu/37039025/ Innovative_instruments_for_Green_Finance Upper Midwest Water Science Center. (2019, March 17). Evaluating the Potential Benefits of Permeable Pavement on the Quantity and Quality of Stormwater Runoff. U.S. Geological Survey. https:// www.usgs.gov/centers/upper-midwest-water-science-center/science/evaluating-potential-benefitspermeable-pavement Watson, C., & Schalatek, L. (2020). Climate Finance Regional Briefing: Middle East and North Africa. https://climatefundsupdate.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/CFF9-2019-ENG-DIGITAL.pdf Watson, C., Schalatek, L., & Evéquoz, A. (2022a). Climate Finance Fundamentals 6: Climate Finance Regional Briefing – Latin America. In Climate Funds. https://us.boell.org/en/2022/03/04/climate-financefundamentals-6-climate-finance-regional-briefing-latin-america Watson, C., Schalatek, L., & Evéquoz, A. (2022b, February). Climate Finance Regional Briefing – SubSaharan Africa. Climate Funds Update, ODI, HBS. https://us.boell.org/en/2022/03/04/climate-financefundamentals-7-climate-finance-regional-briefing-sub-saharan-africa World Bank. (2022a). What Is Carbon Pricing? | Carbon Pricing Dashboard. World Bank. https:// carbonpricingdashboard.worldbank.org/what-carbon-pricing World Bank. (2022b). State and Trends of Carbon Pricing 2022. Washington, DC: World Bank. https:// openknowledge.worldbank.org/entities/publication/a1abead2-de91-5992-bb7a-73d8aaaf767f

9

Creativity in blue economy financing Raghu Dharmapuri Tirumala and Kruti Upadhyay

The blue economy context The UN has termed 2020–2030 a Decade of Action at global, local, and people levels to push towards Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). The availability of an adequate quantum of funds and appropriate forms (instruments) is vital for financing sustainable development (United Nations, 2021). The threat of not delivering on the SDGs is increasingly worrying due to the yawning gap between the requirements of sustainable development and political ambitions, coupled with the availability of development financing. The financing of projects that contribute to the achievement of SDGs has not kept pace with commitments made, which has been exacerbated by the COVID pandemic situation (United Nations, 2021). As per McKinsey’s estimation, there is a gap of USD300 billion for conservation funding (Davies et al., 2016). However, other researchers have estimated this to be a substantially severe gap of almost USD7 trillion (Bos et al., 2015; Mallin et al., 2019; Trucost, 2013), providing an indication of the magnitude of the problem that the world is facing. To bridge this level of gap, a combination of different funding sources is essential. The public sector’s own resources, official development assistance, and grants are the most commonly used sources of conservation financing (Tirumala & Tiwari, 2020). ‘Sustainable Development Goal 14 – Life Under Water’ (using marine resources healthily and sustainably) has attracted widespread attention from various stakeholder groups and is seen as a representative indicator for the overall SDGs (Credit Suisse, 2020). SDG 14 addresses a broad array of sub-sectors, including fisheries, aquaculture, ports, shipping, and various activities that cause ocean/water body pollution. The ‘blue economy’ is defined as ‘… practical ocean-based economic model using green infrastructure and technologies, innovative financing mechanisms, and proactive institutional arrangements for meeting the twin goals of protecting our oceans and coasts and enhancing their potential contribution to sustainable development, including improving human well-being, and reducing environmental risks and ecological scarcities’ (PEMSEA, 2012). If treated as a country, it is estimated that the ocean economy would be the seventh largest economy in the world (WWF, 2014). The market value of coastal, marine resources, and related industries is an estimated USD3 trillion to USD5 trillion, nearly 5% of global GDP (United Nations, 2015). Asia (India and Indonesia being the two larger countries) dominates fish production globally while also contributing to ocean pollution (GEF et al., 2019). The blue economy emphasises the utilisation of ocean resources in a sustainable manner and without doing any harm to its ecosystem while bolstering the growth of humans (Mathew & Robertson, 2021; Schutter & Hicks, 2019; Shiiba et al., 2022). The prominence of the blue economy came to the fore in 2012 at the RIO+20 United N ­ ations (UN) Conference on sustainable development ‘Blue economy’ (UN, 2012). Blue Economy DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-10

108  R. D. Tirumala and K. Upadhyay emerged as a term inspired by the Green Economy (the RIO+20 conference theme) based on the ocean-related activities it supported. (IFLR Correspondent, 2019; Schutter & Hicks, 2019). Another key milestone is the launch of ‘Sustainable Blue Economy Finance Principles’ at the Economist World Ocean Summit 2018. These principles were developed jointly by the European Committee, the World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF), the European Investment Bank, and the International Sustainability Unit (Shiiba et al., 2022). Oceans play a vital role in the carbon cycle by functioning as a carbon sink. Oceans now contain 40% of the human-generated carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. Increasing pollution has adversely affected the ocean’s natural resources and ecosystem services (Deltares et al., 2021). So far, oceans have absorbed almost 90% of the heat caused by increasing greenhouse gas emissions and have taken in approximately 30% of carbon emissions (UNFCCC, 2021). Despite the importance of the ocean economy, ongoing human activities of polluting the water bodies have been impacting the health of oceans negatively at an alarming pace. For instance, almost half of the mangrove forests and coral reefs have been lost in the past 50 years. Global fish stock has already depleted by almost 33%. If this continues, it is estimated that the commercial fishing stock will vanish by 2048 in the Asia-Pacific region. There might be more plastic in oceans than fish in terms of weight by 2050. Also, there are chances that oceans can lose up to 90% of the coral reefs (Wees, 2019). South Asia and South-East Asia contribute to the most ocean pollution, with India and Indonesia being the two larger countries in that region (GEF et al., 2019). Considering the levels of adverse effects on the oceans, the blue economy has attracted much-needed attention. It is necessary to ensure that oceans’ health is maintained so that the world follows the 1.5°C pathways and can fulfil both the SDGs targets and goals set by Paris Climate Agreement (UNFCCC, 2021). The commitments made by various countries under SDG 14 aim towards infrastructure development, inculcating better operational practices, and sectoral reforms, which need to be supported by adequate investments. Blue finance: Creativity in ecosystem development It is estimated that nearly USD5 billion of initial public investment would be needed over the next decade to combat coastal degradation and conserve ocean resources (Thiele & Gerber, 2017). The conventional funding sources that underpin the commitments include official development assistance, public budgets, and multilateral/bilateral agencies (McManus et al., 2019; Wabnitz & Blasiak, 2019). These typical infrastructure funding sources are structured assuming a certain profile of cash flows of the underlying project and have the standard covenants of a security package that guarantees the repayment. Many of the blue economy sectors, and the projects therein, are characterised by lower financial returns even though their economic benefits are substantial. There is a dearth of projects which are investible with suitable deal size and risk-return balance for the capital available. Many ocean-related projects, which generate very low or no returns, require support in terms of grant capital. While some projects may be able to generate financial returns, they are too small, resulting in higher due diligence costs (Sumaila et al., 2021). The traditional methods of financing have not been successful in addressing the concerns of this sector, and hence, the stakeholders need to explore creative solutions. Given the scarcity of public sector resources, it was necessary to develop innovative financial instruments that could support the growth of the blue economy (Shiiba et al., 2022). Newer sources have emerged for the environment and sustainability projects in the recent past, including philanthropic grants (Guggisberg, 2018; Mallin et al., 2019; Vanderklift et al., 2019). The avenues available under green finance are sought to be utilised for funding SDG 14; however, the trends of green finance indicate that SDG 14 sectors did not manage to raise substantial sums (Climate Bonds Initiative, 2019). Though there is a substantial private sector interest in the blue

Creativity in blue economy financing  109 economy, investors and corporates did not jump into this space quickly. As per OOF (2020) report, only 7% of the companies had included SDG 14 related activities in their sustainability reports. As per a survey conducted by RI & Credit Suisse, only 21% of investors had investments in SDG 14 (RI & Credit Suisse, 2020). Most of the blue economy sector projects, when implemented successfully, have substantial economic benefits but might not have the expected financial returns for the private sector. Addressing these challenges requires an ecosystem wide transformation and creative use of systems and processes aligned with the expectations of different stakeholders. There have been innovative changes in the various elements of the blue finance ecosystem, namely (i) stronger articulation of the blue themes in the mandate of the financial institutions, (ii) development of various taxonomies that state how the instruments, particularly the bonds, need to be issued, how the proceeds are used, the monitoring, verification, and reporting of the proceeds of the issuance, (iii) the instruments that have been developed and launched, and (iv) the institutional mechanisms to augment the capacity of the stakeholders and to channel a wide range of investors to the blue economy projects. Blue themes in financial Institutions

The discourse on the blue economy and blue finance has rapidly increased in the last five years (Credit Suisse 2020; Vanderklift et al., 2019) leading to several financial institutions articulating their strategies and changing their systems to have a dedicated window for the sector. The financial institutions can broadly be categorised as multilateral agencies, investment banks and asset management companies (AMCs), and other financial institutions as set out in Figure 9.1. Blue finance has become an integral part of each of these institutional categories.

Figure 9.1  Different categories of blue finance institutions. Source: Authors’ compilation.

110  R. D. Tirumala and K. Upadhyay Table 9.1  Blue economy strategies and principles of multilateral and bilateral development financial institutions Name

Is blue economy defined?

Strategy

Principles

ADB

✓

Green Bond Principles (ADB Bond Framework, 2021)

WB

✓

EIB

✓

UNEP

✓

WWF

✓

Action Plan for Healthy Oceans and Sustainable Blue Economies (ADB, 2021a) Blue Economy Program PROBLUE Umbrella 2.0 (World Bank, 2020) EIB Blue Sustainable Ocean Strategy (Blue SOS) (EIB, 2021) Sustainable Blue Economy Initiative (UNEP FI, 2021) Not specified

NEPAD

✓

Kfw

✓

PEMSEA

✓

The Blue Economy Programme (Karani, 2021) The Clean Oceans Initiative (EIB, 2021) Not specified

UNFCCC

✓

Not specified

Not specified The Sustainable Blue Economy Finance Principles (UNEP FI, 2021) The Sustainable Blue Economy Finance Principles (UNEP FI, 2021) The Sustainable Blue Economy Finance Principles (UNEP FI, 2021) Not specified The Sustainable Blue Economy Finance Principles (UNEP FI, 2021) Industry specific standards followed (Whisnant & Reyes, 2015) Not specified

Source: Authors compilation from the respective institution websites.

Multilateral/bilateral agencies

Multilateral and bilateral development financial institutions have been the traditional sources of financing for various environmental, social, and governance-related initiatives. Most of these agencies focus on creating sustainable economic oceans, i.e., supporting initiatives that enhance benefits generated by various activities like fisheries, transport, shipping, tourism, waste water, solid waste management, stormwater, marine pollution, and trade, etc., in a manner that does not harm the current or future generations. The increasing attention on blue economy required an articulation of their commitment, and many have responded with their strategy or investment guidelines. Table 9.1 presents the details of their blue economy-related strategies and principles. Most of the multilateral and bilateral financial institutions have defined the blue economy and have a strategy containing where they would like to reach in the future. Most of them have also stated their guiding principles for investments. While a few have declared that they would adopt the Sustainable Blue Economy Finance principles of UNEP, a few, like ADB, have drafted their own principles. These are essential for providing clarity, maintaining transparency, and better communication to the stakeholders involved in the blue economy projects or activities. Investment banks, banks and AMCs, and other non-banking financial institutions

These financial institutions (investment banks, banks and AMCs) are largely focused on sustainable fisheries, sustainable tourism, pollution reduction, renewable energy, and protection of the marine ecosystem. Some of them also support carbon offset and reduction of wastewater and solid waste management sectors. Table 9.2 presents the features of a few investment banks and AMCs.

Creativity in blue economy financing  111 Table 9.2  Blue economy strategies and principles of investment banks and AMCs Name

Is blue economy Strategy defined?

Principles

Morgan Stanley Credit Suisse Rockefeller AMC

x x

Not specified The Credit Suisse Rockefeller Ocean Engagement Fund is a listed equities (UCITS) fund, which the group said is the first impact fund to address the UN SDG 14 – Life Below Water (ESGCLARITY, 2020) The ECPI Global ESG Blue Economy index tracks 50 companies from markets worldwide that are leading in the field of sustainable use of ocean resources (BNP Paribas Product Card, 2021) Strategy of the blue fund: Invests primarily in companies which engage in the field of mitigating ocean acidification, reducing marine pollution, conserving and sustaining marine resources & ecosystems usage, sustainable fisheries (DWS Group, 2021) Not specified

BNP Paribas AMC ✓

DWS Group

✓

Development Bank ✓ of Seychelles

Not specified Not Specified

The ECPI Global ESG Blue Economy index tracks 50 companies from markets worldwide that are leading in the field of sustainable use of ocean resources (BNP Paribas Product Card, 2021) Strategy of the blue fund: Invests primarily in companies which engage in the field of mitigating ocean acidification, reducing marine pollution, conserving and sustaining marine resources & ecosystems usage, sustainable fisheries (DWS Group, 2021) Not specified

Source: Authors compilation from the respective institution websites.

The investment banks and the AMCs have also been formulating their strategies for participating in the growth of the blue economy sector. They, however, adopt the best practice guidance of the regulators or statutory authorities wherever applicable. Other institutions

The non-banking financial institutions have a higher focus on sustainable fisheries, reduction in marine pollution, and improving sustainability of port infrastructure and offshore renewable energies sectors. Some also focus on stormwater, wastewater, capacity building, ocean/sea-related policies, and R&D in ocean industries. They have similar features as banking and investment banking compatriots. Table 9.3 presents the features of a few funds and other entities. Taxonomies

A common understanding of what blue finance is and what the constituent instruments mean, along with the processes that must be adopted through its lifecycle, is very important for all stakeholders. However, there are no universally accepted definitions of the blue economy or the blue finance instruments, as each institution has been defining the term in its own context.

112  R. D. Tirumala and K. Upadhyay Table 9.3  Blue economy strategies and principles of funds, NGOs, and accelerators Name

Is blue Strategy economy defined?

Meloy Fund for Sustainable Community Fisheries

✓

Seychelles ✓ Conservation & Climate Adaptation Trust (SeyCCAT) BlueInvest ✓

The Nature Conservancy (TNC) Katapult Ocean

✓ ✓

The Meloy Fund works hand-in-hand with Rare’s global fisheries management program, Fish Forever, in a symbiotic system in which improved governance and the creation of a monetizable asset for local fishers (via exclusive access) enables new economic opportunities; this, in turn, encourages more sustainable long-term fisheries management and an increase in asset value (The Meloy Fund, 2021b)

Principles

1 Fund’s Exclusion List 2 Compliance with all applicable laws on environment, health, safety, social issues, and local company law, with a detailed focus on fisheries 3 IFC’s Environmental and Social Performance Standards 4 The World Bank Group (WBG)/ IFC Environmental Health and Safety (EHS) General Guidelines and relevant sectoral guidelines such as WBG/IFC EHS Guidelines for Aquaculture and for Fish Processing, as applicable 5 Meloy Fund Sustainable Fishery and Aquaculture Standards 6 Corporate Governance practices (ImpactAssets, 2021) Follows its own social and environmental safeguards policy (SeyCCAT, 2021)

SeyCCAT Strategic Plan, as per website, was planned to be completed by the end of 2020 (SeyCCAT, 2021) Not specified Aims to improve access to finance and investment readiness for startups, early-stage businesses, and small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs) active in the blue economy (EIB, 2021) Blue Bonds for Conservation Differs from bonds to bonds – (TNC Blue Bonds, 2021) website does not specify any common principles followed Not specified Not specified

Source: Authors compilation from the respective institution websites.

Taxonomies (and associated guidelines) are needed to improve the ability of various blue economy stakeholders to configure more sustainable financing instruments. These can provide a ­basis for using public and private capital to bridge the investment gap and strengthen the transition to a sustainable blue economy (Tirumala & Tiwari, 2020). In general, the taxonomies address four key elements, namely the use of proceeds, process of project evaluation and selection, management of proceeds, and reporting. Different multilateral/bilateral agencies have attempted to develop relevant, innovative guidelines which can support the growth of the blue economy. Initially, the Green Bond Principles (GBP) of the International Capital Markets Association and the Green Bond Standards of the Climate Bonds Initiative were thought to be adequate for the blue economy. However, these principles do not completely address the blue economy characteristics. The Sustainable Blue

Creativity in blue economy financing  113 Economy Finance Principles of the United Nations Environment Program and the guidelines developed by the Asian Development Bank and the International Finance Corporation are some of the taxonomies under development and are being experimented with (UNEP FI, 2021). The multilateral agencies like UNEP and NEPAD have attempted to highlight the importance of innovative new financial instruments by including them in their sector list of blue economy. The detailing of the taxonomies and the processes can lead to enhanced investor confidence in the sector, and thus, such guidance helps not only catalyse financial resources but also provides a categorisation of the blue projects for guiding institutional support towards the blue economy (IFC, 2022). The standards are required to address the challenge of blue washing. ‘Blue washing’ refers to instances where bonds issued were not actually delivering the required environmental benefits but still were promoted as ‘blue’. Introducing well-accepted standards and taxonomies will create more transparency to bolster investor confidence (Mathew & Robertson, 2021). Innovative instruments

The increased attention to the sector in the last few years has resulted in a range of creative financial instruments and financing mechanisms being configured to support the blue economy (Credit Suisse 2020; Tirumala & Tiwari, 2020). Many multilateral/bilateral development banks have been offering concessional finance to their developing country members. Often, these are blended with private financing sources and come with credit guarantees (Credit Suisse, 2020). The ‘blue bonds’ launched by a few entities in the last few years have garnered much attention due to their creative structures. The proceeds of such bonds aim to help achieve SDG 14 and attract new investor classes such as private and institutional investors, including pension and insurance funds, accelerators, incubators, and governments of landlocked countries as well (Mathew & Robertson, 2021). Blue bonds (labelled as thematic bonds) have been issued by the Government of Seychelles, Nordic Investment Bank, and Bank of China. Table 9.4 provides details on various activities and programs launched by different multilateral/bilateral agencies. They have taken the lead in setting guidelines and providing muchneeded financial support in terms of credit guarantees, technical assistance, or grants. Apart from multilateral/bilateral agencies other financial institutions such as AMCs and Investment banks have contributed to structuring different instruments and mechanisms. DWS group has established a fund that invests in the companies that are working in the blue economy sectors. This fund has an assets under management (AUM) of EUR 309.55 million as of May 2022 (DWS Group, 2022). BNP Paribas AMC introduced BNP Paribas Easy ECPI Global ESG Blue Economy fund in July 2020, which has EUR 218.948 million AUM as of May 2022. This fund selects the securities which are most involved in the sustainable use of ocean resources and have a positive ESG rating as per ECPI’s research (BNP Paribas, 2021) Credit Suisse ­Rockefeller Asset Management (RAM) launched an impact fund focused on SDG 14 – ‘Life Below ­Water’ specifically. This fund has raised USD212 million (ESGCLARITY, 2020). Morgan Stanley has set the target to help to make oceans healthy by working on the prevention, reduction, and removal of 50 million metric tons of plastic waste entering the rivers, oceans, and landfills by 2030. Apart from this, Morgan Stanley has also worked with the World Bank on many occasions to launch blue bonds (Katugampola & Slovik, 2019). The Meloy Fund for Sustainable Community Fisheries is an impact investment fund that focuses on investing in enterprises working in the fisheries and seafood sector to incentivise sustainable fishing practices. This fund has provided grants and technical assistance as well to achieve its objective. This fund has an AUM of USD20 million. (Crunchbase, 2022b; The

114  R. D. Tirumala and K. Upadhyay Table 9.4  Illustrative multilateral agencies’ initiatives Name

Year

Activity/initiative

Amount

ADB

2019

USD5,000 million

WB EIB

2018 2016 2016–2020

Action Plan for Healthy Oceans and Sustainable Blue Economies PROBLUE Sustainable Ocean Fund Sustainable seafood production in the European Union Lending to sustainable ocean projects over the period 2019–2023 The BlueInvest Fund

2019–2023 2020

USD29 million as of fiscal 2019 USD20 million Around USD258.484 million USD3,000 million EUR75 million

Source: Authors compilation based on ADB (2021a, 2021b); ADB Blue Bond (2021); World Bank (2020); and EIB (2021).

Meloy Fund, 2021a). BlueInvest fund was launched in 2020 by the European Commission and European Investment Bank. This fund was launched to help start-ups, early-stage businesses, and SMEs working in blue economy sectors to improve their access to finance and investment readiness. This fund is managed by the European Investment Fund (EC, 2020; EIB, 2021). ­Katapult Ocean, launched in 2018, invests in impact-tech start-ups focusing on the blue economy. They have structured their instruments as impact investment funds and accelerators and have invested in 138 companies from 35 countries. They had raised USD436 million in 7 rounds, including one post-IPO equity round (Crunchbase, 2022a; Katapult Ocean, 2022). A wide array of creative structures like these give a fillip to the investments in the blue economy while allowing the geographically spread investors and in different subsectors to contribute towards ocean sustainability. Table 9.5 lists the blue bond issuances by various agencies. Institutional financing mechanisms

Apart from developing frameworks and issuing blue instruments, a few multilateral agencies have established innovative institutional initiatives focusing on the blue economy. ADB’s Blue SEA Finance Hub aims to provide innovative structuring for financing the blue economy projects. Supported by the ASEAN Catalytic Green Finance Facility, this initiative helps South East Asian governments to access financing for eligible projects which support ocean health. This Table 9.5  Blue bonds Entity

Year

Amount

Coupon

Tenor

Seychelles government Nordic Investment Bank World Bank

2018 2019 2019

USD15 million USD200 million USD10 million

10 Years 5 Years 3 Years

Bank of China Bank of China ADB ADB Belize Government

2020 2020 2021 2021 2021

USD500 million CNY3 billion A$208 million NZ$217 million USD364 million

6.50% 0.37% 2019: 2.35%, 2020: 2.70% 2021: 3.15% 0.95% 3.15% – – Step up structure that starts 1.6 % and maximum 4.47%

Due in 2023 Due in 2022 15 Years 10 Years 9 Years

Source: Authors compilation based on World Bank (2018); Berger et al. (2019); Bos et al. (2015); Piñeiro-Antelo et al. (2019); Tsang and Yeap (2020); ADB (2021b); and West (2021).

Creativity in blue economy financing  115 initiative aims to establish a pipeline of bankable blue projects worth USD300 million supported by ADB by 2024 so as to mobilise financial resources three times the funding provided by ADB from other stakeholders such as governments, other multilateral agencies, institutional investors, and private sector participants for developing and financing blue projects (ADB, 2022a). ADB has launched ‘Blue Bonds Incubator’ in April 2022. This initiative will be supported by ADB’s Asia-Pacific Climate Finance Fund (ACliFF) to fuel the growth of blue bond issuance by sovereign and corporate issuers. This incubator is part of the ADB’s Action Plan for Healthy Oceans and Sustainable Blue Economies initiative launched in 2019 for catalysing sustainable investments in the Asia-Pacific region (ADB, 2022b). Another example of an institutional financing mechanism is the proposed ‘Blue Co’, a sustainable blue economy co-investment facility promoted by the Green Climate Fund (GCF). This facility intends to support countries, particularly the Small Island Developing States (SIDS) region, in fulfilling the targets of SDG 14 and climate change. This facility is expected to provide innovative, flexible instruments by combining concessional debt, grants, equity, and guarantees. This will also help leverage and crowd in more financial resources from private investors. Seychelles blue bond: Creativity in structuring

The USD15 million blue bond issued by The Republic of Seychelles in October 2018, the world’s first, was a prime example of creativity in blue finance (Silver & Campbell, 2018). The bond was issued to finance projects which can contribute to protecting marine resources and bolster the thriving fishing sector of the country (WB, 2018). The bond was issued with a coupon rate of 6.5% and will be redeemed in an equal amount of USD5 million each in three consecutive years starting from 2026 (Tirumala & Tiwari, 2020). As Seychelles has a very small base of taxpayers, there might be liquidity-related challenges arising due to large interest payments. Therefore, this bond issuance was supported by a partial guarantee from the World Bank, and further support was provided by a concessional loan from Global Environment Fund (SeyCCAT-WB-GEF, 2019). Figure 9.2 shows the structure of the Seychelles initiative. The innovation in the bond structure includes the mechanism itself, the partial guarantee by the World Bank, the system changes to ensure that the ‘know your customer’ guidelines are followed and merging a debt-for-nature swap. Seychelle blue bonds can be traded through electronic clearing systems. As per the World Bank policy/covenants, it is required that World Bank knows about of loan transferee’s identity, and in some cases, it may require its approval. This is a requirement to ensure that there are no sanctions on the transferee and to mitigate any illegal activities. However, as the bonds could be traded on electronic clearing systems means that the World Bank is unaware of the background of the bond purchasers and cannot honour its guarantee if called upon. To address this challenge, the World Bank created a ‘Good Actor Regime’, which stipulates that transferee bondholders certify that they meet all the requirements of being a good actor before the guarantee is valid. This creative mechanism allowed the World Bank to maintain its safeguard standards and thus protected it from making guarantee payments to any nonqualifying transferee as per Good Actor Regime (IFLR Correspondent, 2019). Such an innovative guarantee mechanism used by a multilateral agency can be considered as a reference model for providing credit support in facilitating similar transactions (IFLR Correspondent, 2019). The Seychelles government has launched another innovative instrument at the same time (debt for nature swap) and combined the proceeds with the blue bond to support the underlying projects. This swap, implemented with the help of The Nature Conservancy, involves replacing the government debt with gains from the marine conservation efforts. If the government

116  R. D. Tirumala and K. Upadhyay

Figure 9.2  Seychelles Blue bonds. Source: Authors based on Bolliger and John (2020); Pouponneau (2015); and World Bank (2017).

sustainably manages its marine exclusive economic zone, its debt will reduce, freeing funds. The government established a trust fund, the Seychelles Conservation and Climate Adaptation Trust (SeyCCAT), jointly managed with the Development Bank of Seychelles (DBS), which further created Grant Fund and Investment Fund to support the underlying projects. This innovative use of financing structures, collaboration of numerous partners, and the application to a niche sector that has a substantial contribution to the SDGs bode well for further creative endeavours in the built environment industry. Conclusions Blue economy as a research area has become prominent in the recent past. It is of immense policy, funding, and academic interest of the governments, multilateral and bilateral development agencies, non-government, private sector, and universities. It is a cross-disciplinary theme emanating from the choices made for providing land, real estate, water, and waste management, which are key elements of the built environment. It is a new asset class with growing interest from real estate portfolio investors (Credit Suisse, 2020) similar to other asset classes such as student accommodation, hotels, service stations, data centres, schools, and hospitals. Academic research in understanding these asset classes is in its early stages and provides immense potential to lead pathbreaking and impactful research. The creativity in structuring the financing mechanisms, instruments (Wees, 2019), project implementation models (Claes et al., 2022; ­Shiiba et al., 2022), and partnerships provide pointers for other more prominent built

Creativity in blue economy financing  117 environment sectors. The transparency ushered by the taxonomies, principles, and use of proceeds can enhance the level of trust, and blue finance instruments may attract more attention from investors, thus transitioning to the ‘future we want’ (United Nations, 2012). Funding The funding support of the University of Melbourne through the Early Career Researcher Grant Scheme for this research is gratefully acknowledged. References ADB Blue Bond. (2021). ADB Blue Bonds. www.adb.org/investors ADB Bond Framework. (2021, September). Green and Blue Bond Framework. Asian Development Bank. https://www.adb.org/sites/default/files/publication/731026/adb-green-blue-bond-framework.pdf ADB. (2021a). Our Approach Focus Areas Investing in Sustainable Marine Economies for Poverty ­Alleviation in Asia and the Pacific Action Plan for Healthy Oceans Financing Initiative Blue Economy Pollution Control Sustainable Infrastructure Ecosystem Management. Asian Development Bank. https:// www.adb.org/sites/default/files/related/145036/Action%20Plan%20for%20Healthy%20Oceans%20 and%20Sustainable%20Blue%20Economies.pdf ADB. (2021b, September 10). ADB Issues First Blue Bond for Ocean Investments. Asian Development Bank. https://www.adb.org/news/adb-issues-first-blue-bond-ocean-investments ADB. (2022a). Blue Southeast Asia Finance Hub. Asian Development Bank. https://www.adb.org/whatwe-do/themes/environment/bluesea ADB. (2022b, April 13). ADB Launches First Blue Bond Incubator to Boost Ocean Investment | Asian ­Development Bank. Asian Development Bank. https://www.adb.org/news/adb-launches-first-blue-bondincubator-boost-ocean-investment Berger, M. F., Caruso, V., & Peterson, E. (2019). An updated orientation to marine conservation funding flows. Marine Policy, 107, 103497. https://doi.org/10.1016/J.MARPOL.2019.04.001 BNP Paribas. (2021, March 29). BNP Paribas Easy ECPI Global ESG Blue Economy Full Prospectus. BNP Paribas Asset Management. https://www.easy.bnpparibas.fr/professional-professional/fundsheet/ na/bnp-paribas-easy-ecpi-global-esg-blue-economy-ucits-etf-c-lu2194447293/?tab=documents BNP Paribas Product Card. (2021). BNP Paribas Easy ECPI Global ESG Blue Economy UCITS ETF Product Card. https://docfinder.bnpparibas-am.com/api/files/ccec5f18-5ab4-4386-90cf-54d7d44abca2/ 1536 Bolliger, A., & John, P. (2020). Seychelles: Beyond Dramatic Imagery. International Collective in Support of Fishworkers (ICSF) Trust. http://hdl.handle.net/1834/41223 Bos, M., Pressey, R. L., & Stoeckl, N. (2015). Marine Conservation Finance: The Need for and Scope of an Emerging Field. Ocean and Coastal Management. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ocecoaman.2015.06.021 Claes, J., Hopman, D., Jaeger, G., & Rogers, M. (2022). Blue Carbon: The Potential of Coastal and Oceanic Climate Action. In McKinsey & Company. https://www.mckinsey.com/business-functions/ sustainability/our-insights/blue-carbon-the-potential-of-coastal-and-oceanic-climate-action# Climate Bonds Initiative. (2019). Green Bonds the State of the Market 2018. https://www.climatebonds. net/ Credit Suisse. (2020). Investors and the Blue Economy. https://www.esg-data.com/blue-economy Crunchbase. (2022a). Katapult – Funding, Financials, Valuation & Investors. Crunchbase. https://www. crunchbase.com/organization/cognical/company_financials Crunchbase. (2022b). The Meloy Fund – Crunchbase Investor Profile & Investments. Crunchbase. https:// www.crunchbase.com/organization/the-meloy-fund Davies, R., Engel, H., Käppeli, J., & Wintner, T. (2016). Taking Conservation Finance to Scale. https:// www.mckinsey.com/~/media/McKinsey/Business Functions/Sustainability/Our Insights/Taking conservation finance to scale/Taking-conservation-finance-to-scale.ashx

118  R. D. Tirumala and K. Upadhyay Deltares, ECORYS, European Climate, Infrastructure and Environment Executive Agency (European Commission), & Pescares Italia (2021). Sustainability criteria for the blue economy – Publications ­Office of the EU. EU Publications. https://doi.org/10.2826/399476 DWS Group. (2021, June 2). DWS Concept ESG Blue Economy: Equity Fund Focuses on Ocean Protection. DWS Group. https://www.dws.com/Our-Profile/media/media-releases/dws-concept-esg-blueeconomy-equity-fund-focuses-on-ocean-protection/ DWS Group. (2022). DWS Concept ESG Blue Economy TFC. DWS Group. https://funds.dws.com/en-ch/ equity-funds/lu2306921573-dws-concept-esg-blue-economy-tfc/ EC. (2020, February 4). EC and EIF Launch €75 Million BlueInvest Fund. European Commission. https:// ec.europa.eu/commission/presscorner/detail/en/IP_20_167 EIB. (2021). Clean Oceans Initiative. https://www.eib.org/attachments/thematic/clean_oceans_and_the_ blue_economy_overview_2021_en.pdf ESGCLARITY. (2020, September 30). Latest Launches: Xtrackers and Lyxor Add ESG ETFs – ESG ­Clarity. ESGCLARITY. https://esgclarity.com/latest-launches/ GEF, UNDP, & PEMSEA. (2019). Blue Economy Growth in the East Asian Seas Region. State of Oceans and Coasts 2018. http://pemsea.org/sites/default/files/Regional_SOC_20190611.pdf Guggisberg, S. (2018). Funding coastal and marine fisheries projects under the climate change regime. Marine Policy. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.marpol.2018.11.015 IFC. (2022). Guidelines for Blue Finance. https://www.ifc.org/wps/wcm/connect/cdbfb6c5-2726-47a69374-6a6f86032dd4/IFC-guidelines-for-blue-finance.pdf?MOD=AJPERES&CVID=nWxsyxN IFLR Correspondent. (2019). Behind the Deal: Seychelles’ Landmark Blue Bond. International Financial Law Review; London. https://www.proquest.com/docview/2193076275 ImpactAssets. (2021). ImpactAssets 50: Deliberate Capital, LLC. ImpactAssets. https://www.impactassets. org/ia50_new/fund.php?id=a012R000019mo97QAA Karani, P. (2021). Implementation Plan 2021–2025 (Issue December 2020). https://doi.org/10.13140/RG. 2.2.32179.66084 Katapult Ocean. (2022). Katapult Ocean – Investment Thesis – Katapult. Katapult Ocean. https://katapult. vc/ocean/for-investors/ Katugampola, N., & Slovik, M. (2019). Blue Bonds: The Next Wave of Sustainable Bonds. Morgan Stanley Institute for Sustainable Investing. https://www.morganstanley.com/content/dam/msdotcom/ideas/ blue-bonds/2583076-FINAL-MS_GSF_Blue_Bonds.pdf Mallin, M. F., Stolz, D. C., Thompson, B. S., & Barbesgaard, M. (2019). In oceans we trust: Conservation, philanthropy, and the political economy of the Phoenix Islands protected area. Marine Policy. https:// doi.org/10.1016/j.marpol.2019.01.010 Mathew, J., & Robertson, C. (2021, January 12). Shades of Blue in Financing: Transforming the Ocean Economy with Blue Bonds. DLA Piper. https://www.dlapiper.com/en/us/insights/publications/2021/01/ shades-of-blue-in-financing/ McManus, E., Collins, M., Yates, O., Sanders, M., Townhill, B., Mangi, S., & Tyllianakis, E. (2019). Commonwealth SIDS and UK overseas territories sustainable fisheries programmes: An overview of projects and benefits of official development assistance funding. Marine Policy. https://doi.org/10.1016/j. marpol.2019.02.009 OOF. (2020). Business for Ocean Sustainability – Second Edition – A Global Perspective. One Ocean Foundation. https://www.1ocean.org/business_for_ocean_sustainability_second_edition/ PEMSEA. (2012). Changwon Declaration. Fourth Ministerial Forum on the Sustainable Development Strategy for the Seas of East Asia. 2012. Changwon Declaration Toward an Ocean Based Blue Economy: Moving Ahead with the Sustainable Development Strategy. Changwon, Republic of Korea. 12 July. Piñeiro-Antelo, M., de los, Á, Durán Villa, F. R., & Santos, X. M. (2019). ODA in Galicia (Spain). The importance of the fisheries sector and the cultural priority. Marine Policy, 107, 103455. https://doi. org/10.1016/J.MARPOL.2019.02.027 Pouponneau, A. (2015). Blue Economy and Finance in Practice: An Example from the Seychelles. ­Division for Oceans Affairs and the Law of the Sea. https://www.un.org/Depts/los/nippon/Sustainable OceanEconomies_final.pdf

Creativity in blue economy financing  119 RI & Credit Suisse. (2020). Investors and the Blue Economy. https://www.esg-data.com/blue-economy Schutter, M. S., & Hicks, C. C. (2019). Networking the blue economy in Seychelles: Pioneers, resistance, and the power of influence. Journal of Political Ecology, 26(1), 425–447. https://doi.org/10.2458/ V26I1.23102 SeyCCAT. (2021). Our Evolution – SeyCCAT – The Seychelles Conservation and Climate Adaptation Trust. SeyCCAT. https://seyccat.org/our-evolution/ SeyCCAT-WB-GEF. (2019). Innovative Financing for Healthy Oceans. SeyCCAT. https://seyccat.org/wpcontent/uploads/2019/03/The-Seychelles-Model-The-Worlds-First-Sovereign-Blue-Bond.pdf Shiiba, N., Wu, H. H., Huang, M. C., & Tanaka, H. (2022). How blue financing can sustain ocean conservation and development: A proposed conceptual framework for blue financing mechanism. Marine Policy, 139, 1–8. https://doi.org/10.1016/J.MARPOL.2021.104575 Silver, J., & Campbell, L. (2018). Conservation, development and the blue frontier: The Republic of ­Seychelles’ debt restructuring for marine conservation and climate adaptation program. International Social Science Journal. https://doi.org/10.1111/issj.12156 Sumaila, U. R., Walsh, M., Hoareau, K., Cox, A., Teh, L., Abdallah, P., Akpalu, W., Anna, Z., Benzaken, D., Crona, B., Fitzgerald, T., Heaps, L., Issifu, I., Karousakis, K., Lange, G. M., Leland, A., Miller, D., Sack, K., Shahnaz, D., & Zhang, J. (2021). Financing a sustainable ocean economy. Nature Communications, 12(1). https://doi.org/10.1038/s41467-021-23168-y The Meloy Fund. (2021a). The Meloy Fund – About. The Meloy Fund. https://www.meloyfund.com/about The Meloy Fund. (2021b). Why Invest in Coastal Fisheries? The Meloy Fund. https://www.meloyfund. com/ Thiele, T., & Gerber, L. R. (2017). Innovative financing for the high seas. Aquatic Conservation: Marine and Freshwater Ecosystems, 27(April), 89–99. https://doi.org/10.1002/aqc.2794 Tirumala, R. D., & Tiwari, P. (2020). Innovative financing mechanism for blue economy projects. Marine Policy. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.marpol.2020.104194 TNC Blue Bonds. (2021, April 4). An Audacious Plan to Save the World’s Ocean | TNC. The Nature Conservancy. https://www.nature.org/en-us/what-we-do/our-insights/perspectives/an-audacious-plan-tosave-the-worlds-oceans/ Trucost. (2013). Natural capital at risk: The top 100 externalities of business (London, UK: Trucost). Tsang, A., & Yeap, J. (2020, September 22). Bank of China Issues its First Blue Bond in Offshore ­Markets – Allen & Overy. Allen & Overy. https://www.allenovery.com/en-gb/global/news-and-insights/ news/bank-of-china-issues-its-first-blue-bond-in-offshore-markets UN. (2012, June 22). United Nations Conference on Sustainable Development Concludes with World Leaders Renewing Commitments to Save Planet | UN Press. United Nations. https://press.un.org/en/ 2012/envdev1310.doc.htm UNEP FI. (2021). Sustainable Blue Finance – United Nations Environment – Finance Initiative. UNEP Finance Initiative. https://www.unepfi.org/blue-finance/ UNFCCC. (2021). Healthy Oceans Vital to Achieving a Low-Carbon and Resilient World. UN Climate Change News. https://unfccc.int/news/healthy-oceans-vital-to-achieving-a-low-carbon-and-resilientworld United Nations. (2012). Outcome Document of the United Nations Conference on Sustainable Development. United Nations. https://sustainabledevelopment.un.org/content/documents/733FutureWeWant. pdf United Nations. (2015). Sustainable development goals and targets. https://www.un.org/sustainable development/sustainable-development-goals/ United Nations. (2021). Inter-agency Task Force on Financing for Development, Financing for Sustainable Development Report 2021. https://financing.desa.un.org/iatf/report/financing-sustainable-developmentreport-2022 Vanderklift, M. A., Marcos-Martinez, R., Butler, J. R. A., Coleman, M., Lawrence, A., Prislan, H., ­Steven, A. D. L., & Thomas, S. (2019). Constraints and opportunities for market-based finance for the restoration and protection of blue carbon ecosystems. Marine Policy. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.marpol.2019. 02.001

120  R. D. Tirumala and K. Upadhyay Wabnitz, C., & Blasiak, R. (2019). The rapidly changing world of ocean finance. Marine Policy. https:// doi.org/10.1016/j.marpol.2019.103526 WB. (2018, October 29). Seychelles Launches World’s First Sovereign Blue Bond. World Bank. https:// www.worldbank.org/en/news/press-release/2018/10/29/seychelles-launches-worlds-first-sovereign-bluebond Wees, I. van. (2019). We Need to Deep Clean the Oceans. Here’s How to Pay for It | World Economic Forum. World Economic Forum. https://www.weforum.org/agenda/2019/05/deep-clean-oceans-howto-pay-for-it West, O. (2021, November 9). Belize Blue Bond Naysayers Miss the Point. Global Capital. https:// www.globalcapital.com/article/29aqy2irktj8bh1ptraps/comment/gc-view/belize-blue-bond-naysayersmiss-the-point Whisnant, R., & Reyes, A. (2015). Blue Economy for Business in East Asia Towards an Integrated Understanding of Blue Economy. Partnerships in Environmental Management for the Seas of East Asia (PEMSEA). http://www.pemsea.org/sites/default/files/PEMSEA%20Blue%20Economy%20Report %2011.10.15.pdf World Bank. (2017). Project Appraisal Document. https://documents1.worldbank.org/curated/en/ 394051505478217219/pdf/SEYCHELLES-PAD-09122017.pdf World Bank. (2018). Seychelles launches world’s first sovereign blue bond. World Bank. https://www. worldbank.org/en/news/press-release/2018/10/29/seychelles-launches-worlds-first-sovereign-blue-bond World Bank. (2020). PROBLUE 2020 Annual Report. https://documents1.worldbank.org/curated/en/ 564401603456030829/pdf/PROBLUE-2020-Annual-Report.pdf WWF. (2014). The Principles of the Blue Economy. https://wwfint.awsassets.panda.org/downloads/15_ 1471_blue_economy_6_pages_final.pdf

Section II

Society and Culture

10

Creativity and the city New forms of work and life Dan Eugen Ratiu

Introduction The relations between creativity and the city have risen as a major topic of investigation in recent decades. The social sciences and urban studies have witnessed an increased interest in the spatial embedding of creativity, particularly in urban space, epitomised by the associated and praised notions of “creative city” (Landry 2000) and “creative class” (Florida 2002, 2005). Other authors refer more critically to the “creative turn” in economy (Pratt 2009) and highlight not only positive but also “darker” dimensions of the creative cities’ developmental dialectic, emphasising instead the demands of sustainability (Scott 2006). The concept of sustainability represents a broader understanding and critical discourse and practice of urban development, focusing in particular on the role of artists in achieving urban creativity and sustainable development (Kirchberg and Kagan 2013; Ratiu 2013), and re-envisioning the whole city as a “space of cultural possibilities” that can lead to sustainable and resilient urban spaces (Kagan 2022). The importance of urban agglomeration – that is, the spatial concentration of talents –, as a booster for innovativeness and especially artistic creation has been extensively investigated since the 1990s (Glaeser 2008; Menger 1994). Menger (2013) has also noted a shift from a state to a city-centred perspective on cultural generativity, which challenges the state-centred doctrine of cultural policy in favour of a bottom-up approach of spatial agglomeration-driven generation and exchange of ideas and creative undertakings. Dilemmas and tensions still arise similarly to the creative city: spatial concentration may boost creativity and cultural generativity in cities but at the price of potentially increasing social costs such as social polarisation and segregation (Menger 2013, 479, 492). There is a need to approach creative cities “off the beaten path”, as a Special Issue of the Journal of Cultural Management and Cultural Policy (2020) reassessed recently. Moreover, the question of what we (also) mean by “city” received an unusual answer in the seminal work of French sociologists Luc Boltanski and Ève Chiapello, The New Spirit of Capitalism (2005, originally published in 1999). There, the concept of city refers to a model of “justificatory regime” or “order of worth”, an externally normative holding point of capitalism based on specific principles of evaluation, and is used to explain the dynamics of changes in capitalism and its spirit in the last 30–40 years. The conceptual framework established by Boltanski and Chiapello (2005) is useful in reflecting on the current normative changes in the worlds of creative production as well as in the urban lifeworld, which follows the changes in the art world, and it provides a critical standpoint on these changes. The relations between artists/artistic creation and cities work both ways. For example, from an inverted perspective, Kaddar et al. (2022) introduce the notion of the “artistic spirit of cities” to capture how cities influence urban artistic practices, particularly artists’ critical engagement. DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-12

124  D. E. Ratiu Based on qualitative fieldwork, they find that artists’ self-perception, motivation, and practice are highly influenced by the particular socio-political and spatial structures of the city in which they live and work (Kaddar et al. 2022). Likewise, urban aesthetics (UA) is currently advancing at the junction between everyday aesthetics and philosophy of the city, endorsing a new, larger vantage point that focuses on the experience of city life. Sanna Lehtinen (2020a, 2020b) provides an informative overview of UA’s conceptual and methodological shifts towards the study of the entire urban life forms and lifeworld, with their aesthetic and social dimensions/values and ethical concerns as well. Within this new framework, the aesthetic interest in cities encompasses the whole range of urban aesthetic phenomena. From a macro perspective, or “the broad visually oriented approach” of UA, it concerns the look of a city, the style and size of the building stock, the cityscape. A complementary micro perspective approaches the city as “a vibrant locus of different types of experience” with regard to its aesthetic dynamics and the more subjective everyday aesthetics, notably the experienced quality of the everyday urban life. The aims are to study “how the urban lifeworld is processed in the human experience” and “how cities are envisioned, experienced and assessed” (Lehtinen 2020a). This new, “more comprehensive idea of urban aesthetics”, which combines macro and micro perspectives, is indeed useful in rendering the city (life) its full spectrum of colours. This chapter1 addresses the reciprocal relations between creativity and the city from the perspective of this more specific, intersectional area of urban aesthetics, allied with that of sociology where the “city” also refers to a normative world, i.e., a regime of values and ways of working and living (Boltanski and Chiapello 2005). The approach is in line with new paradigms in aesthetics/urban studies, philosophy of the city (Meagher et al. 2020) and sociology, which revive the classic idea of “urbanism as a way of life” (Wirth 1938) and focus on the “urban lifeworld” (Madsen and Plunz 2002) and the “urban experience” as complex dimension that constitutes the city (Berleant 2012). Therefore, this chapter does not address directly the city’s built environment, architectural formations, or other significant forms of urban creativity, although all these are important topics for urban aesthetics as well (Berleant 2002; Carlson 2005; von Bonsdorff 2002). Rather, the interest here lies in the experience of city life, particularly in the artistic features of the new creative urban life forms and lifeworld, articulated with social issues, including their sustainability. The main aim is to show how artistic creation, lifestyle, and values inspired new norms of excellence, especially new forms of creative work and urban lifestyles, which in turn reshaped the condition of all (creative) people, and to assess their benefits, side effects, and sustainability. To this end, the chapter examines two figures of the city. The first is the “project-oriented city” defined by Boltanski and Chiapello (2005) as a new model of “order of worth”, which is isomorphic with the (third) form of a globalised, “network capitalism”. Their concept of the city as normative world allows us to discuss the role of artistic creativity/lifestyle in the emergence of new ways of working and living and a new regime of values, such as autonomy, adaptability, flexibility, and hyper-mobility. The first section specifically discusses their view that artistic critique since Baudelaire has contributed to this new regime of values by promoting, alongside with creativity, a “culture of uncertainty” that has at its core the opposition between stability and mobility. The second is the “creative city” as a stage for everyday creativity/creative lifestyles, analysed by Richard Florida in The Rise of the Creative Class (2002) and Cities and the Creative Class (2005). In this type of city, today’s “creative people” (including artists) with their experiential, creative lifestyle are the new mainstream that sets the norms for society: values such as individuality, diversity, and openness, but also impermanent relationships, loose ties, and quasi-anonymous lives.

Creativity and the city  125 At the intersection of these topics, a question arises as to the side effects those new norms of excellence and values that fuse cultures of creativity and uncertainty have on the sustainability of new artistic-like ways of living and working of the (creative) people. These effects pose serious challenges to creativity-led urban development policies, which need to address their inherent dilemmas or tensions and sustainability. Boltanski and Chiapello:“The project-oriented city” as a new normative world In The New Spirit of Capitalism, Boltanski and Chiapello (2005) assess the recent normative change in capitalism, described as a passage to a new “third spirit of capitalism”.2 That is, a distinct set of norms or a legitimising value system associated with the capitalist order and strongly related to certain forms of action and lifestyle conducive to that order (Boltanski and Chiapello 2005, 8–11). In short, two important items of their “axiomatic of change” concern the central role of critique – social and artistic – as a catalyst for changing the spirit of capitalism and possibly the capitalism itself, by providing justifications that it takes up and absorbs through its spirit (Boltanski and Chiapello 2005, 489–490). These justifications appeal to externally normative hold points of capitalism, which are the “cities”(Cités in French). A new type of “city”, the “projective” or “project-oriented city” (Cité par projet), epitomises the change towards this new normative world that includes new forms of work and life. In their view, this change refers to a major reorganisation of the dominant value system or sets of norms that are considered relevant and legitimate for the assessment of people, things, and situations. This new “project-oriented city” is organised by networks and emphasises activity, autonomy, adaptability, flexibility, and mobility as a “state of greatness” or worth. Moreover, it conceives of life itself as a series of different short-lived projects and poses the ability to move quickly from one project to another as a paradigmatic test of worth (Boltanski and Chiapello 2005, 103–138). A particular focus of their analysis on the interactions between the arts and other worlds of production is significant in this context. They noted the increased influence and expansion of the new exigencies of the artistic and intellectual professions – creativity, inventiveness, self-­expression, flexibility, adaptability – until they became the “new models of excellence” or “worth” for all working people (Boltanski and Chiapello 2005, 8–19, 419–420). This type of analysis is obviously not unique. Other authors have also pointed out that, since the 1980s, work norms have changed following an internalisation of the values associated with artistic creativity: autonomy, flexibility, non-hierarchical environment, continuous innovation, risk-taking, and so on (Menger 2002, 6–7; Zukin 2001, 263). However, Boltanski and Chiapello’s account is distinct in that they strongly link this normative change to the “new spirit of capitalism”, the related “project-oriented city”, and the effects of the artistic critique thereof. Next, we explore these complex interrelations and the contribution of artistic practice/life to these new norms and ways of working and living. Artistic practice and life as a new conception of human excellence and lifestyle

One of Boltanski and Chiapello’s viewpoints of major interest here is that artistic critique since Baudelaire contributed to constitute the new regime of values typified in the current projectoriented city, including a new conception of human excellence and a new (urban) lifestyle. They note the importance that artistic critique has attached to creativity, pleasure, imagination, and innovation, as well as the loss of the sense of what is beautiful and valuable. However, at the core of artistic critique stands the opposition between the detachment and mobility of

126  D. E. Ratiu intellectuals/artists and the attachment and stability of bourgeoisie. They found its paradigmatic formulation in Charles Baudelaire’s Painter of Modern Life (1995; originally published in 1863), specifically in his model of “the artist free of all attachments – the dandy – [who] made the absence of production (unless it was self-production) and a culture of uncertainty into untranscendable ideals”. Mainly, the absence of ties and the mobility of an artist-dandy “passerby” contribute, in their view, to this particular fusion of creativity and uncertainty (Boltanski and Chiapello 2005, 38–40, 52). Along with Baudelaire, they list as contributors to this new value system the later trends in artistic critique, which in their own ways promoted such a fusion of creativity and “culture of uncertainty”. That type of culture spread particularly through Surrealism and the movements arising from it, such as Situationism, as well as through some trends in contemporary art that promote the “project culture” (Boltanski and Chiapello 2005, xxii, 38; Boltanski 2008, 56, 66–67). Boltanski and Chiapello further explain the ways in which artistic critique has contributed to the current normative change. In short, the third spirit of capitalism has recuperated and appropriated many components of the artistic critique: the demands for liberation, individual autonomy, creativity, self-fulfilment, and authenticity. Nowadays, these seem to be not only widely recognised as essential values of artistic modernity but also integrated into managerial rhetoric and then extended to all types of employment, transforming the organisational ethos and practices. Hence, their thesis is that artistic critique in the last 20–30 years has rather played into the hands of capitalism and been instrumental in its ability to last (Boltanski and Chiapello 2005, 419–420). Boltanski and Chiapello (2005) and later Boltanski (2008) also emphasise the contribution of artistic practice to the coupling of references to “authenticity” and “networks”, assembled in a new ideological figure, that of the “project”, flexible and transitory. This constitutes the core of the new conception of human excellence, the new societal arrangement seeking to make the network with its “project culture” a pervasive normative model. In a further debate on this topic, Under Pressure: Pictures, Subjects and the New Spirit of Capitalism, Isabelle Graw (2008a, 2008b) confirms that it is precisely the project-oriented city described by Boltanski and Chiapello who sets up the limits and guidelines of the “project culture” that emerged in some segments of the art world in the early 1990s. Most activities in this new normative world present themselves as short-term projects, the distinction between “work” and “non-work” becoming obsolete: “Life turns into a succession of projects of limited duration, and subjects are expected to quickly and flexibly adapt themselves to constantly changing conditions and unexpected developments”. A relevant example is Conceptual Art with its emphasis on projects, communication, networking, self-management, and the staging of one’s personality (Graw 2008a, 11–12; 2008b, 76–77). The artistic-driven normative changes: Benefits and side effects

All of this raises serious questions about the effects of the new norms of excellence and values on the current artistic-like ways of working and living, and their sustainability. Certainly, there are benefits of the normative change triggered by the artistic critique. In the Postscript of The New Spirit of Capitalism, “Sociology contra fatalism”, Boltanski and Chiapello emphasise the new liberties – autonomy, self-expression, self-realisation – that have emerged in the stage of the “network capitalism” and accompany its constraints (Boltanski and Chiapello 2005, 535–536). As Graw (2008b, 78) argues, it is a better solution to avoid the scenario of “total co-optation” and to recognise the valuable accomplishments made by the artistic critique and emancipatory movements of the 1960s and 1970s in terms of “autonomy” and “self-realisation”.

Creativity and the city  127 However, Boltanski and Chiapello also report and criticise some paradoxical effects of the demands of liberation, autonomy, and authenticity that the artistic critique has formulated and then capitalism has incorporated into its new, third spirit, and eventually into its displacements. Their critical position is primarily concerned with the “anxiety” (inquiétude) and the “uncertainty” (in a sense that contrasts it with calculable risk) related to the type of liberation associated with the redeployment of capitalism. They argue that this affects all relations that connect a person to the world and to others, and by closely tying autonomy to job insecurity or precariousness, undoubtedly makes more difficult to “project oneself into the future”. They draw attention to the fact that the introduction into the capitalist universe of the arts’ modes of operation has helped to disrupt the reference-points for the ways of evaluating people, actions, or things. In particular, it is about the lack of any distinction between time at work and time outside work, between personal friendship and professional relationships, between work and the person who performs it – which, since the 19th century, constituted typical characteristics of the artistic condition and particular markers of the artist’s “authenticity” (Boltanski and Chiapello 2005, 422–424). The main target of their critical stance is what they call the “culture of uncertainty” that appeared in Baudelaire’s work (notably The Painter of Modern Life) along with the emphasis on creativity, and was promoted by that trend of artistic critique having at its core the opposition between stability and mobility, mentioned above. In their view, mobility has nowadays become a hyper-mobility, and its overvaluation has led to insecurity and precariousness in work and life. Therefore, a revived artistic critique would fulfil its genuine task only if it undid the link that has hitherto associated liberation with mobility (Boltanski and Chiapello 2005, 38, 535–536; Boltanski 2008, 56). On the one hand, it is true that for Baudelaire’s Painter of Modern Life the path to modernity is uncertain and risky. However, the uncertainty is largely due to the imaginative and contingent nature of creativity that tackles modern life and self (Ratiu 2021, 196). Understood as a condition of (self) creation, uncertainty is therefore inevitable in modern art world. From the moment when originality, innovation, and the irreducibility to canons became, in principle, the requisites of artistic quality, the creator’s uncertainty about his/her own creative talent and the chances of being recognised becomes constitutive of artist’s status in the modern “regime of singularity” (Heinich 2005, 124–127). On the other hand, the emergence of this opposition and new lifestyle also relates to a certain type of city life explored by Baudelaire – the life in modern metropolises such as Paris, London, and Berlin. Georg Simmel (1950, originally published in 1903) has already uncovered a connection between the metropolis and specific forms of contemporary (mental) life, such as a “deep contrast with the slower, more habitual, more smoothly flowing rhythm of the sensory-mental phase of small town and rural existence” (Simmel 1950, 409–410). As Iwona Blazwick later points out in Century City: Art and Culture in the Modern Metropolis (2001), by contrast with the stability of small-city life, the metropolis offers a ceaseless encounter with the new. Thus, along with the opposition between stability and mobility, the modern urban life entails another opposition between the familiar and the sense of the loss of identity and past, in many ways in accordance with the figure of the modern artist: Within the metropolis, assumptions of a shared history, language and culture may not apply […] It is a paradox of the metropolis that its scale and heterogeneity can generate an experience both of unbearable invisibility and liberating anonymity; and of the possibility of unbounded creativity. (Blazwick 2001, 8–9)

128  D. E. Ratiu To conclude, the link between uncertainty and creativity is bound to the very fabric of life in modern metropolis and, in this kind of urban setting/lifeworld, seems inevitable. This link is also bound to the structure of the art world itself – where creative work is governed by uncertainty, without which neither self-realisation nor creative innovation is possible (Menger 2014)  –, or at least to the “regime of singularity” characterising the status of modern/­contemporary artist ­(Heinich 2005). The issue at stake is how to tame the connection between uncertainty and creativity and channel it in ways that enable an urban life both creative and sustainable. The next question is whether Florida’s model of “creative city”, with its prescriptions for urban policies and creative lifestyles, does provide a sound solution to this problem or still faces similar side effects. Richard Florida: The creative lifestyle in the “creative city” This section further explores the role of artistic work and life as a model for everyday life and work in relation to the current imperative to creativity or what Florida calls the “creative ethos”. This leads to a social figure not exempt of controversy: the artist as model of creative lifestyle and work not only for “creative people” but also for ordinary people’s daily life in the “creative communities” of the “creative city” and their work in the “creative economy”. Due to their impact on the everyday city life as well as the creative people’s condition, all these social figures and urban formations prove to be a challenge of great significance. We address this challenge by analysing their use in Richard Florida’s theory of the “creative class” in the “creative city”.3 Creativity as a virtually universal capacity and limitless resource

In The Rise of the Creative Class and How It’s Transforming Work, Leisure, Community and Everyday Life, Florida (2002) holds that creativity – “the ability to create meaningful new forms” – is now more valued and cultivated than ever before. Moreover, after analysing the current “Transformation of Everyday Life”, he asserts that creativity “is not the province of a few selected geniuses who can get away with breaking the mould because they possess superhuman talents. It is a capacity inherent to varying degrees in virtually all people” (Florida 2002, 32). Thus, creativity appears as an ontological capacity that, although not actual for all people, characterises at least a new class, the “creative class”. Artists have a prominent position in the “super-creative core” of the creative class, although they are not its only representatives, let alone the creative class as a whole, which also includes scientists, engineers, educators, designers, architects, and so on (Florida 2002, 5, 72–77; 2005, 34–36). In a later publication, Cities and the Creative Class, Florida (2005) attempts to defend the creative class concept against those who criticise it as elitist and exclusionary, emphasising the idea that “every human being is creative”. In this way, human creativity or talent seen as “creative capital” would be a virtually unlimited resource and the main driving force in urban development (Florida 2005, 3–5, 22). Consequently, “creativity” in everyday life/work surpasses “creation” in the field of arts, as an extended potential capacity of all people (although not actualised in all cases) versus a rare (yet actual) capacity of an individual artist. Creative people in creative cities: The shared values of an experiential lifestyle

Florida identifies the “creative ethos” as “the fundamental spirit or character of [today] culture”, that is, the emerging “Creative Age”. Through this notion, he offers an alternative ontology of present reality and of ourselves: “The creative ethos pervades everything from our workplace culture to our values and communities, reshaping the way we see ourselves as economic and social actors – our very identities” (Florida 2002, 21–22). The creative ethos also comprises an

Creativity and the city  129 overall commitment to creativity in its varied dimensions. In his view, the rising of the “creative economy” in the Creative Age is not only drawing the spheres of innovation, entrepreneurship, and culture into one another, in intimate combinations, but it is also blending the varied forms of creativity – technological, economic, artistic and cultural –, which are now deeply interrelated (Florida 2002, 33, 201). Another key assumption of Florida’s theory is that the “creative people” gathered in “creative communities” in “creative cities” share values, norms, and attitudes, and these have changed significantly due to the shift from the (declining) social capital to the (increasing) creative capital and the process of global talent migration. Supposedly, the members of these creative communities or the Creative Class share values such as: individuality and self-statement; meritocracy, hard work, challenge and stimulation; diversity and openness. As many of them are “migratory talents”, they prefer weak ties to strong ones and desire “quasi-anonymity” and “experiential lifestyles”. Therefore, the impermanent relations and loose ties that allow creative people to live the quasi-anonymous lives they want define creative communities. Florida correlates overtly these values and loose social relations of today creative people in creative cities with those aspects of the city life that Baudelaire loved: its freedom and opportunities for “anonymity” and “curious observation” that were reflected in the flâneur’s quasi-anonymity and free enjoyment of the diversity of the city’s experience (Florida 2002, 15, 77–80, 267–282; 2005, 30–33; Baudelaire 1995, 5–12). Furthermore, these values and social relations have nowadays become the pattern of an experiential lifestyle and a model of existence. Florida admits, indeed, that today’s creative people are not Baudelaire. Still, these creative people – with their creative values, creative workplaces, and creative lifestyles – “represent a new mainstream setting the norms and pace for much of society” (Florida 2002, 211). Despite this, Florida ultimately posits an instrumental view on creative peoples, the artists in particular, as he sees them as dispensable tools of urban economic growth or regeneration. In his view, creative capital is a highly mobile factor, like technology: both are “not fixed stocks, but transient flows”, “flowing into and out of places” (Florida 2005, 7). This situation may look like that in “the city of passing encounters, fragmentary exchanges, strangers and crowds” portrayed by Baudelaire in his musings on 19th-century Parisian life, as Florida suggests (2002, 278). Indeed, the theme of the passer-by who only passes through from one place/situation to another is present in Baudelaire’s essays, including The Painter of Modern Life (1995). However, the passer-by Florida alludes to should be identified with the figure of the “mere flâneur”, not the artist as a “perfect flâneur” whose ambulant aesthetic practice and aims are different and freely assumed (Baudelaire 1995, 5–12, 26–29; Ratiu 2021, 188–189).4 Today, the transient flows or hyper-mobility of creative people/artists in the creative city are rather forced: increasing wealth for a city also means increasing gentrification that triggers an out-migration of artists (Florida 2005, 24–25, 278). Ultimately, Florida’s theory of creative class approaches the urban community primarily as a social structure able or unable to generate economic prosperity and a supportive context in attracting and retaining migratory talents; the concern for sustainable patterns of urban development and city lifeforms is lacking (Scott 2006, 15). Towards a creative yet sustainable urban life All this raises, again, questions about the effects of extending such a hyper-mobile and flexible creative lifestyle from the exceptional figure of the artist to ordinary people, up to becoming an ordinary lifestyle in a creative city. Would this creative-yet-uncertain way of life be sustainable? There are indeed clear benefits of the ongoing expansion of creativity into everyday life and the presence of creative communities in cities. Florida’s account of Cities and the Creative Class suggests that there is a significant positive correlation between the incidence of creative

130  D. E. Ratiu class in various cities and local economic development. He also emphasises the growing importance of the immaterial economic dimensions of urban space – creativity associated with human capital – since the decline of physical constraints on cities and communities in recent decades (Florida 2005, 1). Consequently, his prescriptions for urban policies aimed at “building creative communities” and accelerating the dynamism of the local economy are mainly oriented towards the deployment of packages of selected amenities as a way to attract elite workers, the “creative class”, into given urban areas. Florida’s strategy for developing a creative city revolves around a simple formula – “the 3 T’s of economic development: Technology, Talent, and Tolerance”. It stipulates, first, the development of urban amenities that are valued by the creative class desiring a high-quality experiential life. These amenities include: “street-level culture” venues  – cafes, bistros and restaurants, street musicians, art galleries, and hybrid spaces like bookstore-teahouse-little theatre-live music space – as well as fitness clubs (“the body as art”), jogging and cycling tracks for active recreation, and so on. It further instructs to ensure a prevailing atmosphere of tolerance, openness, and diversity that will incite the migration of other members of the creative class. Finally, to further upgrade the urban fabric and thus to enhance the prestige and attractiveness of the city as a whole. Thus, “quality of place”, measured by various indicators of urban amenities and lifestyle, would be a key ingredient of viable creative cities (Florida 2002, 165–189, 249–266, 283–313; 2005, 5–7, 37–42). Florida’s model of “creative city” and his prescriptions for urban policies aiming to boost its development have had a visible impact on today’s urban landscapes and provided valuable insights into creative urban lifestyles. However, this model faces side effects similar to those detected in lifestyles adjusted to the “project-oriented city”, organised around short-lived projects, discussed above: increased anxiety, instability, insecurity, and precariousness (Boltanski and Chiapello 2005, 16–18, 466–468; Ratiu 2018, 183–185). Such “extraordinary” styles of work and life, because of their characteristics of flexibility, hyper-mobility, and uncertainty, are unsustainable for most creative peoples, let alone ordinary people. There is still a need to find satisfactory answers in terms of creativity-led policies for sustainable patterns of urban development and city lifeforms. On the one hand, an argument advanced by Simon Roodhouse (2006) for cultural districts also applies to the creative city as a whole. He argues that we can measure the success or viability of an urban space by examining not only its activity – economic, social, cultural – and its form – the relationship between buildings and space; its meaning – the sense of place, both historical and cultural –, and its human dimensions are also very important. As Roodhouse concludes, these urban spaces are viable as long as they nurture and sustain those within and around it, and should be organised with this goal in mind (Galligan 2008, 138; Roodhouse 2006, 22–26). On the other hand, Florida’s theory of creative city lacks to mention what Allen Scott (2006) calls sustainability qualities – such as sociability, solidarity, and democratic participation. Through these, cities or urban communities could cope with what Florida himself recognises as “negative externalities” of the global creative economy, including the mounting stress and anxiety, and political and social polarisation (Florida 2005, 171–172; Scott 2006, 11). Instead, Scott contrasts Florida’s view on urban community and values, emphasising the complex interweaving of relations of production, work, and social life, as well as the strong communal ties and forms of affectivity and trust as conditions for a sustainable urban existence (Scott 2006, 9–15; for the cultural-and-social approach of creative cities’ sustainability, see Ratiu 2013, 127–132). Therefore, a creative city would be viable and sustainable as long as it is about shaping both viable urban places and communities. From this point of view, the continued extension of creativity into the everyday world of work and life would show its benefits when all people in the

Creativity and the city  131 city actually play a role in fostering a broader and more sustainable sense of place and creative community, and can enjoy a daily life that is both creative and sustainable. Conclusion The chapter proposes a new direction in approaching the reciprocal relations between creativity and the city. It consists of a novel interdisciplinary perspective that combines urban aesthetics’ interest in the experienced quality of everyday life in urban environments with a sharp sociological analysis of recent normative changes in the worlds of creative production and urban life under the influence of artistic practice, lifestyle, and values. These changes are instantiated by the “project-oriented city” as a new normative world (Boltanski and Chiapello) and the “creative city” as a stage of everyday creativity/creative lifestyles (Florida). Such an analytical framework is useful for understanding how the fusion of cultures of creativity and uncertainty, which has emerged in modern artistic practice/life and characterises life in certain urban settings (big cities and metropolis), inspired new norms of excellence and forms of creative work and life, especially in today’s creative cities. In turn, these reshape work practices, social relations, and urban structures and thus affect the condition of all people, including creatives/artists. This interdisciplinary approach is thus useful for shedding light on often-neglected aspects of the creative urban life forms and lifeworld, especially their aesthetic and social dimensions and values, including their sustainability. The analysis showed that the extension of the hyper-mobile and flexible creative lifestyle from the extraordinary figure of the artist to ordinary people, as a form of everyday urban life, triggers not only existential benefits but also risks: increased anxiety, insecurity, and precariousness in work and life. All these paradoxical effects pose serious challenges for creativity-led urban development policies and their sustainability. Such policies need to address the major tensions and potentially increasing social costs, such as social polarisation and segregation, generated by the expansion and imposition of creativity or the “creative ethos” as the norm for assessing human excellence of all working people and their everyday life. Thus, issues of sustainability and resilience of new creative forms of work and life remain an important future direction in examining the interrelationships between creativity and the city. In particular, the question is how to tame the connection between uncertainty and creativity and how to channel it in ways that enable an urban lifestyle both creative and sustainable. Notes 1 For a previous extensive account of this topic, including an analysis of Baudelaire’s figure of the city as “poetic object”, see Dan Eugen Ratiu. 2021. “Art and Everyday Life in the City: From Modern Metropolis to Creative City.” ESPES-The Slovak Journal of Aesthetics 10, no. 2: 183–204. 2 For a previous detailed account on the topics in this section, see Ratiu (2018, 175–189). 3 For a previous detailed account on the topics in this section, see Ratiu (2013, 125–133). 4 For Baudelaire’s view on how beauty and life change when experienced in the urban context of modern metropolis, see Ratiu (2021, 186–192).

References Baudelaire, Charles. 1995. “The Painter of Modern Life.” In The Painter of Modern Life and Other Essays, translated and edited by J. Mayne. Second edition. London; New York: Phaidon Press, 1–41. Berleant, Arnold ed. 2002. Environments and the Arts. Perspectives on Environmental Aesthetics. ­Burlington, VT: Ashgate.

132  D. E. Ratiu Berleant, Arnold. 2012. “Distant Cities: Thoughts on an Aesthetics of Urbanism.” In Aesthetics beyond the Arts: New and Recent Essays, ed. A. Berleant. Farnham, UK; Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 105–115. Blazwick, Iwona. 2001. “Century City.” In Century City: Art and Culture in the Modern Metropolis, ed. I. Blazwick. London: Tate Gallery Publishing, 8–15. Boltanski, Luc. 2008. “The Present Left and the Longing for Revolution.” In Under Pressure: Pictures, Subjects and the New Spirit of Capitalism, eds. D. Birnbaum and I. Graw. Berlin: Sternberg Press, 53–71. Boltanski, Luc and Chiapello, Ève. 2005. The New Spirit of Capitalism. Orig. Le nouvel esprit du capitalisme. Translated by Gregory Elliott. London; New York: Verso. Carlson, Allen. 2005. Aesthetics and the Environment: The Appreciation of Nature, Art and Architecture. London; New York: Routledge. Florida, Richard. 2002. The Rise of the Creative Class and How It’s Transforming Work, Leisure, Community and Everyday Life. New York: Basic Books. Florida, Richard. 2005. Cities and the Creative Class. London; New York: Routledge. Galligan, Ann M. 2008. “The Evolution of Arts and Cultural Districts.” In Understanding the Arts and the Creative Sector in the US, eds. J.M. Cherbo, R.A. Stewart and M.J. Wyszomirski. New Brunswick, NJ; London: Rutgers University Press, 129–142. Glaeser, Edward. 2008. Cities, Agglomeration and Spatial Equilibrium. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Graw, Isabelle. 2008a. “Introduction.” In Under Pressure: Pictures, Subjects and the New Spirit of Capitalism, eds. D. Birnbaum and I. Graw. Berlin: Sternberg Press, 10–13. Graw, Isabelle. 2008b. “Response to Luc Boltanski.” In Under Pressure: Pictures, Subjects and the New Spirit of Capitalism, eds. D. Birnbaum and I. Graw. Berlin: Sternberg Press, 75–80. Heinich, Nathalie. 2005. L’Elite artiste. Excellence et singularité en régime démocratique. Paris: Gallimard. Journal of Cultural Management and Cultural Policy. 2020. Special Issue “Creative Cities off the Beaten Path” 6, 1: 1–234. https://www.transcript-publishing.com/978-3-8376-4957-4/journal-of-cultural-­ management-and-cultural-policy/zeitschrift-fuer-kulturmanagement-und-kulturpolitik/?c=412000268 (Accessed: 14 September 2020). Kaddar, M., Barak, N., Hoop, M., et al. 2022. “The Artistic Spirit of Cities: How Cities Influence Artists’ Agency.” Cities 130: 103843. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cities.2022.103843 Kagan, Sacha ed. 2022. Culture and Sustainable Development in the City. Urban Spaces of Possibilities. London; New York: Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003230496 Kirchberg, Volker and Kagan, Sacha. 2013. “The Roles of Artists in the Emergence of Creative Sustainable Cities: Theoretical Clues and Empirical Illustrations.” City, Culture and Society 4, no. 3: 137–152. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ccs.2013.04.001 Landry, Charles. 2000. The Creative City: A Toolkit for Urban Innovators. London: Earthscan. Lehtinen, Sanna. 2020a. “Editorial Introduction to the Special Volume on Urban Aesthetics.” Contemporary Aesthetics 8: 1–9. https://contempaesthetics.org/2020/07/16/editorial-introduction-to-the-specialvolume-on-urban-aesthetics (Accessed: 11 August 2020). Lehtinen, Sanna. 2020b. “Shifting Sensibilities: Architecture and Aesthetics of the City.” Scenari 12: 89–106. http://mimesisedizioni.it/riviste/scenari/scenari-12.html (Accessed: 22 May 2021). Madsen, Peter and Plunz, Richard eds. 2002. The Urban Lifeworld: Formation, Perception, Representation. London; New York: Routledge. Meagher, Sharon M., Noll, Samantha and Biehl, Joseph S. eds. 2020. The Routledge Handbook of Philosophy of the City. London; New York: Routledge. Menger, Pierre-Michel. 1994. “Artistic Concentration in Paris and Its Dilemmas.” Villes en Parallèle 20–21: 184–207. https://doi.org/10.3406/vilpa.1994.1179 Menger, Pierre-Michel. 2002. Portrait de l’Artiste en Travailleur. Métamorphoses du Capitalisme. Paris: Seuil; La République des Idées. Menger, Pierre-Michel. 2013. “European Cultural Policies and the ‘Creative Industries’ Turn.” In Handbook of Research on Creativity, eds. K. Thomas, and J. Chan. Cheltenham, UK; Northampton, USA: Edward Elgar Publishing, 479–492. https://doi.org/10.4337/9780857939814.00047

Creativity and the city  133 Menger, Pierre-Michel. 2014. The Economics of Creativity. Art and Achievement under Uncertainty. Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press. Pratt, Andy C. 2009. “Policy Transfer and the Field of the Cultural and Creative Industries: What Can Be Learned from Europe?” In Creative Economies, Creative Cities: Asian-European Perspectives, eds. L. Kong and J. O’Connor. Dordrecht; New York: Springer, 9–23. Ratiu, Dan Eugen. 2013. “Creative Cities and/or Sustainable Cities: Discourses and Practices.” City, Culture and Society 4, no. 3: 125–135. http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.ccs.2013.04.002 Ratiu, Dan Eugen. 2018. “Artistic Critique on Capitalism as a Practical and Theoretical Problem.” In Art and the Challenge of Markets. Volume 2: From Commodification of Art to Artistic Critiques of Capitalism, eds. V.D. Alexander, S. Hägg, S. Häyrynen, and E. Sevänen. Cham: Palgrave Macmillan, 173–211. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-319-64644-2_7 Ratiu, Dan Eugen. 2021. “Art and Everyday Life in the City: From Modern Metropolis to Creative City.” ESPES-The Slovak Journal of Aesthetics 10, no. 2: 183–204. Roodhouse, Simon. 2006. Cultural Quarters: Principles and Practices. Bristol, UK: Intellect. Scott, Allen J. 2006. “Creative Cities: Conceptual Issues and Policy Problems.” Journal of Urban Affairs 28, no. 1: 1–17. Simmel, Georg. 1950. “The Metropolis and Mental Life.” In The Sociology of Georg Simmel, ed. Kurt H. Wolff. New York; London: The Free Press, Collier-Macmillan, 409–424. von Bonsdorff, Pauline. 2002. “Urban Richness and the Art of Building.” In Environments and the Arts. Perspectives on Environmental Aesthetics, ed. A. Berleant. Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 89–101. Wirth, Louis. 1938. “Urbanism as a Way of Life.” American Journal of Sociology 44, no. 1: 1–24. Zukin, Sharon. 2001. “How to Create a Cultural Capital: Reflections on Urban Markets and Places.” In Century City: Art and Culture in the Modern Metropolis, ed. I. Blazwick. London: Tate Gallery Publishing, 259–264.

11

Between performativity and spectacle Provocations of street-based public art festivals Rishika Mukhopadhyay

Introduction: Public art in urban spaces Public art has been an instrumental element in restructuring and re-aestheticising urban spaces in Euro-American cities. Since the late 20th century, urban local government has brought culture and art to the forefront of urban regeneration and redevelopment (Zukin 1989). Urban governance has consciously harnessed the power of art and culture to regenerate cities by developing stronger cultural policies (Miles 2005b). On the other hand, street-based public art has gone against the grain of sanctioned art practice and expressed itself through rebellious defiance towards normative visual aesthetics (Irvine 2012). Within geographical literature, scholars have noticed three emerging trends that pay close attention to artistic intervention and the city (Guinard and Molina 2018). The first trend normalises and reduces art as an aesthetic tool to transform urban places. A closer integration of art in urban planning policy has been emphasised within this trend (Miles 2005a). These efforts have often been manipulated by neoliberal urban governance and led to gentrification in the old core of the cities (Harris 2012; Ley 2003). Secondly, artists creatively intervened in an existing urban landscape to disrupt and resist the norm of public art with an intention to bring social change emerging from their commitment to social justice (Pinder 2008; Sharp, Pollock, and Paddison 2005). Countermapping initiatives, performances, and graffiti can be considered expressions of such art. Finally, art can seek to propose an alternative imagination of urban space to elicit the experimental potential of distressed neighbourhoods. Thus, geographers offer a unique insight into analysing the relationship between art practice, spatial change, polity, and society (Hawkins 2011, 2013). In India, long trend of public-facing art practice has been an inherent part of the urban public sphere, though neglected in scholarly literature. Walls have a history of being the face of anti-colonial expression since the nationalist movement. Chattopadhyay (2012, 2009) engages deeply with vernacular political wall writing, texts mixed with religious-patriotic-instructional iconographic symbols and motifs on buses and trucks and argues that they are part of the larger optical infrastructures, spaces of resistance as well as thriving popular culture in the public sphere of Indian cities. Jha (2022) points out that they need to be separated from public wall art that attends to civic causes and seeks to raise public awareness around particular social issues as noticed by Varughese (2018) in Mumbai. Public art encompasses not only these modes of expression but also art festivals community-centric and socially engaged art events that engage the audience in the art making process and usher them to interact with the art piece beyond its visuality. For instance, the Khoj International Artist organisation has been a long-term supporter of unconventional art practice (Sehgal, 2019). Their artist fellowship has facilitated powerful socially engaged art practices across the country. Among them, one project comments on the state of India’s urbanisation and its intersection with gendered public DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-13

Between performativity and spectacle  135 spaces (Bathla and Garg 2020; Srivastava 2020). Lauricella (2018) documents art initiatives from across four metropolitan Indian cities which not only advance artists’ commitments to social causes where artists become artist-activists but also highlight the importance of the sitespecificity and relationality of these art projects. More often than not, the ‘performative characteristics and possibilities of space’ (Shetty, Gupte, and Anagram Architects, 2010, n.p.) guide these public art initiatives. In response to the broader literature on the relationality between street-based public art and urban space, the paper anchors its argument on two street art festivals that took place in Kolkata, India. These two public art events share close spatial proximity but employ significantly different intentions and approaches in delineating the political possibilities of public art events. The word ‘event’ is consciously used here as it indicates temporary, pop-up expressions of creativity over two to three days which is closely aligned to street-based art forms but has no bearing on larger processes of urban regeneration.1 This feature makes the street-based public art in the old urban neighbourhoods of India quite unique. In both cases, the street and its immediate built environment, community relation, and existing cultural production of the space mediated the art form. The art exhibitions were grounded in the geographical and historical specificity of the area where many of the urban crafts are located. The genealogies of some of these urban crafts can be traced back to at least three generations when Kolkata, as the colonial capital, started to develop its urban features. One of them is a culturally significant community of clay idol-makers based in Kumartuli. They work under severe infrastructural constraints but have prospered in the last two decades. Their association with a faith-based craft attributes to their recognition as a heritage craft practice. Other crafts located on Chitpur Road, however, have been languishing and struggling to survive. Due to these particular socio-economic realities, the site specificity of the street art ventures is an overlapping feature of these events. Nevertheless, both events elicit different content, forms, materialities, functions, and engagement of the creative component. In the first instance, for Kumartuli, the artists recognised the creative-cultural energy of the space but there was a veiled attempt to transform the everyday mundaneness of these spatial cultural practices by infusing beautification techniques into the visual infrastructure of an ailing neighbourhood. The second street art festival shows a commitment to marshalling the creative potentiality of the vernacular-built form of Chitpur Road. The art trail, in this instance, revolved around the everyday ordinariness of the street-based craftspeople, crowded bazaars, dirt, and commotion as a commitment to blend art and life. Ultimately, the research asks a threefold question. What is the relationship between sporadic and ephemeral public art festivals and the socio-spatial environment which inspires them? How, if at all, do these events offer interpretations of these specific urbanities and accrue meaning to the spaces or is it a relational process? How art’s doing in these spaces can be enrolled into the political possibilities of artistic practices? The research was conducted during an immersive ethnographic fieldwork on Chitpur Road’s craft economy and its intersection with heritage narratives from September 2018 to May 2019 (Mukhopadhyay 2021). Both art festivals were closely observed. Kumartuli was one of the field sites where I spent a month in one of the craft workshops and interviewed several artisans and artisanal labourers. However, I had a deeper engagement in bringing together Chitpur Craft Collective and co-organised the festival, created a story map for the visitors, and curated one stop in the art trail. Spectacular veneer of art: Chronicle of colour and clay Rang Matir Panchali (A Chronicle of Colour and Clay) took place in Kumartuli, the century old cluster of religious clay idol makers of the city on 14th and 15th April, 2019. On the occasion

136  R. Mukhopadhyay of World Art Day and Bengali New Year, Asian Paints, a commercial paint company sponsored this two-day street carnival managed by its allied front, Creocraft. The event involved two genres of creative practitioners: the artisans or craftspeople, the traditional custodians of religious clay idol making with hereditary training/skills, and the professionally trained artists from the Government Art College of Kolkata. Some artisans from the community have also acquired the professional training and straddles between the role of professional sculpturer and traditional clay idol maker. The corporate front and the two genres of artists established Kumartuli Art Forum specifically for the purpose of Rang Matir Panchali. The tensions between the celebrated professional artists from and beyond the traditional craft community who led the art festival and the plight of custodians of hereditary skills, the artisans have been discussed in academic scholarship (Basak 2021). The collaboration as well as negotiations and contestations of these two kinds of creative traditions are not new in the city’s public art scene. For generations, the craftspeople with the help of a vast army of artisanal workers diligently make clay idols for the five-day annual autumnal religious festival of worshipping the goddess Durga (Durga puja), which has been accredited in UNESCO’s list of intangible cultural heritage in 2021. The religious nature of worship goes back to as far as 1757 in the city. However, it has long crossed the exclusive boundary of the aristocratic family homes and acquired the reputation of being a fiveday carnivalesque extravaganza taking over every corner of the public-private space of the city. The professionally trained artists play an important role in transforming the community puja pandals (the temporary adobe of the goddess) into magnificent art installations. Guha Thakurta’s (2015) research traces this shift in Durga puja celebration which ceases to exist solely as a religious affair and rose to a city-wide public art festival. Rang Matir Panchali took inspiration from the public art installations of Durga puja but chose to host the event in Kumartuli itself which is a cramped neighbourhood of less than a square kilometre. Three hundred makeshift workshops, shops, one-room homes, few houses of professionals, as well as remnants of crumbling houses of yesteryear aristocracy live cheek-by-jowl in this space. The event space was limited to only one narrow lane of the neighbourhood, Banamali Sarkar Street, and extended towards the workshops which are flanked on either side of this lane. The involvement of the corporate sponsor meant that this two-day exhibition quite intentionally wanted to change the visual appeal of this slum neighbourhood. For instance, a few pale and worn-out houses were painted over with bright yellow, green, and red colours. Often designs and verses enveloped the colourful front of the house and in the evening carefully placed lights gave them an additional hue of shadow and shine (Figure 11.1). The artisan workshops received minimal intervention from the corporate sponsor of the festival, but one of the female idol makers took the opportunity to give her workshop a structural upgrade. From tiled thatched roof, overnight it acquired a metal sheet covering. Instead of its bamboo unstable fence, an iron collapsible gate was installed. On the inside, the walls got a fresh paint of burgundy. The project execution echoed the sentiment of the organisers who wanted to conceal the bare bones of the neighbourhood by wrapping it with a colourful blanket of paints, ribbons, strings, installations, photographs, murals, and temporary sculptures. The event promotion poster vouched that visitors will experience ‘Malat dea Kumartuli’; malat entailing a jacket of the book (Figure 11.2). If Kumartuli with its inner substance of hereditary skill sets and spontaneous creativity can be compared with a book, then the festival intended to give the neighbourhood a cloak of glamour which would hide the everyday plight of the community. The ensemble of clay, bamboo, straw, and colour that are used to make the deity, formed the material basis of the exhibition. These materials were present from erecting the entrance gate to individual installations. However, the corporate sponsors and the organisers could not resist the temptation of installing gigantic, larger than life structure which turned each corner

Between performativity and spectacle  137

Figure 11.1 Fresh coat of paint on a neighbourhood building. Source: Photograph by the author.

Figure 11.2 The promotional poster saying ‘Malat dea Kumartuli’ ­(Kumartuli under a colourful cloak). Source: Photograph by the author.

of the narrow lane a space of spectacle. Traditional iconography of the goddess, from her body with ten spread out arms to face to eyes to the decorations were torn apart and constituted the recurring trope in most of the installations (Figure 11.3). They were hung, projected, shown in their various stages of making and in multiple materials. Experimentation with the image of the deity is frequently seen during Durga puja itself. In this instance, they confronted the visitors in every corner of the alley. Mismatched elements were thrown together and strewn all over the serpentine lane and specially carved out exhibition spaces within the inadequate workshops. For instance, in one workshop a figure of a bare bodied man with his bleeding heart against a mirror holding a paint brush and a palette in his hands stood over a pool of pyramid shaped blood. A bronze figure of a girl in a selfie pose occupied a corner of the lane (Figure 11.4). Behind her a spiralling wave of colours were merged within a vertical yet slanting bamboo cage. A tea stall was installed with a model tea seller to give an illusion of reality. History of the neighbourhood and memorial of a recently passed away elderly artisan was also part of the exhibit. Overall, the festival did celebrate the creative profusion of the artisans and artisan turned sculptors of Kumartuli and infused them with the curatorial ingenuity of the contemporary artists. The damp and musty smell of the neighbourhood and its earthiness were evaporated by the dazzling halogen lights. The festival masked the infrastructural inadequacy of the poverty ridden neighbourhood which some artisans might have wanted. Kumartuli has been at the receiving end of intense touristic gaze in the run-up to Durga puja. Its seemingly continuous tradition of idol making within inadequate infrastructure has made it city’s favourite instagramable destination. Rong Matir Panchali added another layer of visual treat within that mix. Possibly, those who could upgrade the conditions of their workshops were the beneficiaries of this process.

138  R. Mukhopadhyay

Figure 11.3 Patchwork of motifs: The image of the deity. 

Figure 11.4 A girl taking selfie: Contemporary art in the potters’ quarter

Source: Photograph by the author.

Source: Photograph by the author.

Art of everyday ordinary: Moving images of Chitpur The second event, Chitpurer Chalchitra (Moving images of Chitpur), took place from 7th to 9th February, 2019 stretched across a few neighbourhoods along Chitpur Road. Chitpur Road, now renamed as Rabindra Sarani, is one of the oldest roads in the city and the area selected for this art trail is located within a kilometre from Kumartuli. This art trail was organised by Chitpur Craft Collective as part of Kolkata Festival and financially supported by West Bengal Government’s Tourism Department. The collective assembled contemporary artists, designers, and researchers to collaborate with craftspeople of Chitpur Road. The project was spearheaded by Hamdasti, an artist collective who has been working in Battala neighbourhood of Chitpur Road since 2013, providing artist fellowships and facilitating socially engaged art projects. With Hamdasti, performance-based organisation Artsforward, Community Art Project from Chinatown, Art Rickshaw, and Sirri Saqti Foundation joined hands. The art trail had thirteen stops along the very busy Chitpur Road which meandered through various creative-cultural-trading clusters known for gold-silver jewellery making, folk theatre, book binding, stamp making, printing, iron utensil making, and wood carving. Quite a few craftspeople from these clusters joined the initiative. The trail also traversed through a traditional bazaar that hosts a plethora of businesses and trades. The artists carefully curated this trail to take the visitors walking through the buzzing Chitpur Road. The trail offered no major altercation of the existing urban fabric for the local residents but evoked curiosity in their minds. The stops showcased a mix of demonstrations and exhibitions of craft objects in the existing workshops along the road. Temporary art installations also emerged in the streets and lanes for three days. Contemporary artists collaborated with the vernacular craftspeople, became attentive to cultural history of the area, engaged with different faith and ethnic communities’ cultural expressions in

Between performativity and spectacle  139 the area to take these installations to their fruition. I will specifically focus on these installations which regarded the street itself as a canvas to tell the story of Chitpur’s diverse ethnic-religiouslinguistic craft communities. Active participation and observation of this three-day art festival leads me to argue that the road’s everyday life became an affective tool to tell the story of the community and space. The vernacular architecture of the space, popular art, and objects from the artisanal production were moulded into the contemporary artist’s aesthetic framework. For example, a reputed scenographer and designer Swarup Dutta, whose artwork illustrates body politics and gender identity through everyday objects wanted to bring his artwork to the public domain. He approached these questions through bamboo sculptures made by bamboo craftsman Binod Pakrey and iron utensils from shops of Chitpur Road’s Notun Bazaar area.2 From the sterilised white gallery space, he intended to bring his artwork amidst people and, more specifically, amidst the makers of those structures. For the bamboo craftspeople of Dompara, street is their workshop and two generations of craftspeople have worked from street. Hence, the installation was on the walls around the street where they work (Figure 11.5). For the iron utensil sellers, inside each shop, amidst heaps of iron utensils, the installation popped up (Figure 11.6). The black and white photographs of androgenous figures with their faces hidden by the iron utensils or trapped inside the bamboo cage starkly stood out from the battered walls of Chitpur Road! It raised a lot of questions about the meaning and debates of these photographs; what does the iron utensil or the bamboo cage symbolise? They often elicited appreciation among ordinary people, passers-by, and homeowners in the Dompara area for bringing a different sensibility in the sphere of wall art. It made Chitpur an alternative exhibition space where art could interact with the social world. The walls started to speak a language which was unknown yet inspired previously unspoken modes of communication and dialogue rooted in the neighbourhood’s craft tradition. The everyday objects used as props in those photographs were woven with the street/the shops from where they emerged and inspired the art. Even after the three-day art trail, Swarup’s installations were not taken down and eventually, it became part of the urban fabric where they will eventually

Figure 11.5  Walls speak the language. Source: Photograph by Hamdasti.

Figure 11.6 Installation inside an iron utensil shop. Source: Photograph by Manas Acharya.

140  R. Mukhopadhyay fade away or will be covered by another political wall writing. In other words, art’s interaction with the ordinary socio-spatial world co-produced a momentary as well as distinct urban aesthetics which encouraged ‘different and creative ways of looking at the city, enabling spontaneous and playful encounters that are concurrent with artistic practices’ (Arnold 2019, 13). Multimedia and visual artist Manas Acharya’s installation mobilised the bamboo objects that the craftspeople usually make and chose a space at a road junction right beside where the making was underway (Figure 11.7). Amidst structures of half-built Saraswati puja pandal (a temporary

Figure 11.7  Interwoven playfulness: Art and everyday bamboo craft sculpture. Source: Photograph by the author.

Between performativity and spectacle  141 marquee with a red tarpaulin cover visible at the background of the picture) and ongoing bamboo work (a bamboo dome making underway right behind the poster of the event), it was hard to distinguish art, everyday work and preparation for religious festivity separately.3 The space between the street-based workshops and exhibitions were blurred because both took place on the street. The installation did not try to interrupt the continuing work of the craftspeople, it did not invade the regular creative flow of the area to carve out a festive space. Rather, a conscious attempt to blend the art within the everydayness of object making, material practice, religious events, and overall the creative rhythm of the old city was conspicuous. Artsforward and Community Art Project’s installations also chose by-lanes and back alleys. They used aspect of the modest street furniture, the electric pole, shuttered windows, overhead wires, door frames, and porches as part of their installation (Figure 11.8). Dompara’s existing bamboo craftwork was not

Figure 11.8  Use of nondescript doors, window frames, and walls. Source: Photograph by community art project.

142  R. Mukhopadhyay interrupted by the invasion of new age artists. On the contrary, these elements and motifs of the vernacular craftwork became part of the art trail without ‘curating’ the environment. Throughout the curation process, there was an attempt to transgress the boundaries between art, craft, and everyday spaces of Chitpur. Sunderburg (2000) points out that though site-specific art installation emerged from a Eurocentric modernist notion of liberal progressiveness, it also has radical potential. The potential lies in giving meaning and expression to everyday work, objects, infrastructures, and spaces through the work of art. It pushed the boundary of where and how to do art. This type of artwork shows ‘intense engagement with the outside world and everyday life’ (Kwon 1997, 91) by including non-art spaces, such as tattered walls, bazaars, broken windows, shutters, electric poles, and street lights. In some cases, the artists also worked against the grain and worked towards de-aestheticisation by exposing some of the materials of the craftworks instead of covering them with beautifying materials. A phenomenon called ‘folly’ emerged in Europe between 1720 and 1850 who were often ‘defiantly and proudly antifunctional, existing cross-culturally beyond the well-charted eurowestern tangents’ (Sunderburg 2000, 8). In the 1960s, artistic aesthetic discourse when the distinction between high and low art was continuously questioned, follies re-emerged as alternative spaces of art display. By embracing experimentation, unsettling the normative shimmer of art festival and reinscribing the daily life-work as art, Chitpur Craft Collective inscribed a creative value in the ‘“collective” “competences” of the “practical”, “material”, and “embodied” everyday’ (Ebrey 2016, 166). Through the art trail, Chitpur Road emerged as an everyday site where ‘the line between art and life … (is) fluid, and perhaps indistinct as possible’ (Allan Kaprow, ‘The Event’ as mentioned in Sunderburg 2000, 1). The lived space of craftwork and the vernacular built environment of Chitpur was intertwined and entangled with the art trail showcasing spatial performativity (Nomeikaite 2020). Conclusion: Art’s doing in urban political The analysis of the two art festivals outlined above approaches creative intervention in the urban spaces from two modes of public art practice—a spectacular and performative practice. In both cases, the inspiration for the art festival emerged from the existing socio-spatiality of the creative cultural practice, their symbolisms, and their significance albeit in various forms and degrees in the city. The Kumartuli experience tried to transform the aesthetic-architectural signature of the space by installing larger-than-life characters, colours, paints as well as new materials beyond the traditional use of clay in the neighbourhood. The form, substance, and format of the installed art objects momentarily created a festive world where the thickness of the densely built neighbourhood could have been forgotten. Art made the despair of the crumbling infrastructure of the neighbourhood and the struggle of the artisanal labourers dissipated into the thin air for two days. Some buildings adopted a newly adorned look as they waited for the colour to fade away again as they battle with rain and dust. People thronged to the new-found destination of Kumartuli to celebrate Bengali New Year as they do before Durga puja before forgetting for the rest of the year. The only difference was that Chronicle of Colour and Clay was staged to attract the crowd and show them a taster of how Kumartuli can be reimagined and revitalised as an artist neighbourhood from its impoverished visuality of artisanal production. Whom it benefits is a complex question to attend to. At least one artisan seized the moment to improve her workshop and some received new paint on their wall. Can these be imagined as the possible political intervention of art? Or can these improvements be done by any Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) initiative without curating an art festival? The question remains:

Between performativity and spectacle  143 can the brightly lit spectacle of a festive atmosphere be the only offering of art which renders ordinary spaces inconsequential? Chitpurer Chalchitro foregrounded the intimacy and immediacy of the lanes of North Kolkata and the situatedness of the craftworld in these spaces. Art was mediated through and produced in dialogue with the vibrancy of the street (Irvine 2012). Artist-artisan collaborative installations were designed to sketch embodied interaction with the inhabited material world with a limited focus on visual transformation. The political possibility of art was more pronounced in this instance, as they resisted the temptation of aestheticisation of space and worked with the marked bodies of buildings, doors, windows, back alleys, worn out fabric of the city, rhythm of life which are usually considered as non-art spaces. The normative visual regime of art world was disrupted as the project made a conscious attempt to not make any altercation to the existing images of urban life. Art objects also appeared in places where their visibility was shared with existing visual markers on the walls and creative production on the streets. The art trail was an extended space of continuing, living yet changing traditions of Chitpur without interpreting or interrupting the everyday flow of these expressions. Rather, the visitors had to find their way in an unfamiliar public space without any guided tour.4 The art trail challenged the notion of what art can offer in a public space that itself is engaged in cultural doings albeit in a format unknown to art-loving gallery-going audiences. Art, in this instance, suggested a symbolic reconciliation of the visitor-driven festival economy with the everyday dynamism and creative processes of Chitpur’s craft economy. It reconfigured the very notion of street art festival through the absence of visual grandeur; a usual artistic inscription on city space by replacing it with the narrative of mundane everydayness. Notes 1 Deeper engagement with the word event can be found in non-representational theory where event considers the possibility of new beginnings which are intertwined ‘with the chances of invention and creativity’ (Anderson and Harrison 2010, 19). However, here the word is used to indicate the momentary temporality of the art festival without getting into a theoretical discussion. Similarly, performativity as a theoretical register and method of research has been advanced by proponents of non-representational theory in geography. Within the limited space, it has been left outside the scope of discussion in this chapter. 2 To know more about his exhibition, see https://www.indulgexpress.com/culture/art/2018/nov/04/­ scenographer-swarup-dutta-raises-questions-of-identity-at-new-solo-show-kaw-in-kolkata-10977. html (last accessed November 20, 2020). 3 Saraswati Puja: The annual worship of the goddess Saraswati who symbolises knowledge. 4 The visitor experience has remained outside the scope of discussion in this chapter.

References Anderson, B., and Harrison P. (2010). ‘The Promise of Non-Representational Theories.’ In Anderson, B. and Harrison, P. (eds.) Taking-Place: Non-Representational Theories and Geography. Farnham: Ashgate Publishing. 15–48. Arnold, E. (2019). ‘Aesthetic practices of psychogeography and photography’, Geography Compass, 13(2), p. e12419. https://doi.org/10.1111/gec3.12419. Basak, B. (2021). ‘The Staging of a “Carnival”—“Art”, Power and a Contested Space in Kumartuli.’ In Das, S.K. and Basak, B. (eds.) The Making of Goddess Durga in Bengal: Art, Heritage and the Public. Singapore: Springer. 203–27. Bathla, N., and Garg, S. (2020). ‘Radical Housing and Socially-Engaged Art.’ Radical Housing Journal 2 (2): 35–54.

144  R. Mukhopadhyay Chattopadhyay, S. (2009). ‘The Art of Auto-Mobility: Vehicular Art and the Space of Resistance in Calcutta.’ Journal of Material Culture 14 (1): 107–39. https://doi.org/10.1177/1359183508100010. Chattopadhyay, S. (2012). Unlearning the City: Infrastructure in a New Optical Field. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Ebrey, J. (2016). ‘The mundane and insignificant, the ordinary and the extraordinary: Understanding Everyday Participation and theories of everyday life’, Cultural Trends, 25(3), pp. 158–168. https://doi.org/ 10.1080/09548963.2016.1204044. Guha Thakurta, T. (2015). In the Name of the Goddess: The Durga Pujas of Contemporary Kolkata. Delhi: Primus Books. Guinard, P., and Molina, G. (2018). ‘Urban Geography of Arts: The Co-Production of Arts and Cities.’ Cities 77 (July): 1–3. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cities.2018.02.004 Harris, A. (2012). ‘Art and Gentrification: Pursuing the Urban Pastoral in Hoxton, London.’ Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 37 (2): 226–41. Hawkins, H. (2011). ‘Dialogues and Doings: Sketching the Relationships between Geography and Art.’ Geography Compass 5 (7): 464–78. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1749-8198.2011.00429.x Hawkins, H. (2013). ‘Geography and Art. An Expanding Field: Site, the Body and Practice.’ Progress in Human Geography 37 (1): 52–71. https://doi.org/10.1177/0309132512442865 Irvine, M. (2012). ‘The Work on the Street: Street Art and Visual Culture.’ In Heywood, I., Sandywell, B., Gardiner, M., Nadarajan, G., and Soussloff, C. (eds.) The Handbook of Visual Culture. London, New York: Bloomsbury Academic. Jha, S. (2022). ‘Floating Words and the Aesthetics of the Visual Vernacular: Political Culture in Contemporary India.’ Journal of Human Values 28 (2): 143–60. https://doi.org/10.1177/09716858221079005 Kwon, M. (1997). ‘One Place After Another: Notes on Site Specificity.’ October 80: 85–110. Lauricella, V. (2018). ‘Public Art in Urban India: From the People to the People.’ Presented in Royal Anthropological Institute, British Museum & SOAS, London. Ley, D. (2003). ‘Artists, Aestheticisation and the Field of Gentrification.’ Urban Studies 40 (12): 2527–44. https://doi.org/10.1080/0042098032000136192 Miles, M. (2005a). ‘Interruptions: Testing the Rhetoric of Culturally Led Urban Development.’ Urban Studies 42(5–6): 889–911. https://doi.org/10.1080/00420980500107375 Miles, M. (2005b). Art, Space and the City. London: Routledge. Mukhopadhyay, R. (2021). ‘Heritagising Urban Craft Economy: Thinking with Chitpur Road, Kolkata.’ Thesis submitted Exeter, UK: University of Exeter. https://ore.exeter.ac.uk/repository/handle/10871/ 128111 Nomeikaite, L. (2020). ‘Street Art and Heritage Conservation: From Values to Performativity.’ SAUCStreet Art and Urban Creativity 5 (1): 6–19. https://doi.org/10.25765/sauc.v5i1.181 Pinder, D. (2008). ‘Urban Interventions: Art, Politics and Pedagogy.’ International Journal of Urban and Regional Research 32 (3): 730–36. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1468-2427.2008.00810.x Sehgal, S. (2019). ‘Art meets social change at Khoj’. Civil Society Magazine. Available at: https://www. civilsocietyonline.com/lifestyle/art-meets-social-change-at-khoj/ (Accessed: 26 September 2022). Sharp, J., Pollock, V., and Paddison, R. (2005). ‘Just Art for a Just City: Public Art and Social Inclusion in Urban Regeneration.’ Urban Studies 42 (5–6): 1001–23. https://doi.org/10.1080/00420980500106963 Shetty, P., Gupte, R., and Anagram Architects. (2010). ‘Art and Architecture.’ Khoj (blog). https:// khojstudios.org/programme/art-and-architecture/edition-2010/ Srivastava, M. (2020). ‘The Urban Artists.’ The Patriot (blog). February 16, 2020. https://thepatriot.in/ reports/the-urban-artists-15037 Sunderburg, E. (ed.) (2000). Space, Site, Intervention: Situating Installation Art. Minneapolis; London: University of Minnesota Press. Varughese, D.E. (2018). ‘(Social) Memory, Movements and Messaging on Tulsi Pipe Road: “Seeing” Public Wall Art in Mumbai.’ South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies 41 (1): 173–93. https://doi.org/ 10.1080/00856401.2018.1385671 Zukin, S. (1989). Loft Living: Culture and Capital in Urban Change. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press.

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The role of community arts organisations in heritage-led regeneration and placemaking The case of LAMO and Old Town, Leh Michael Buser and Monisha Ahmed

Introduction Arts and cultural organisations can be key change agents in community and city regeneration, revitalisation, and placemaking efforts (Markusen and Gadwa 2010; Buser et al 2013; Foster et al 2016; Ryberg-Webster and Ashley 2018). In recent years, policies supporting the ‘creative city’ have become popularised as a way for communities to address disinvestment and decline (Landry 2000; Florida 2002; Evans 2009). Scholarship has done a good job detailing the ways in which policies and practices focused on supporting creative activity can stimulate economic growth and the conservation or reuse of historic resources. It has also exposed some of the associated difficulties including, most notably, gentrification, inequality, and displacement. This literature was initially very ‘Western’ focused, targeting policy and practice in de-industrialising global cities. However, in recent years, more has been written about the role and relationship between arts, culture, and the built environment in the Global South (e.g., Seo 2020). Yet, there remains relatively little related scholarship centring on Indian examples and the relationships between creativity and the built environment in this context. This chapter begins to address this gap by examining the role of the Ladakh Arts and Media Organisation (LAMO) in the placemaking and regeneration efforts of the Old Town area in the Indian city of Leh.1 The arts have long been heralded as drivers for city and neighbourhood revitalisation. Since at least the 1980s, scholars have noted the impact artists and creatives can have on declining areas. Sharon Zukin’s ground-breaking book Loft Living (1982) was one of the earliest to detail how New York City artists were well-positioned to take advantage of the physical remains of the post-industrial city. Her Artistic Mode of Production described how artists, through risktaking and sweat equity, paved the way for property investment by developers and the real estate community. In many post-industrial cities, the image and mythology of the urban artist became a powerful force of consumption as middle- and upper-class urbanites sought to mimic the aesthetics and lifestyle of loft living; consequentially, increasing property values and contributing to neighbourhood gentrification (Ley 2003; Ning and Chang 2022). In subsequent decades, creative city policies and urban cultural regeneration efforts have become globally ubiquitous, particularly (but not exclusively) in cities where the decline of industrial activity led to a surplus of infrastructure and structures such as warehouses and factories. The role of artists and creatives as engines of economic growth was detailed by Florida (2002), who claimed they could be lured to cool cities through socially progressive policies and support for the arts and culture. The most widespread critiques of creative city approaches centre on their embeddedness in entrepreneurialism and neoliberal dogma (Peck 2005; Zimmerman 2008). Some have suggested that artists act as neoliberal shock troops, trailblazers who help steer capital to undesirable areas (Makagon 2010). Furthermore, researchers have found a tendency among these efforts to lead DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-14

146  M. Buser and M. Ahmed to higher property values, gentrification, and displacement (Ley 2003; Chapple and Jackson 2010; Mathews 2010). Creative city policies have also been criticised as elitist and disconnected to the needs of local populations (Delconte et al 2016); supportive of employment in sectors associated with precarity (d’Ovidio and Morató, 2017); and framed by a homogeneous understanding of the city based on consumption and global city competition that simultaneously takes advantage of and de-values or even destroys ‘local authenticity’ (Long 2010). Nevertheless, others have found that investment in arts activity – particularly those programmes involving neighbourhood groups – does not necessarily result in displacement or gentrification (Stern & Seifert, 2010; Noonan 2013). Research on heritage-led regeneration, a related set of literature, narrates the ways in which cities often exploit historic resources and heritage programming to support economic development, regeneration, and renewal (Reeve and Shipley 2014; Kapp 2017; Ryberg-Webster and Ashley 2018). Much of this activity draws on local history to spur investment, renewal, and tourism. As such, heritage-led regeneration often involves the protection and enhancement of cultural attractions, creation and conservation of historic sites and districts, and the preservation and rehabilitation of structures. In this context, the historical-physical fabric of place is a critical resource for investment. These features range from the monumental (e.g., castles, bridges, and aqueducts) to the mundane (e.g., warehouses, homes, barns, and taverns). Through careful storytelling and aesthetic presentation, these sites and features of the built environment become physical mnemonics, commemorating ‘important’ moments in time (Delconte et al 2016). In this way, heritage-led regeneration can be seen as a spatially situated tactic that draws on the built environment to remember and celebrate the uniqueness of place. These regeneration efforts are often situated in wider programmes to attract external investment and tourism. As Lak et al (2020, 387–388) note, ‘places with unique marketable cultural heritages have long held a competitive advantage in the tourism marketplace’. In cities shifting towards culture and service economies, the potential for heritage tourism to fill investment gaps can be particularly attractive. As with the more general creative city critique, researchers have noted that while these efforts can stimulate a range of community-oriented and economic benefits, heritage-led regeneration and related tourism activities can also lead to overcrowding, congestion, commoditisation of culture, gentrification, and displacement (Skoll and Korstanje 2014; Lak et al 2020). In this chapter, we are particularly interested in the role of local, community-based organisations. Within this framing, Delconte et al (2016) found that local arts agencies involved in heritage tourism can support local economic development, the expansion of social networks and social capital, public participation and collaboration, and structural reuse and conservation of historic assets and resources (among other benefits). The connection to place and specific physical structures is particularly relevant here as many organisations involved in heritage-led regeneration are located in structures of cultural and historic importance. This spearheading activity mirrors Zukin’s (1982) risk-taking artists who paved the way for later investment in the declining districts of post-industrial cities. Our discussion on the Old Town, Leh provides an example of this kind of change in a relatively isolated part of the world. In the following sections, we provide contextual background and then narrate some of the heritage-led regeneration efforts of LAMO centring on the ways in which the organisation has interacted with the built environment through conservation efforts and arts and media work in the community. Our place in the city – arts and culture in the Old Town The city of Leh is located at the western edge of the Himalayan Plateau. It is the capital city of Ladakh, a dry and harsh mountainous region with warm summers and extremely cold

Role of community arts organisations   147 winters. The focus of this case study is the ‘Old Town’ area of the city of Leh. Until the late 19th century, as the historic seat of the Kingdom of Ladakh and an important stop in the transHimalayan trade network, the Old Town was an important centre of social, cultural, political, and economic life. Leh was an active area with lively markets, affluent residences, religious buildings, and other notable monuments. Dominating the Old Town from Tsemo Hill is the 17th-century Leh Palace. The Old Town tumbles down the slope in front of the palace and includes about 160 mud, stone, and timber structures, many of which were built in traditional Tibetan-Himalayan vernacular architecture. Historically, this area was home to aristocrats and merchants who benefited from protection of the king and the city’s walls and fortifications. Many worked in some capacity for the royal family (e.g., as tailors or performers) and lived in the vicinity below the palace. After Ladakh came under control of the Dogra Kingdom in the 1840s and the royal family was forced to move from Leh, the Old Town began to lose influence and importance, initiating an extended period of decline and neglect. Further as the need for protection from invaders waned, wealthy residents began to move outside the city walls. Moreover, as the densely built Old Town area did not have water, sewage, or easily accessible roads, development and investment shifted to less congested areas. In 1947, with Indian independence, Ladakh and the city of Leh became part of the Indian state of Jammu and Kashmir. New, hardened national borders with Pakistan and China isolated the area, effectively cutting it off the trans-Himalayan trade. The isolation lasted several decades until the 1970s when the Indian army began constructing roads and other infrastructure in Ladakh and travel restrictions were eased that opened the area to tourism. However, the Old Town, even with its rich cultural and built environment heritage, did not benefit significantly from these events. Rather, during this time, the area received little investment and infrastructure challenges remained. Eventually, it became home to migrant workers and has been associated with poverty and disadvantage (Kimura 2014). By the early 2000s, many historic structures had deteriorated or have been completely lost. In 2008, the Old Town was listed as one of the 100 most endangered sites by the World Monuments Fund (WMF).2 Nevertheless, the Old Town remains one of the most important and well-preserved ­Himalayan settlements. At the centre is the recently restored Leh Palace, a nine-storey structure built in the traditional Tibetan style. Palace restoration began in 1995 after it was purchased from the royal family by Archaeological Survey of India (ASI), who now manage the building as a tourist attraction for the city. While the walls surrounding the Old Town are unfortunately no longer visible, some of the ancient Buddhist gateways – called ‘kagan stupas’ – are still identifiable. And, as we will discuss, many of the historic homes and structures have been rehabilitated through careful renovation. Conservation momentum accelerated after Andre Alexander, founder of the Tibet Heritage Fund, visited Ladakh in 2003 (Azevedo 2018). Later, the Leh Old Town Initiative, a collaboration between the Ladakh Autonomous Hill Development Council and the Tibet Heritage Fund, surveyed and documented buildings and set out a strategy to preserve historic structures, upgrade infrastructure, and improve quality of life in the area (THF 2005). Since this time, local groups have been renovating structures and conducting public works projects in the Old Town area, including Munshi house and Gyaoo house – rehabilitated by LAMO in collaboration with architect John Harrison. In summary, the Old Town of Leh, once the centre of politics, culture, and commerce, experienced several decades of decline, disinvestment, and neglect. In the late 20th century, lacking modern spatial requirements and infrastructure, it was no longer identified as an area of prosperity and became an important home to migrant workers. In the last two decades, a range of efforts have been initiated to improve the area which has led to conservation of many structures, including the Leh Palace and several traditional residences.

148  M. Buser and M. Ahmed Conserving and promoting architectural heritage in the Old Town

The Ladakh Arts and Media Organisation (LAMO) is a charitable, non-governmental organisation, established in 1996 that centres on promoting the creative heritage of the region and supporting ‘diversity and pluralism through the arts and media’ (LAMO 2022). During the early 2000s, LAMO was seeking to expand its contribution to the community beyond educational and arts activities through the conservation and rehabilitation of a historic structure. It was hoped that the structure could serve as a social and cultural hub for the community as well as a model and impetus for historic-sensitive investment into the Old Town. At the same time, John Harrison, a British conservation architect, had been working in Leh (and previously in Lhasa), helping to restore the Old Town structures and advocating heritage conservation. He brought LAMO together with the owners of the Munshi House, a historically important structure in need of emergency repairs. Later, the owners of the neighbouring Gyaoo House approached the team to encourage the expansion of the conservation project to include this additional building. Eventually, agreements were made to restore both houses as part of LAMO’s future community arts and media centre (LAMO now holds a 35-year lease to operate and maintain the structures). Hoping to be a model for future investment and rehabilitation, three significant conservation goals were set out. Firstly, LAMO and the design team hoped to keep intact as much of the traditional architecture and building integrity as possible. No permissions or consents were required from local, regional, or national government agencies. However, as the site was within 100 m of the palace, the ASI was notified of the project and the architect, Mr Harrison, gave verbal reports and updates to the Hill Council (local authority) each year. Secondly, as much as possible, the project sought to re-use what was onsite or source construction materials locally. Thirdly, the team sought to raise awareness of the viability of rehabilitation in the Old Town, centring on heritage and local identity. The style of building in the Old Town is generally vernacular Ladakhi, employing a frame of timber columns and beams surrounded by masonry with a flat roof. Somewhat unique to the Ladakhi style is the incorporation of a balcony, or ‘rabsal’, enclosed by intricate wooden lattices. These south facing balconies are prominent features on both Munshi and Gyaoo Houses and provide a cosy spot for enjoying the winter sun. They are also sign of status and a family’s prosperity as wood is a scarce resource in Ladakh. Moreover, the houses are set in a site of prominence and cultural significance, clearly visible on the slope just underneath the Leh Palace (see Figure 12.1).

Figure 12.1  Tsemo hill, the Old Town, and Leh Palace. The LAMO centre is highlighted within the box. Source: Photo by Tashi Morup.

Role of community arts organisations   149 This location shows the importance of the residents during the time of the Kingdom of Ladakh. It is understood that, at one time, the Munshi House was home to the King’s secretary, while the Gyaoo residents were artisans who may have worked or performed for royalty. Both houses were abandoned at the time of restoration. While Munshi House had been empty since 1984, no one had lived in Gyaoo House for about 75 years. As a result, there was very little remaining of this structure, as the roof and top floor had been removed and many other walls and floors had collapsed. Further, when work started both houses were filled with rubbish and human waste which needed to be collected and carefully disposed. Rehabilitation of both houses (see Figure 12.2 for before and after photographs) and conversion into the LAMO centre took four years (2006--2010). After site preparation, the team worked to make the structures safe by rebuilding walls and foundations and repairing support beams. Some of the rooms had deteriorated to the extent that they could not be saved, particularly in Gyaoo House where most of the walls and floors had collapsed. However, Munshi

Figure 12.2  The LAMO centre before and after restoration. Source: Photos by Monisha Ahmed.

150  M. Buser and M. Ahmed House was in better condition and was restored using many of the original building elements. For example, a small private Buddhist chapel (chodkhang) with decorative paintings had been built on the roof. While it had suffered from water damage and structural deformation, it was restored to its earlier condition. Pillars and beams were realigned and raised, new structural supports were put in place and the paintings were restored. Now complete, the Chapel serves as a quiet space for reading and contemplation for LAMO staff and visitors. At the front of the structures, the fragile wooden balcony lattices were recovered (some were lying in pieces in the yard surrounding the structures) and restored by Ladakhi carpenters. Throughout the project, traditional materials and construction systems were used and building elements were salvaged (e.g., broken bricks were remoulded, beams, pillars, and windows were repaired). The project is considered a great success and was recognised by UNESCO in 2018 with an award for Cultural Heritage Conservation. Restoration of Munshi House and Gyaoo House also provides insight into the unique challenges of heritage conservation in places such as Leh. The first challenge relates to labour issues in hinterland areas. Seeking economic security, many Ladakhi artisans are employed on work that provides a consistent, year-round salary. The oneoff nature of LAMO’s conservation project – which could only take place during the warmer months of the year – meant it was difficult to employ local labour. With the lack of a steady, available local workforce, migrant labourers from the surrounding region were employed. ­Labour challenges were further compounded when builders and craftsmen refused to work until they were convinced that the house was not haunted. The second challenge involved working in the confined spaces of the Old Town. The Munshi and Gyaoo Houses can only be accessed via narrow alleys and pathways. This meant it was difficult to get construction equipment and materials to the sites. This issue was compounded by local regulations which mandated that all deliveries needed to be made at night (slowing down the project and raising costs for loading and unloading labourers). In terms of the relationship to the built environment, the significance here is that some of the ‘ideals’ of heritage conservation (e.g., using traditional methods, materials, and labour) may be difficult to adhere to and some flexibility and improvisation is likely to be needed to complete such challenging projects. Since restoration of the two houses, some further conservation of the Old Town has taken place. Yet, many structures are still deteriorating and under threat of being lost forever. However, LAMO is continuing to celebrate the Old Town and its architectural heritage and working to engage local people in various cultural projects and events. These efforts will be discussed in the following section. Creativity and culture in the community

Located in the carefully restored Munshi and Gyaoo historic houses, since 2010, LAMO has been delivering its vision to provide a space for the understanding and development of the arts in Ladakh. Today, the centre includes space for art galleries, offices, a library and reading room, screening and conference rooms, a sound studio, as well as an outdoor performance site. It is a community arts hub that supports a range of arts activities including workshops, lectures, research, exhibitions, and residencies. The primary focus of these efforts revolves around showcasing Ladakh’s material and visual culture, its performing arts, and its literature. A critical component of these activities has been engaging directly with the challenges facing Leh and the Old Town. Unfortunately, the Old Town has been a long-standing site of disinvestment. While the Leh Palace was restored by the Archaeological Survey of India in the late 1990s, the area below the palace has not improved significantly. As noted above, infrastructure here is extremely poor (there is no running water or public sewage). Between 2010 and 2013,

Role of community arts organisations   151

Figure 12.3  Community mapping project organised and led by LAMO. Source: Photo by Tashi Morup.

LAMO conducted a community project to research, document, and disseminate information on the water cultures of the Old Town (see Figure 12.3). The project looked at histories and cultures of water, sanitation, and hygiene and the contemporary situation. To draw attention to the serious challenges facing people living in the area, local government officials were invited to the exhibition – some of whom had never been to the Old Town! The involvement of LAMO as a neighbourhood advocate has led to increased awareness among politicians about the quality of life and built environment challenges facing residents. The LAMO centre has also become an important space for local and regional residents to learn key skills and explore their artistic talents. For example, the organisation regularly offers workshops on media and digital literacy, exhibition curation, filmmaking, writing, photography, and other areas of the arts. Another set of workshops and activities focus on the lives and challenges facing of Ladakhi people including topics such as women’s empowerment and sexual health, water security, impacts of the outward migration of young people, heritage conservation, development and tourism, pollution, and other environmental issues. Through the years, the theme of water has remained central to LAMO’s outreach work. In 2019, the centre hosted an exhibition curated by Ladakhi artist Tsering Motup Siddho that explored the role of water in the lives of Ladakhi people ranging from the struggles of living with poor infrastructure to the consequences of climate change and melting glaciers in the Himalayas. More recently, LAMO conducted a series of participatory workshops to understand the impacts of environmental change on the water security of people living in rural areas of Ladakh, where climate change is disrupting traditional ways of life. Importantly, these creative activities and workshops provide support and visibility for regional artists. In addition to showcasing their work at exhibitions, several Ladakhi creative practitioners have benefited by having access to LAMO’s resources (e.g., visual archive, library, and exhibition spaces), while others have taken up residencies to develop their artistic skills or establish installations. Moreover, the centre situates Ladakhi culture within an international network of arts and culture. This includes exchanges with international organisations and opportunities for Ladakhi artists to reach new audiences. LAMO often hosts exhibitions and lectures

152  M. Buser and M. Ahmed from international artists and scholars as well as PhD students. They have also organised exhibitions of Ladakhi artists in other parts of India. These activities facilitate wider relevance and visibility of the region’s unique creativity and culture and forge important global connections. They also bring energy and tourist activity into the area (LAMO leads a wonderful heritage walk through the streets and alleys of the Old Town). The organisation employs a small number of staff members who organise events, conduct outreach and maintain LAMO’s archives and resources. However, in Ladakh, working at an arts organisation can be seen as taking a risk. Commonly, people in the region aspire to the assurances and security of government employment. As a small organisation, LAMO struggles to compete with some of the financial and job-security benefits of these more conventional jobs. However, this also means there is more flexibility and a closer bond and connection across the team. Tashi Morup is the LAMO Project Director and has worked with the organisation for ten years. His role involves organising and running projects and events and ensuring the centre is lively and active. A journalist by training who grew up in Leh, Mr Morup told us that he has found the job extremely rewarding. With pride, he noted how his role at LAMO allows him to work on some of the city’s most significant challenges and to support the advancement and celebration of local culture. Further, he noted that the presence of an arts and media centre in the Old Town has stimulated investment and generated enthusiasm for the area. Overall, in addition to direct contributions to the physical fabric of the neighbourhood, ­LAMO’s engagement with the Old Town community is contributing to a growing awareness of the challenges and special value the place holds. Their work signals that this isolated place is worth care and investment. The programming of diverse activities and events supports residents and artists and has contributed to improving the quality of life for many Ladakhi people. Discussion Earlier, we discussed some of the potential positive and negative impacts of arts and heritageled regeneration and creative city approaches. To date, there has not been a systematic economic study of the relationship between LAMO and other heritage projects and the wider community. However, our observations suggest that life in the Old Town remains largely as it has for the past several decades, characterised by deteriorating buildings and poor water, sanitation, and transport infrastructure. Yet, small changes are taking place. In addition to the LAMO centre, several other buildings have been rehabilitated in traditional styles. Particularly interesting and relevant, several artists who began with LAMO, or worked at the organisation for a time, have established their own studios in the Old Town. The attraction of a few artists to the area has not dramatically altered the demographic characteristics as the Old Town remains largely populated by migrant labourers in search of affordable housing. Meanwhile, LAMO continues to advocate for the Old Town, focusing on water, streetlights, sewage and drainage, and other infrastructural and quality of life improvements. In terms of infrastructure, pipes have been laid for drinking water (although the water is not yet flowing to people’s taps) and there have been some improvements to drainage. Yet, most of the recent change to the physical fabric of the Old Town has not been sensitive to the architectural heritage of the area. Indeed, with weak planning and building regulations, most construction projects use concrete and steel rather than reuse materials or replicate the historic style. By way of example, a historic monastery just beneath the Leh Palace was recently demolished and rebuilt using modern materials. In theory, as the site is within 100 metres of the palace, any reconstruction is required to maintain the traditional architectural vernacular. However, this regulation was not enforced. Indeed, there are significant challenges to rehabilitation and

Role of community arts organisations   153 revitalisation of the Old Town. Yet, many people are working towards the establishment of stronger historic building standards and designation of the area as a World Heritage Site. That LAMO is at the centre of this activity signals their continuing advocacy and awareness of the connections between creativity, creative arts organisations, and the built environment. Conclusion The LAMO case and the organisation’s engagement with the physical and cultural fabric of the Old Town provide important insights into the relations between creativity and the built environment. Leh is a beautiful, historic city, set at the western edge of the Himalayan mountains. At 3,500 m above sea level, the landscape has a barren, almost lunar quality that is both foreboding and majestic. Buildings in the Old Town are clustered below Leh Palace along a steep, southernfacing slope. Collecting warmth from the sun, the buildings provide a postcard-ready vision of the Tibetan influenced architecture and life in the city of Leh. Working for over 20 years in the area and campaigning for recognition of its architectural heritage, LAMO has established itself as a key stakeholder in revitalisation and conservation of the Old Town. Initially, this centred on conservation of two historic residences. These structures, now home to the LAMO centre, serve as a demonstration of the value and potential of this unique, but threatened, built form. In subsequent years, the organisation has also established an active programme of cultural activities and community outreach that supports the engagement of artists, stakeholders, and residents to explore the critical challenges facing the city and region. The case provides a unique perspective into the role of community arts organisations in the Global South working in areas of heritageled regeneration and placemaking. Further, it amplifies and widens the existing evidence that shows how creative activity can be an important contributor to revitalisation and improvements in the built environment. Notes 1 This chapter is based on the observations and reflections of the LAMO founder and director (one of the authors), qualitative interviews and informal discussions with stakeholders and a review of project documentation and reports. 2 https://www.wmf.org/project/leh-old-townleh-palace

References Azadeh Lak, Mahdi Gheitasi and Timothy, Dallen J., 2020. Urban regeneration through heritage tourism: Cultural policies and strategic management. Journal of Tourism and Cultural Change, 18(4), pp. 386–403. Azevedo, Pimpim de, 2018. The transformation of Leh, Old Town: An update. Orientations, 49(6), pp. 110–113. Buser, M., Bonura, C., Fannin, M. and Boyer, K., 2013. Cultural activism and the politics of place-making. City, 17(5), pp. 606–627. Chapple, K. and Jackson, S., 2010. Commentary: Arts, neighborhoods, and social practices: Towards an integrated epistemology of community arts. Journal of Planning Education and Research, 29(4), pp. 478–490. Delconte, J., Kline, C.S. and Scavo, C., 2016. The impacts of local arts agencies on community placemaking and heritage tourism. Journal of Heritage Tourism, 11(4), pp. 324–335. Evans, G., 2009. Creative cities, creative spaces and urban policy. Urban Studies, 46(5–6), pp. 1003–1040. Florida, R., 2002. The rise of the creative class: And how it’s transforming work, leisure, community and everyday life, New York, Basic Books.

154  M. Buser and M. Ahmed Foster, N., Grodach, C. and Murdoch, J. III, 2016. Neighborhood diversity, economic health, and the role of the arts. Journal of Urban Affairs, 38(5), pp. 623–642. Kapp, P.H., 2017. The artisan economy and post-industrial regeneration in the US. Journal of Urban ­Design, 22(4), pp. 477–493. Kimura, M., 2014. Past forward: understanding change in Old Leh Town, Ladakh, North India (Master’s thesis, Norwegian University of Life Sciences, Ås). LAMO, 2022. Ladakh Arts and Media Organisation: An Alternative Vision for the Arts and Media. ­[online] https://lamo.org.in/. Accessed 26 September 2022. Landry, C., 2000. The creative city: A toolkit for urban innovators, London, Earthscan. Ley, D., 2003. Artists, aestheticisation and the field of gentrification. Urban Studies, 40(12), pp. 2527–2544. Long, J., 2010. Weird city: Sense of place and creative resistance in Austin, Texas, Austin, University of Texas Press. Makagon, Daniel, 2010. Bring on the shock troops: Artists and gentrification in the popular press. Communication and Critical/Cultural Studies, 7(1), pp. 26–52. Marianna d’Ovidio, Arturo Rodríguez Morató, 2017. Introduction to SI: Against the creative city: Activism in the creative city: When cultural workers fight against creative city policy. City, Culture and Society, 8, pp. 3–6. Markusen, A. and Gadwa, A., 2010. Arts and culture in urban or regional planning: A review and research agenda. Journal of Planning Education and Research, 29(3), pp. 379–391. Mathews, V., 2010. Aestheticizing space: Art, gentrification and the city. Geography Compass, 4(6), pp. 660–675. Ning, Y. and Chang, T.C., 2022. Production and consumption of gentrification aesthetics in Shanghai’s M50. Transactions – Institute of British Geographers (1965), 47(1), pp. 184–199. Noonan, D., 2013. How US cultural districts reshape neighborhoods. Cultural Trends, 22(3–4), pp. 203–212. Peck, J., 2005. Struggling with the creative class. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 29(4), pp. 740–770. Reeve, A. and Shipley, R., 2014. Heritage-based regeneration in an age of austerity: Lessons from the townscape heritage initiative. Journal of Urban Regeneration & Renewal, 7(2), pp. 122–135. Ryberg-Webster, S. and Ashley, A.J., 2018. The nexus of arts and preservation: A case study of ­Cleveland’s Detroit Shoreway Community Development Organization. Change Over Time, 8(1), pp. 32–52, 131–133. Seo, U.S., 2020. Urban regeneration governance, community organizing, and artists’ commitment: A case study of Seongbuk-dong in Seoul. City, Culture and Society, 21, p. 100328. Skoll, G. R. and Korstanje, M., 2014. Urban heritage, gentrification, and tourism in Riverwest and El Abasto. Journal of Heritage Tourism, 9(4), pp. 349–359. Stern, M. and Seifert, S., 2010. Cultural clusters: The implications of cultural assets agglomeration for neighborhood revitalization. Journal of Planning Education and Research, 29(3), pp. 262–279. Tibet Heritage Fund, 2005. Leh Old Town, Ladakh – A participatory approach to urban conservation, community-based upgrading and capacity-building. A report by Andre Alexander, Ladakh, India, International Tibet Heritage Fund. Zimmerman, J., 2008. From brew town to cool town: Neoliberalism and the creative city development strategy in Milwaukee. Cities, 25(4), pp. 230–242. Zukin, S., 1982. Loft living: Culture and capital in urban change, Baltimore, MD, Johns Hopkins University Press.

13

Learning by failing better Coproducing creativity in the informal city of Los Arenales, Chile Martin Arias-Loyola and Francisco Vergara-Perucich

Framing creative endeavours within informal urban territories As this volume shows, several ideas and definitions come to mind when discussing the broad relationship between creativity and the built environment. Even more so when we look at how the mix of such abstract and concrete territorial specificities interact within informal urban spaces such as slums. This chapter aims to contribute to these crucial topics by focusing on a vertical slide of such a great empirical and conceptual cake: how the (sometimes painful) lessons left by several experimental attempts to establish the rights to the [formal] city and to live with dignity, might lead to failing better towards those objectives. Especially when multidimensional and dynamic efforts are coproduced by – somehow historically disconnected under neoliberalism – actors such as informal grassroot communities, state institutions, NGOs, and academia. This chapter briefly summarises three experiences coproduced between the inhabitants of the macro-slum Los Arenales (Sandy Place), local and international NGOs, state institutions, and academia. These took place in the city of Antofagasta, where several of the minerals needed for decarbonisation processes – such as lithium for batteries and copper for solar panels ­(Barandiarán, 2019) – are exploited and exported by the Chilean ultra-neoliberal economy ­(Boano & Vergara-Perucich, 2017; Harvey, 2005). The chapter focuses on three experiences where multi-actor creativity fuelled a praxis aimed to the concretisation of imagined utopias in the here and now, using the concrete utopia approach of the right to the city agenda (VergaraPerucich & Arias-Loyola, 2019). This, by coproducing: (i) the social innovation of the first cooperative bakery in a Chilean slum; (ii) a service-learning to reinvigorate the social heart of Los Arenales; and (iii) a public participation geographic information systems (PPGIS). The latter two were part of the project Know Your City (KYC) awarded to Los Arenales, funded by the international NGO Slum Dwellers International (SDI) for the first time in Latin America. These experiences were inspired by processes similar to, what Ince (2012) and Springer (2014) call, prefigurative politics. This implies the configuration of horizontal modes of social organisation, with relationships built through cooperation, solidarity, and mutual aid. In the experiences detailed here, those were the main normative pillars of flawed but beautiful, emancipatory projects aimed to proactively bring Los Arenales’ desired world/utopia into concrete existence (Vergara-Perucich & Arias-Loyola, 2019). Before diving into these examples, it is essential to establish a conceptual baseline for the main elements present in the framing and critical evaluation of those creative endeavours. This means, sharing what we – as academics and part of the coproducing group – understood as: social innovations, coproduction, right to the city agenda; as well as the methodologies used in engaged research, such as service-learning in higher education and PPGIS. DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-15

156  M. Arias-Loyola and F. Vergara-Perucich Establishing the conceptual baseline

To promote sustainable forms of social justice for informal urban spaces, scholars have highlighted the strengths of experimental social innovations (Arias-Loyola & Vergara-Perucich, 2021; Heiskala, 2007; Pol & Ville, 2009). Innovations of this kind might prove useful for implementing ‘new ideas with the capacity to spark cultural, normative or regulative changes’ (Arias-Loyola & Vergara-Perucich, 2021), especially when led by impoverished grassroots communities inhabiting such territories. This means reinforcing their political and economic autonomy while also improving their socio-economic performance and resilience. Social innovations consider planning and engaging in direct actions, to make the imagined non-place (utopia) an inhabitable reality (Heiskala, 2007; Pol & Ville, 2009). Furthermore, social innovations are considered beneficial when they are: (i) an authentic and socially realised idea; (ii) able to produce credible evidence about improving the quality and/or quantity of human and nonhuman life; and (iii) in a sustainable manner. By doing this, they augment the available options for a particular society, facilitated through market and/or non-market mechanisms. Noticeably, social innovations fit better with collective forms of [diverse] coproduction of goods, services, and/or knowledges, such as under cooperativism (Gibson-Graham, 2008; Pol & Ville, 2009). Moreover, multi-actor coproduced processes have proved to be a fruitful strategy to challenge and overcome the multidimensional discriminations and exclusions faced by informal urban dwellers (Davis, 2006; Mitlin, 2018; Mitlin & Bartlett, 2018). Here, coproduction is understood as an explicit political strategy through which grassroots organisations and other actors might jointly ensure that basic needs will be satisfied while simultaneously strengthening civil society’s bargaining position and direct participation (Mitlin, 2018; Mitlin & Bartlett, 2018; Whitaker, 1980). Thus, coproduction involves the ‘processes of material and knowledge improvement, as well as capacity and relationship creation’ (Arias-Loyola & Vergara-Perucich, 2021). Certainly, as Mitlin et al (2020) explain, coproduction is also dialectically related to critical knowledge production and dissemination, creative problem-solving, and epistemic autonomy related to urban practices and research. Still, to encourage multi-actor actions that might desired spark processes of radical change, coproduction must be based on collaborative and horizontal power relations, especially between grassroot movements and academia, state institutions, and NGOs (Mitlin & Bartlett, 2018; ­Mitlin et al, 2020). Likewise, coproduction efforts cannot be embraced uncritically since they may be disempowering if: (i) local elites capture the benefits; (ii) new and/or complex responsibilities are delegated to vulnerable groups (Castán Broto & Neves Alves, 2018); and (iii) ends up reinforcing market-oriented behaviour due to a failure in implementing democratic, participative and horizontally networked interdependencies (Arias-Loyola & Vergara-Perucich, 2021; Swyngedouw, 2005). Coproducing an agenda for social innovations and change can be extremely daunting and challenging for any (in)formal urban group. That is why the work done with and for Los ­Arenales’ inhabitants were done under the right to the city agenda. Developed by Lefebvre (1968), the concept of the right to the city is based on organising autonomous communities to create their own spaces and environments while – simultaneously – establishing democratic relations of (co)production aimed to ensure a good and dignified life (Purcell, 2013). This starkly contrasts with capitalistic socio-economic structures – especially within intense neoliberal contexts – where the urban poor are expelled from the formal to the informal spaces (Boano & Vergara-Perucich, 2017; Harvey, 2008; Vergara-Perucich & Arias-Loyola, 2019). Recently, a plethora of authors have advanced the implementation of the right to the city by fostering closer social and horizontal relationships between civil society (especially grassroot

Learning by failing better  157 movements) and academia based on cooperation and mutual aid (Arias-Loyola & Vergara-­ Perucich, 2020; Garnier, 2012; Harvey, 2008; Purcell, 2013). They posit that academia should proactively coproduce and perform ‘the worlds we would like to inhabit’ (Gibson-Graham, 2008) by implementing the right to the city agenda. As Lefebvre (1968) explained, such agenda rises from the communal thinking of the concrete utopia, meaning the multi-actor efforts and plans, to move from solidary proposals to their actual realisation within the built environment. This could be achieved by recovering and/or establishing modes of (co)production of the urban habitat, which would be inconceivable under orthodox capitalism and neoliberal-based ideologies (Vergara-Perucich & Boano, 2021). Consequently, to achieve the right to the [formal] city, it is crucial that academics work for and with local communities, developing autonomous socio-economic and political modes of habitat (co and re)production (Arias-Loyola, VergaraPerucich & Vega-Rojas, 2023). Methodologies for failing better

After summarising the main conceptual underpinnings of the experiences we took part in, it is now time to briefly detail the methodologies used to coproduce the three experiences mentioned before (cooperative bakery, service-learning, and PPGIS). In terms of knowledge coproduction, all of them were framed as case studies, following an explanation building (Yin, 2009) logic produced cooperatively with key actors involved in the projects. The data collection, description, and analysis of each case took place through an engaged research stance. Engaged research entails an approach to rigorously producing a collaborative interaction with and for (and not at the cost of) a community. Its objectives are understanding and correcting problems and obstacles faced by the engaged community (Arias-Loyola & Vergara-Perucich, 2021). The main moral imperative is, then, that researched subjects are active actors in examining social issues instead of bystanders without any agency (Blake, 2007). Engaged researchers work in a tight multi-actor partnership but keep a negotiated distance of intellectual autonomy to critically evaluate the process (Ang, 2006). This way of coproducing knowledge rests on establishing mutual reciprocity, long-term relationships, critical assessments of human and non-human ecosystemic issues, acknowledging and embracing diversity, discrepancies, conflicts, and the ethical/practical effects of methodological decisions (Ang, 2006; Arvanitakis & Hodge, 2012). When directly engaged, researchers might play a part as another key actor in a horizontal relational team or network. Likewise, they are ethically co-responsible for the accomplishments and defeats of the experiences, and are directly involved in coproducing and disseminating useful and critical knowledge (Arias-Loyola & Vergara-Perucich, 2021; Mitlin et al, 2020). One way academics engaged with Los Arenales’ struggle for its right to the [formal] city was through the implementation of a service-learning methodology, where several local and international actors were involved (Arias-Loyola, et al., 2023). Service-learning is a pedagogical methodology with many definitions, but Deeley (2016) identifies its roots in the political, philosophical, and educational work of authors such as John Dewey (1933, 1938) and Paulo Freire (1970): they both promote critical pedagogy through dialogical education and praxis in and with the world, to generate a more just society. These ideas framed the latter formalisation of service-learning by Sigmon (1979) as a practice representing ‘the coming together of many hearts and minds seeking to express compassion with others [allowing] a learning style to grow out of service’ (Sigmon, 1979). When also considering more current definitions, service-learning can be understood as an educational and political methodology where: (i) real community needs are detected, whose solution will improve the lives of those participating (contact with reality); (ii) the service is defined and agreed jointly and cooperatively with the community (reciprocity); and (iii) critical

158  M. Arias-Loyola and F. Vergara-Perucich reflection is constantly carried out, linking the experience with academic reflection, while also assessing the incorporation and/or strengthening of personal values around empathy, solidarity, and civil responsibility (reflection) (Felten & Clayton, 2011; Francisco & Moliner, 2010; Páez Sánchez & Puig Rovira, 2013; Salam et al, 2019). Furthermore, the knowledge coproduced critically and reflectively during the experience is compulsorily evaluated, differentiating service-learning from volunteering and activism (Gerholz et al, 2018; Arias-Loyola, et al., 2023). Service-learning has proven to deliver valuable tools for all actors involved, which can only be acquired through such an educational reflective experience, enhancing education for active and critical citizenship (Francisco & Moliner, 2010; Puig Rovira et al, 2011). In this way, citizenship means that we cannot exist and live in solitude – being in the world in an individualistic way – but we must do so with other people and in harmony with the environment – being with the world in solidarity (Freire, 1997; Puig Rovira et al, 2011). Thus, the service performed seeks to empower all those who participate in it, intending to change the world for the better (Puig ­Rovira et al, 2011). Nonetheless, service-learning might also have negative effects on uninterested and/ or uncollaborative students, teachers or other participating actors, such as mental stress, emotional disturbances, and unrealised expectations (Deeley, 2016; Felten & Clayton, 2011). Another method to achieve of the right to the [formal] city required practices where the urban poor control certain primary data-generating processes – such as surveying, mapping, and classifying – within their own communities. Such processes can facilitate the development of new capacities among slum-dwellers while also collecting critical information that could positively inform, influence, and hasten their decisions about their desired urban future (Bryan, 2011; de Vries, 2016). Yet, since the process of territorial data gathering is mostly done by the state, it has facilitated actions against the slum-dwellers’ interests. Gladly, and since such data is public, the state can (and it probably will) be challenged when the information is perceived as substandard and/or inconsistent. Informal urban communities can use said data too, to develop spatial information about their settlements based on Geographic Information Systems (GIS). GIS makes complex spatial information more accessible, comprehensible, and useful to broader audiences that might lack technical knowledge. This strengthens the decision-making processes related to structural urban transformations and collective projects aimed to upgrade a territory and ensure spatial justice (Jankowski & Nyerges, 2001; Vergara-Perucich & Arias-Loyola, 2021). The collective engagement of communities in coproducing GIS layers has been referred to as the public participation geographic information systems (PPGIS) approach (Sieber, 2006). ­PPGIS encompass grassroots communities using GIS to strengthen their bargaining position in the public debate about the built urban – formal and informal – spaces. Although PPGIS have been criticised for lacking positional accuracy (Brown et al, 2015), their use among dispossessed communities has rich qualitative outcomes, allowing the collective construction of analytical maps (Vergara-Perucich & Arias-Loyola, 2021). This practice has proven to be extremely useful for making consensual decisions, empowering the participants, and fostering a stronger and deeper sense of belonging. PPGIS could engage communities in recognising and mapping their own urban life and to perceive themselves as active political actors, struggling for their right to a dignified and formal urban life. In this way, PPGIS are useful tool for fostering the struggle for the right to the city by bridging gaps in technical knowledge through multi-actor coproduction of information (Vergara-Perucich & Arias-Loyola, 2021). Coproducing three experiences in the (in)formal Latin American city of Los Arenales Los Arenales is a macro-slum located in the city of Antofagasta, within the Region of ­Antofagasta, Chile (see Figures 13.1 and 13.2). This region expands through the Atacama Desert – the driest

Learning by failing better  159

Figure 13.1 Map Chile indicating the location of the city of Antofagasta and the location of Los Arenales within this city. Source: Vergara-Perucich and Arias-Loyola (2021).

160  M. Arias-Loyola and F. Vergara-Perucich

Figure 13.2  Macrocampamento Los Arenales. Source: Authors.

worldwide – and holds the largest deposits of copper and molybdenum and the second largest of lithium worldwide. Los Arenales is considered a macrocampamento, since it is comprised by around 16 campamentos,1 where almost 2,400 households live and are politically organised under the association Los Arenales, Rompiendo Barreras (The Sandy Place, Breaking Barriers) (Vergara-Perucich & Arias-Loyola, 2019). The ultra-neoliberal Chilean context has made Los Arenales’ growth both easier – by displacing workers from the formal to the informal city due to the high cost of living and relative low wages2 – as well as difficult – by regularly using the state’s control of political institutions that could make several of Los Arenales’ demands possible (Arias-Loyola & Vergara-Perucich, 2020, 2021). Paradoxically, the Chilean case was long promoted as an example of stable macroeconomic development through extractive exports, such as mining, forestry, and fishing-related primary products (Arias-Loyola et al, 2022; Foxley, 2004; Friedman, 1994). Still, the country has recently shown how its extreme – and internationally overlooked – territorial inequalities led to one of the largest social outburst to date (Arias-Loyola, 2021; Mayol, 2019). Moreover, the deepening of an extractivist model, which can only flourish at the cost of the resource peripheries, has also led to the establishment of several ‘sacrifice zones’,3 especially within extractive regions such as Antofagasta (Weinberg, 2021). It is amidst this challenging context where Los Arenales managed to articulate a robust network of multi-actor social relationships that have proven crucial in defining their urban utopia and the strategies and mechanisms to make such dynamic project a reality. This has implied the political articulation between Los Arenales’

Learning by failing better  161 grassroot community, local and international NGOs, academia, planners and other professionals, and the state (Arias-Loyola & Vergara-Perucich, 2020, 2021; Arias-Loyola, et al., 2023). Thus, what started as a couple of families informally ‘taking’ a piece of land in 2012 has led to the implementation of several projects. Today, Los Arenales is regionally, nationally and internationally recognised by grassroot urban activists and communities as an example of resilience, solidarity, and clarity in their struggle to implement both the right to the [formal] city and their right to dignified housing. Los Arenales is also home of the feminist, immigrant activist, cooperativist, community leader, and National Awarded of Human Rights of 2022, ­Elizabeth Andrade, as well as several other strong female leaderships thriving amidst an extremely rich mix of Latin American immigrant families. During the last decade, they have managed to greatly advance in concretising their urban utopia of – what they call – the ‘Los Arenales, the First [and formal] Latin American City’. To get there, multiple actors coproduced several social innovations, which, despite their flaws, contributed to the consolidation of this process. Among these, we will briefly summarise the coproduction of three processes that we – as engaged ­academics – took part in: (i) the first cooperative bakery in a Chilean slum; (ii) a service-learning; and (iii) a PPGIS. Cooperative bread and the right to the city

As Gibson-Graham et al (2013) recognise, in capitalistic free market contexts, such as the ultraneoliberal Chile, informal economic activities based on principles of solidarity and cooperation might turn into social innovations. This was the case when, in 2017, the community leaders of Los Arenales (Elizabeth Andrade, among them) met with two academics from the Observatorio Regional de Desarrollo Humano4 (ORDHUM) of the Universidad Católica del Norte (UCN), through the local NGO ATTAS-FRACTAL (FRACTAL, from now on). The conversation revolved around how to address the macrocampamento’s vulnerabilities regarding to their informal urban situation. This materialised as a workshop in Los Arenales about the right to the city and the concrete utopia, where the collective thinking about possible urban futures and the political actions required to activate these possibilities, materialised in an urban manifesto (still used by Los Arenales’ inhabitants to this day). One of its core principles was to promote economic and political autonomy by controlling the means of production to coproduce their right to the formal city in the here and now (Arias-Loyola & Vergara-Perucich, 2020, 2021; VergaraPerucich & Arias-Loyola, 2019). This, as well as the visit of the UN housing speaker to Los Arenales and the seminars carried out by FRACTAL and other activists about cooperativism, created a unique alignment of interests to create a cooperative. Still, the actors lacked funding, so they reached to the Social Development Ministry’s Social Innovation Program (FOSIS). FOSIS approved around £10,000 as the initial capital for setting up a cooperative as long as it was coproduced between Los Arenales Rompiendo Barreras, FRACTAL, and university academics (Arias-Loyola & VergaraPerucich, 2020). To symbolically represent the rich intercultural background of Los Arenales’ ­inhabitants – since around 80% of them are Latin American immigrants – a cooperative bakery was the chosen endeavour. Bread, particularly, was considered to represent the sharing of a meal under the warmth of a dignified inhabited space while also reflecting the diversity of its preparations in each Latin American country (Vergara-Perucich & Arias-Loyola, 2019). It took several months of training in business management of a cooperative and baking by two local universities and FRACTAL, the implementation of the physical space and the consolidation of the initial group of 12 members of the cooperative to finally start production under the name of CINTRA5 Los Arenales (as Figure 13.3 depicts). Noticeably, 11 of them were women,

162  M. Arias-Loyola and F. Vergara-Perucich

Figure 13.3  Production of bread by female cooperativists in the cooperative bakery CINTRA Los Arenales. Source: Vergara-Perucich and Arias-loyola (2019).

but they still assigned the role of main administrator to the only man. However, since everything took place in less than a year, several issues turn fissures into cracks, leading to the confrontation of two groups of workers: the ones following a capitalistic and hierarchical logic, and others defending the cooperativist values of the project. Simultaneously, the academics involved faced several pressures from both within and outside their universities, such as firing threats, defamation, and censorship; FRACTAL was focused on securing the installation of the bakery; and FOSIS reduced its participation to providing the funds (Arias-Loyola & Vergara-Perucich, 2021; Vergara-Perucich & Arias-Loyola, 2019). Cracks created a rift, and after a few months of production, the first cooperative bakery coproduced in a Chilean slum stopped its production. However, after a medium break and a deep critical reflection, some of the cooperativist women opened their doors again, even incorporating new services (Arias-Loyola & Vergara-Perucich, 2020). The time spent on critical reflection allowed the cooperativists, academics, and FRACTAL to learn from past mistakes and aim to fail better. This is what the group involved in this project recognised as the ‘coproduction of the right to fail’ (Arias-Loyola & Vergara-Perucich, 2021), something to be fostered due to its crucial role in ensuring creative experimentation and social innovations. A service-learning to depict the colours of a struggle

When the group comprised by Los Arenales Rompiendo Barreras, FRACTAL, and ORDHUM academics was critically evaluating the cooperative bakery project, a new opportunity arose.

Learning by failing better  163 The bakery was noticed by activist of the international NGO SDI, who suggested that Los Arenales could apply for their KYC funding. Since the cooperative bakery experience cemented the mutual trust and friendship among the three actors, they agreed to planning, applying, and implementing the first KYC project funded in Latin America. The project included different coproduced activities aimed at empowering and generating political and economic autonomy among the inhabitants of Los Arenales such as a course to strengthen informal community leaders, topographic and participatory mapping of the slum, and the implementation of a service-learning activity between students from UCN, Fractal, and Los Arenales, aimed at raising internal and external awareness of Los Arenales’ right to the city (Arias-Loyola, et al., 2023). Thus, during early 2018, the three actors decided to experiment with the service-learning methodology, since it facilitates the teaching-learning-research political praxis, promoting awareness and improvement of the world through experiential work and critical reflection as detailed in Arias-Loyola, et al., 2023. The project involved the students of Architecture, Commercial Engineering, and Management Control Engineering in a service-learning project aimed at the coproduction of a public and symbolic space within Los Arenales. This took place as the painting of facades in a space of symbolic, political, and geographical importance for the slum: the football field, which is where sports, social events, and meetings took place. The service-learning did not receive KYC funding, though, since that was tasked to the Commercial Engineering and Management Control Engineering students as a challenge to their professional creativity. The design was coproduced and agreed between the future Architects and Los Arenales’ inhabitants and represented the diverse multi-national composition of Los Arenales and its struggle to generate – in the words of one leader – ‘the Latin American city of Los Arenales’. This was represented in the colours of the different flags, intertwined in shapes that depict the hills where Los Arenales is located, as well as the strong community links among its inhabitants. Hence, the slum was made visible to its formal neighbours, by colouring one of its most important facades (see Figure 13.4). The project involved 123 students, the participation of FRACTAL, professionals, and ORDHUM’s academics in every stage (from providing tools to work for and with slum dwellers to helping in the painting itself). All this resulted in the creative coproduction of the painting of ten facades and a final – compulsory and evaluated – critical academic reflection (Arias-Loyola, et al., 2023). During the painting, the general atmosphere was one of joy and cordiality among students, teachers, inhabitants, and collaborators. Such mood was reinforced when lunch was spontaneously offered by some inhabitants to everyone participating in the painting. In Los Arenales, food represents gratitude, solidarity, trust, and mutual aid (Arias-Loyola, et al., 2023). The painting went smoothly, and the work was completed by the end of the second day. On this occasion, some of Los Arenales’s inhabitants asked to form a circular embrace with all the participants, thanking everyone present. The students and teachers also shared some words, making the closing a highly emotional and symbolic moment. The activity was enthusiastically received by local media, which highlighted the initiative as an experiential, experimental, horizontal, and sensitive training space for the incorporation of slum dwellers into the formal city of Antofagasta (El Regionalista, 2018; UCN, 2018). The initiative was also positively valued by students, both in terms of their professional and personal development, and local authorities and politicians (Arias-Loyola, et al., 2023). PPGIS to coproduce knowledge leading to a dignified life

The third experience we want to portray here was the implementation of community mapping by PPGIS. This was part of a four-way partnership between slum-dwellers, NGOs, local

164  M. Arias-Loyola and F. Vergara-Perucich

Figure 13.4  Service-learning activity finished. Source: Authors.

professionals, and academia (ORDHUM) formed during the KYC project. The PPGIS took place after several other activities of the KYC project finished or were being implemented, meaning that Los Arenales’ inhabitants already had developed a strong commitment to upgrading their slums and achieving dignifying living conditions (Vergara-Perucich & Arias-Loyola, 2019, 2021). Hence, the shift to long-term strategies related to planning the concrete urban utopia led to the need of creating a participatory map of the territory. Such input would allow to recognise the conflicts, opportunities, and meanings of Los Arenales’ inhabited spaces while also underpinning other aspects of the KYC project. For example, mapping the macrocampamento is a reglementary request for applying to the state’s Solidary Fund Program for Housing in Chile, which was an implicit aim of the KYC. The team that organised the PPGIS was interdisciplinary, including an urban planner, an architect, three psychologists, an economic geographer, and well-established residents of Los Arenales, whose role was to put the spatial history of this informal settlement into the map. The team recruited the 12 slum-dwellers who had been living in the macrocampamento the longest (Vergara-Perucich & Arias-Loyola, 2021). The focus was to register on a projected map how Los Arenales’ residents interpreted the spatial evolution of the different settlements, the main conflicts, and the key moments leading to the macrocampamento’s expansion from 2012 to 2018. The activity was designed in four stages: (i) debating the origins of Los Arenales, meaning to reveal the hidden history of the settlement; (ii) reconstructing the spatial history of Los Arenales, centred on the mapping

Learning by failing better  165 process to spatialise the discussion held in the previous stage; (iii) mapping points of interest in the settlement, where each participant received a current printed map of the macrocampamento and coloured pens to represent certain concepts in space (conflict, evictions, best and worst areas, water sources, vehicle accesses, favourite places, dangerous areas, spaces with landslide risks and spaces where fires are likely to happen); and (iv) a posteriori socialisation of the principal outcomes, where academics shared the maps and analyses with Los Arenales’ dwellers (Vergara-­Perucich & Arias-Loyola, 2021). This experience of PPGIS allowed to elaborate cartographies of the unique life history of Los Arenales. Mapping how each campamento was formed and strengthened the narrative of their shared history, a sense of resilience, pride, autonomy, and belonging. Moreover, the PPGIS allowed Los Arenales’ inhabitants to further convince themselves of their right of being seen, heard, recognised, and incorporated to the formal city. From a practical perspective, the experience provided a useful and novel cartography relevant for bargaining with authorities and public servants about the possibilities urbanising this space based on the priorities, meanings, and expectations of the community. It also allowed better organising the relational and lived spaces. Specifically, regarding to the macrocampamento’s decisionmaking processes, by prioritising local improvements and future political actions, considering the specific features and needs of each sector of the settlement (Vergara-Perucich & Arias-Loyola, 2021). Concluding remarks This chapter offers valuable lessons regarding to the complex, dynamic, and multifaceted relationship between creativity and the [informal] built environment. This, by focusing on the urban political praxis, meaning concepts, and their empirical applications, of three experiences coproduced by actors usually disengaged under strong neoliberal contexts. The actors were the informal grassroot community of the macrocampamento Los Arenales, Chilean state institutions, local and international NGOs, and academics. The experiences were: (i) the social innovation of the first cooperative bakery in a Chilean slum; (ii) a service-learning to paint the social heart of Los Arenales; and (iii) a PPGIS. The objective was to explore what the urban utopia would look like, to plan how to make it happen in the concrete here and now, and to provide resources to demand Los Arenales’ right to the [formal] city. The struggles were many, as well as the failures, but what was created, learned, and lived still shapes the lives of everyone directly and/or indirectly involved in these processes. The above highlights the fundamental relevance of the processes involved in the emancipation of the urban poor of their conditions as second class (if they live in informal territories) or third class (if they are also immigrants) citizens. By this, we propose that what allowed the consolidation of a multi-actor and multi-territorial group to grow and increasingly materialise the urban manifesto dreamed by Los Arenales’ inhabitants were: (i) horizontal and honest relationships between grassroot communities, local and international NGOs, academia and the state; (ii) defending ‘the right to fail’ when creating social innovations and critical knowledge; (iii) fully embracing the explicit political nature of the struggle for the right to the city and a dignified life and every project/action related to it; (iv) the continuous critical assessment of every stage of the process; (v) adopting a prefigurative politics stance, where the inexistent place (utopia) is gradually constructed in the here and now through direct action and planification; and (vi) work aimed at empowering and producing more (economic and politically) autonomous communities, so changes achieved are consolidated and keep happening under new coproduction of inhabited spaces.

166  M. Arias-Loyola and F. Vergara-Perucich Notes 1 Chilean denomination for informal housing. 2 According to official reports Gobierno Regional de Antofagasta (2016) Catastro y encuesta a familias de campamentos. Plan de Superación de Campamentos 2015–2018 Antofagasta, Chile, there were 375 households inhabiting Los Arenales in 2016, meaning that such number has increased in around 616% in just seven years. 3 Both in socioeconomic and environmental terms. 4 Regional Observatory for Human Development. 5 In English: International Work Cooperative Community of Workers (female and men) CINTRA Los Arenales.

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168  M. Arias-Loyola and F. Vergara-Perucich Swyngedouw, E. (2005) Governance innovation and the citizen: The Janus face of governance-beyondthe-state. Urban studies, 42(11), 1991–2006. UCN (2018) Con vivos colores estudiantes de la UCN pintaron fachadas de viviendas en Macro Campamento Los Arenales. Noticias UCN al día. Available online: https://www.noticias.ucn.cl/destacado/ con-vivos-colores-estudiantes-de-la-ucn-pintaron-fachadas-de-viviendas-en-macro-campamento-losarenales/ [Accessed 12/11/2021]. Vergara-Perucich, F. & Arias-Loyola, M. (2019) Bread for advancing the right to the city: Academia, grassroots groups and the first cooperative bakery in a Chilean informal settlement. Environment and Urbanization, 31(2), 533–551. Vergara-Perucich, F. & Arias-Loyola, M. (2021) Community mapping with a public participation geographic information system in informal settlements. Geographical Research, 59(2), 268–284. Vergara-Perucich, F. & Boano, C. (2021) The big bang of neoliberal urbanism: The Gigantomachy of ­Santiago’s urban development. Environment Planning C: Politics, 39(1), 184–203. Weinberg, M. (2021) Cuerpos de cobre: Extractivismo en Chuquicamata, Chile. The Journal of Latin American Caribbean Anthropology, 26(2), 200–218. Whitaker, G. P. (1980) Coproduction: Citizen participation in service delivery. Public Administration ­Review, 40(3), 240–246. Yin, R. (2009) Case study research: Design and methods, 4th edition. Thousand Oaks, California: Sage.

14

The circuit of memory, creativity, and built environment in the making in Gwangju, South Korea HaeRan Shin

Introduction This chapter focuses on the interconnectedness of memory, creativity, and the built environment in the case the May 18 Democratic Uprising in Gwangju, South Korea. The nexus between creativity and the built environment has received increasing attention from human geographers and urban scholars, but these discussions have treated creativity in the most general terms and neglected to recognise the challenges in framing different creativities and the role of the built environment in these negotiations. Based on the findings of this case study of Gwangju, South Korea, this research suggests the addition of history and memory to the intersections between creativity and the built environment. This longitudinal study of Gwangju demonstrates that conflicting creativities encounter, negotiate, and renegotiate to produce an outcome that can be significantly different from the original plan. This study asks: how do different creativities that reimagine relevant built environments engage and clash in city strategies for marketing the city of Gwangju? Events during and following the May 18 Democratic Uprising in 1980 set Gwangju apart from other cities in South Korea and require innovative creativities. The site of the greatest armed civilian resistance in the country’s modern history and the first step to a democratic South Korea, the city came to be associated with violent activism. Struggling to attract investors due to the misinformation and negative regionalism disseminated by the military government and the media, the city sought to change its political image. However, a creative city strategy that focused on high art rather than the city’s political history and historical built environments conflicted with those creativities intent on commemorating events. This chapter argues that different creativities relating to the specific memory of a built environment can eventually align and combine to become an asset to urban resilience. Gwangju’s creative city strategies spanning from 1990s to 2022 that competed and renegotiated the nature of the built environment to reform the city’s identity can be divided into three phases. While each phase saw conflicts erupt around the integration, re-found, renovated, and re-created built environment, the development of urban governance in creative place-making has evolved despite necessary reliance on the state’s financial assistance. For the above argument, the rest of the chapter is organised as follows. The next section briefly discusses how previous studies explored the intersections between creativity and the built environment and suggests looking at the interdependent relationship between history, creativity, and the built environment. This is followed by a brief discussion of research ­methods. The findings of the case study are divided into three parts to address each stage. The first stage (1995–2003) is represented by the Gwangju Biennale, which still goes on. The second stage (2004–2013) is an ongoing culture-led urban regeneration through the Asian Culture Hub DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-16

170  H. Shin program (2004–2031). The third stage (2014–present) involves the Media Art Creative City (MACC) designation awarded by UNESCO in 2014. The conclusion discusses the implications of the findings. Creativity, the built environment, and memory Since the early 2000s, debates on the cultural economy of cities (Scott, 1997, 2000) and creativity and the city have been increasing in response to emerging academic and policy agendas. These policy agendas have included creative cities (Scott, 2006), cultural policies (Gibson and Klocker, 2005; Porter, 1996), cultural and creative industry (Cunningham, 2002; Currid & Williams, 2010; Flew, 2010; Pratt, 2008; Rogerson, 2006; van Heur, 2010; Vorley et al, 2016), creative industry clusters (O’Connor and Gu, 2014), cultural production (Mayes, 2010), creative class (Florida, 2014; Pratt, 2008), and the impact of creativity on economic development (Markusen & Schrock, 2006). Human geographers and urban scholars have focused on the interplay between people and their environment (Amundsen, 2012; Ball, 1986; ClementsCroome, 2015; Crouch, 2010; Rapoport, 1976; Törnqvist, 2011) and delved into how society constructs the built environment (Knox, 1987) and how in turn that built environment impacts people’s lives and activities (Clements-Croome, 2015; Ewing et al, 2015; Soares et al, 2021; Wu et al, 2021). A built environment with a collaborative and interdisciplinary nature (McClure & Bartuska, 2007) could conceivably provide the urban infrastructure for creative industries and tourism and a creative environment for artists, workers, residents, and tourists. A number of cities have embraced urban branding that aimed to transform intocreative cities (Ponzini & Rossi, 2010), or even just creative-friendly communities (Granpayehvaghei & Bonakdar, 2021). Contributions of artists and the creative class have been examined (Boschma & Fritsch, 2009; Markusen, 2006) in relation to creative place-making. To determine whether creative place-making was successful (O’Connor & Gu, 2014) and met the policy goals of creative place-making (Gilmore, 2013), assessments were conducted to ascertain if creativity improved urban competitiveness (Hansen et al, 2010). Creativity has come to be regarded as essential to attracting the creative class, improving the quality of life (Rantisi & Leslie, 2010), adding imaginative practice ­(Scoffham, 2013), and providing proper environments to develop creativity (Törnqvist, 2004). This is evidenced by more recent studies’ focus on the spatiality of creativity (He, 2019), creative industry in the inner city (Hutton, 2016), public space (Onesti, 2017), high-tech start-ups concentrated in leading cities (Adler et al., 2019), and the precarity of the creative economy (Comunian & England, 2020). A strategic approach to developing a spatiality of creativity including high culture such as art, architecture, music (Gibson, 2005; Watson et al, 2009), and literature, as well as science and technology and has long been considered desirable. There has been a critical approach. Hall (2004) has criticised this instrumental approach that gives a city a face-lift from an undesirable image to a creative one as superficial plastic surgery. Issues of culture, power, and politics were explored in studies of landscape art and architecture (Johnson, 2009; Marston & De Leeuw, 2013) and competing interests (Chapman, 2005). In addition, case studies concentrated on the northern hemisphere (Gibson, 2010). Asian cities swept up in rapid economic and political transformations (Chang, 2005) had little time to process their history, memory, colonialism (Yeoh, 2003), and oppressive environment (Laws, 1994). This research suggests the addition of memory to the cycle where creativity and the built environment concatenate and build on each other. When certain agents seek to supplant memory with nonspecific creativity (Chang & Huang, 2005; Shin, 2016) and a mainstream approach

Circuit of memory, creativity, and built environment  171 toward creative cities and communities, conflict can arise with agents for memory-focused creativity. Though memory is about the past, memorialisation reflects the present actor’s intention for the future (Muzaini & Yeoh, 2005; Rose-Redwood, 2008). To understand place-making in regards to exploring, creating, and renovating relevant built environments, it is necessary to consider the key actors who are involved. In the Korean context, the circuit of memory, creativity, and the built environment is especially important in those cities adversely affected by the military state dictatorship such as Gwangju. Research design This study employs qualitative data collection including in-depth interviews, participant observations, and document analyses of newspapers, public reports, and organisations’ records to document the changes in Gwangju from 1997 to 2021. Interviewees included key actors who worked in the city government, semi-governmental organisations, civic organisations, May 18 organisations and artists and academics. The interviews were conducted in Korean and were audio-­recorded or transcribed with the interview subjects’ permission, with discourse later translated into English if quoted. Participant observations were compiled from the Gwangju Biennale exhibitions, public events, symposiums, and media art performances. The analysis method was interpretative and focused on discovering the dynamics and the evolving nature of creativity, the built environment, and memory. Gwangju, the focal point of this study, has not been selected for its significance as the sixth largest South Korean metropolitan city with approximately 1.5 million inhabitants but for its history. On May 18, 1980, university students staged a peaceful anti-dictatorship protest in Gwangju, and in response, the national government sent in troops that brutally beat protestors, some to death. Citizens joined the students, organising their own army and fighting off national forces. The citizen army held the city for six days. However, on May 27 heavily armed troops attacked the city, and a few hours later, the last protesters took a final stand and died in South Jeolla Provincial Hall. The families and friends of the victims were forced to transport the bodies to Mangwol-dong Cemetery where they had to dig the graves and bury their loved ones. Chun Doo Hwan banned Korean media, eventually releasing a version of events that distorted the truth. Since succeeding military regimes continued the coverup, a survey revealed outsiders still identified Gwangju as ‘the City of Blood’ even after the first non-military president elected in 1993 revealed the truth. Gwangju’s elites considered what cultural and creative city strategies with the national government’s institutional and financial support might convince outsiders that Gwangju was indeed ‘the city of democratisation’ and ‘the city of art’. Creativity and built environment in Gwangju From the Gwangju Biennale to MACC, creativity, and the built environment have been pursued not only as traditional high-art creativity in conventional urban spaces but also as alternative creativity in unconventional spaces associated with the May 18 memory. Alternative creativity on May 18---related places, such as the Mangwol-dong cemetery that formerly were only secretly honoured now openly play an important role in the city’s creative strategies. The success of alternative creativity in one unconventional space in Gwangju would support the development of the next stage of the city’s creative strategy. Each stage, however, encountered conflict surrounding the nature of creativity, the selection of the key built environment, and governance, but through concessions and renegotiation, these projects developed.

172  H. Shin Emerging built environment for different creativity and conflicts – Anti-Biennale and May 18 places

The first stage in the city’s creative strategy was the Gwangju Biennale that at least initially intended to diminish the memory of May 18 and replace it with reminders of a contemporary art festival. The newly and quickly constructed the Gwangju Biennale Hall was the built environment that housed the official exhibition. The generic venue itself might have caused issues if local community groups and popular artists had not been preoccupied with the aggressive top-down decision-making for the exhibition that dismissed their history and identity. When these groups’ concerns went unheeded, they organised an alternative exhibition, ‘the Anti-Biennale’.1 The main exhibition site of the Anti-Biennale for memory-related creativity was the built environment of Mangwol-dong cemetery. The resting place of 137 protesters transported in handcarts and garbage trucks and buried by friends and family in 1980 had become akin to a place of pilgrimage for political activists. Along the 4-km road leading to this cemetery, the Anti-Biennale’s open-air exhibition displayed 1,200 artworks on cloth (3.5 m by 0.5 m) that were critical of dictatorship and demanded social justice and Korean reunification. The exhibition ushering visitors along the road to the cemetery (Hankyoreh 14 October 1995) combined memory with art. One organiser said, Exhibiting art works here [Mangwol-dong cemetery] is more like us [Gwangju people] than the official Gwangju Biennale. Mangwol-dong symbolises our history, and we have expressed this spirit in art. (An interviewee, 2 October 1997) This interviewee felt that Gwangju’s spirit was better represented by the Mangwol-dong exhibition than the official Biennale. The Anti-Biennale attracted more than 200,000 visitors (Dong-A, 11 October 1995), proving that the city’s history could be an asset to creativity as dark tourism. By the time of the second Gwangju Biennale, the Anti-Biennale, and the official Biennale were integrated as the Unification Art Exhibition. While the first encounter between opposing creativities caused conflict and resistance, the artworks, literature, and exhibition locations dedicated to the memory of the May 18 have over time become a greater part of Gwangju Biennale. Built environments were also expanded to include May 18---specific locations. For example, in the fourth Biennale, the May 18 Liberty Park, the May 18 Memorial Park, former South Gwangju station, and the Mangwol-dong cemetery were developed as exhibition places (Figure 14.1). While many people in Gwangju could remember the events of 1980 by including memorial sites in the Gwangju Biennale, this creative interpretation gave them an added dimension as the combination of art and memory. The creative differences that arise from so many different actors were challenging for the formation of a cohesive creative governance. During the first Gwangju Biennale, organisers include bureaucrats from Seoul and the art directors either from other countries or Seoul. Following the integration of the biennales; however, the staff was divided: half national governmental actors and the other half local actors and artists. Local actors such as artists, community members, and academics were unused to governmental administration, and bureaucrats were not accustomed to local actors’ more relaxed approach to work. This often caused complaints about each other’s work styles, but over time, they developed an acceptance of each other so they could collaborate, enabling the next stage.

Circuit of memory, creativity, and built environment  173

Figure 14.1  May 18 specific locations developed as exhibition places in the fourth Gwangju Biennale. A conflict in a building renovation. Alternative built environments encompassing the history

The second stage of urban branding involved the national government’s designation of Gwangju as the Asian Culture Hub (ACH). The key built environment for this project was the former South Jeolla Provincial Hall that would be renovated to become the Asia Culture Centre (ACC) (Figure 14.2). The lot is 128,621 m2 in size, with a total floor space of 178,199 m2, and the cost

Figure 14.2 Asia culture centre, which was renovated of the former South Jeolla Provincial Hall. A part of the Byeolgwan behind ‘ACC’ was preserved as a result of renegotiations. Source: Photo taken by the author.

174  H. Shin of the renovations was a projected $680 million.2 As part of the city’s urban regeneration, the ACC was to be a hub for history, literature, archives, performances, and exhibitions. The hall, however, was where troops killed the last protesters that ended the uprising, and conflict around the building’s redesign arose between two creativities: locals’ creative vision and the ACH group supported by the national government’s final choice. Locals including many business people, politicians, and the city’s citizens expected a building that would be an instantly recognisable landmark, a monument to May 18, and a tourist attraction to stimulate the economy. The winning redesign put most of the building underground so that Moodeung Mountain, the genuine landmark according to the architect, would be the focal point. Despite protests, the ACH group and the national government supported the design. Further conflict arose with the intended demolition of the Byeolgwan (an annexe in Korean), the precise location where the last protesters died. Even though the civil society committee had examined the design and approved the apparent destruction of the Byeolgwan, they had not fully understood the implications. The building had been inaccessible for some time, and many people were unaware of the exact nature or even location of the Byeolgwan in the hall. After the ground-breaking ceremony in 2008 with the president in attendance, it became widely known the Byeolgwan would be destroyed. Protesters wrapped the annexe with black fabric that read, ‘This is our sons’ graves. They say that this part is going to be removed’. The demonstrations protesting the demolition attracted media attention, forcing several renegotiations until a compromise was reached for the partial conservation of the Byeolgwan. Later, the national government announced the hall would be restored to its original specifications. That this attempt to dismiss the tragic memory provoked another conflict is noteworthy for the fact that it ensured that the May 18 memory would be incorporated into the city’s creativity and the key built environment. The addition of memory to the nexus between creativity and the built environment changed the dynamics in regards to governance. Previously, the process of conflicts and renegotiation around the demolition of Byeolgwan involved Seoul actors who worked in the ACH office and local civil society members, academics, bureaucrats, artists, and May 18 organisations. Now May 18, survivors and families emerged as actors in the city’s creativity and built environment. Comprehensive place-making for media art

The third stage involves the city’s creativity strategies and built environment in relation to an application for UNESCO’s Media Art Creative City (MACC) designation. Once the national government decided that Gwangju would apply, a media art festival was planned and urban spaces were prepared. The culture-led urban regeneration of built environment that started in the second stage has continued through the Media Art Creative City master plan (2015), with an emphasis on the integrative use of space. For example, the city government proposed converting a vacant warehouse that once stored medicine into a mixed-use building housing a media art studio, coffee shop, and exhibition places. Through the application process and even after being awarded the designation as a media art city, as a requirement of retaining the title, several built environments were either constructed or restyled as creative belts. The key built environment includes the creation of Six Belts over four years from 2019 to 2023. The plan is to invest 13 million USD to construct creative belts in five neighbourhoods in the city. These belts are based on one of two themes, ‘Gwangju spirit’, or ‘Gwangju healing’. Belts dedicated to ‘Gwangju spirit’ include the Media Art Hall, with installation of media art in May 18 Democracy Square and the former South Jeolla Provincial Hall.

Circuit of memory, creativity, and built environment  175

Figure 14.3  Four creative belts with media art works. Source: Gwangju City Government Homepage (1–4), News 1 (5th,6th and 23rd February 2021).

The fountains, where so many Gwangju citizens gathered to demonstrate and where later people congregated worried about their family and friends trapped in the provincial hall, became a ‘Fountain of Light’ for the spirit of Gwangju. Belts that focus on ‘Gwangju healing’, include the Media Art Gallery in Geumnam-ro, where the May 18 demonstration started (see Figure 14.3). Since its designation in 2014, Gwangju began creating LED industry cluster. The city’s light industry and the experiences of contemporary art played a role identifying the city with media art. This encounter between art and technology and the integration of democracy, art, and urban development required a necessary collaboration between artists, light businesses, and bureaucrats. To bring industry to Gwangju, the national government and the city government3 supported the creation of a technopark with districts for R&D, high-tech hotspot for science technology research, photonics technology industry, media-content industry, and LED industry and design industry. However, collaboration with artists is not a priority for many science-based businesses so mediators are required to connect artists to the lighting manufacturers. While the COVID-19 pandemic negatively impacted cultural events and artists’ strategies in Gwangju, media art based on technology and cyberculture helped local actors continue to exhibit art and exhibitions through restrictions. For example, the 2020 Gwangju Biennale was postponed to 2021 saw a reduced number of only 85,000 visitors to its offline exhibition, but the online exhibition posted on the Biennale homepage and YouTube received 165,000 visitors.

176  H. Shin A special exhibition called ‘May Today’ that was a cornerstone of the 13th biennale, exhibiting artworks on May 18 and the Gwangju spirit, reached a wider audience through this technology. The light festivals commemorating the May 18 spirit provided much-needed urban spaces for creativity that was especially suited to media art. Local artists played a central role in introducing media arts to significant places of memory for the Gwangju Biennale. Conclusion and implications This chapter illustrated how the memory of the May 18 Democratic Uprising challenged generic creativity and suggested an alternative creativity that incorporated the city’s history. The case of Gwangju demonstrates that especially in the context where tragic memories were part of the urban identity, extricating memory from creativity and the built environment can lead to conflict. This study focused on how different actors could influence and rearrange creativity and the built environment to include memory. Especially in the first two stages, the initiatives launched by the national government stripped memory from the creativity and built environment until Gwangju’s citizens fought to have it back. By the time the MACC designation was in place, some lessons had been learned and the inclusion of May 18 history as important content for creativity was readily accomplished. This demonstrates that conflicts and resistance that can redirect the cultural governance of the city can also transform a city’s particular history into important content for creativity. The practical lessons from this case study are as follows. First, a city’s unique history and places of memory, even unpleasant ones, can be developed as important resources because there is value in stories. Second, in examining the reciprocal relations between creativity and the built environment, the flexible use of urban spaces sets an example for adaptable urban spaces in the future. Third, open communications among various actors and inclusive cultural governances are essential for sustainable circuits among memory, creativity, and the built environment. For example, successful creative city strategies require the collaboration of government, business, and the community in a balanced approach to governance to maximise the external opportunities and transition external resources to internal assets. Notes 1 https://www.mediatoday.co.kr/news/articleView.html?idxno=9248 2 http://www.cct.go.kr/english/complex/outline.jsp 3 Song, S. B., J. S. Seo., and T. J. Kim (2011). The development strategy of the Gwangju light industry responding new environment [saeroun hwangyeongbyeonhwae daeeunghan gwangju gwangsaneop baljeonbangan]

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15

Artists, arts and culture-based city revitalization, and the built environment Meghan Ashlin Rich

Introduction: Artists, city revitalization, and the built environment There is a large body of work seeking to understand the relationship between individuals engaged in creative work (including visual artists, writers, designers, actors, performance artists, and musicians) and the spaces that they inhabit and engage with, such as neighborhoods, studios, galleries, museums, and housing (Cameron and Coaffee, 2005; Currid, 2007, 2009; Ley, 1996, 2003; Rich, 2019; Rich and Tsitsos, 2016, 2018; Smith, 1979; Smith, 1996; Zukin, 1982). The interest in artists from the perspective of urban sociology stems from an investigation of market forces, human migration, and neighborhood change—specifically, the gentrification effects that artist settlement patterns may produce in neighborhoods. While so-called creatives can complete work anywhere, artists tend to cluster in particular locales where social networks within art scenes are strong and amenities exist, such as affordable studio spaces (Markusen, 2006; Ryberg, Salling, and Soltis, 2013; Stern and Seifert, 2010; Teresa and Zitcer, 2020). The built environment transforms as artists put “sweat-equity” into previously abandoned industrial buildings and patronize galleries, bars, cafes, and other artist-friendly businesses. The clustering of artists lend a habitus of creativity and hipness to previously undesirable and undervalued neighborhoods, leading to middle-class residential and real estate development interest and investment (Ley, 1996; Lloyd, 2006). An upscaling of businesses and housing occurs, with previously industrial spaces transforming from grungy artists’ live/work studios to luxury condominiums (Mele, 2000; Smith, 1996; Zukin, 1982). With increased development and housing costs in artist-heavy neighborhoods, artists themselves are eventually priced out. This is a classic arts-gentrification process as examined by Sharon Zukin in Loft Living (1982) and Neil Smith in The New Urban Frontier (1996), both set in former artist/bohemian settlements in Manhattan (New York City). While artists are often blamed for gentrification, both Zukin and Smith make clear that the true gentrifier is capital, not people. Smith’s theory of gentrification explains how the ebbs and flows of capital accumulation devalorizes then revalorizes urban space to maximize land profitability. Part of revalorizing space is “taming the frontier” by controlling residents’ unseemly behavior and removing homeless and other people considered undesirable by the middle class (Smith, 1996). Artists and the arts scene bridge the gap between the visiting middle class and an edgy neighborhood that still has undesirable elements, such as crime, public drug use, and signs of physical decay. Artists generally lack capital to avoid being displaced when the built environment is reinvested in (Markusen, 2006). They are often at the mercy of the real estate market and city policies that prioritize development interests over lower-income residents. Space is finite—and a particularly rare commodity in New York, which has been visibly, radically transformed in the past few decades by skyscraper construction and redevelopment of older buildings (Hackworth DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-17

City revitalization and the built environment  181 and Smith, 2001; Halasz, 2018; Mele, 2000). Much of the research on gentrification has centered on this global city, which has been extraordinarily important as an epicenter of arts and cultural production and art markets in the United States. Only a handful of cities throughout the world are considered global cities, such as London, Tokyo, and Paris, which serve as circulatory centers of international finance capital, creative industries, and immigration gateways (Sassen, 1991). Arts and culture also affects the built environment in peripheral, smaller cities, of which there are many more of than global cities, much in need of economic revitalization and population regrowth (Cameron and Coaffee, 2005; Rich, 2013). This essay considers the impact of the creative city thesis on small and large cities, the role of arts-themed development and branding in city revitalization plans, and important areas of research regarding artists’ relationship to city revitalization and the built environment. The creative city thesis and revitalization With the immense influence of Richard Florida’s creative city thesis (Florida, 2002), shrinking cities have seized on the arts as a way to attract “creatives”—including artists. Florida argues that the most economically thriving cities are those with amenities, population diversity, and an openness to innovation, such as Austin, Texas. Austin has had an explosion of population and development in the past 20 years, which can be traced back to its cultural offerings and highly educated residential base, including a world-renown music scene (Grodach, 2013; McCann, 2007). Cities that lack Austin’s cultural amenities continue to depopulate and economically decline, many of which are in the “Rustbelt” of the global north, such as Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. “Losing” cities tend to have legacy economies based in manufacturing or older fossil fuel extraction, such as coal mining, sectors that have been declining since the 1960s. According to the “creative class” thesis, such cities generally don’t appeal to a young, educated workforce because they lack the cultural vibrancy of more open, tolerant, and diverse cities (Florida, 2002). When cities lose population, the built environment is transformed. Without government and residential financial resources, housing and other buildings decay without upkeep or use and infrastructure is not repaired or improved (Logan and Molotch, 1987). In some extreme cases, whole blocks are razed because of abandonment, leaving large sections of cities seemingly uninhabited. Vacancy of land and buildings isn’t just a symptom of urban decline but expands it, creating geographical constraints on basic services, community networks, institutional supports, and opportunities for residents (Accordino and Johnson, 2000). Interestingly, some of the most distressed post-industrial cities, such as Detroit, Baltimore, and New Orleans, have some of the most vibrant grassroots arts scenes, attracting artists who are priced out of the so-called “superstar cities.” How and why would depopulating cities attract the core of the creative class—the creative producers? This trend points to at least two conceptual problems with the “creative class” thesis: First, Florida’s occupational groupings of “creative” and “uncreative” seem arbitrary and overly broad in practice. Finance workers would be considered creatives, while tailors would not (Markusen, 2006). What about the core of the artistic class: artists, writers, musicians, and performers? Are they also attracted to the same cities as high tech workers or engineers, of whom often have much higher salaries and settle in dispersed suburbs? Waitt and Gibson (2009) have found evidence in their case study of Wollongong, New South Wales, that creativity can thrive in smaller, less dazzling cities, where creatives may choose to live and work because of affordability, strong social networks, and civic support. Another common criticism of the creative class theory is that social justice and redistribution efforts of many regions are ignored. In practice, this has ushered in a new era of neoliberal urban policies, new commercial and housing developments aimed at the affluent,

182  M. A. Rich and a lack of attention to attracting a diversity of residents through strategies such as affordable housing and strong public schools (Scott, 2006). Furthermore, as Florida himself has pointed out, creative city-influenced planning encourages city competition, exacerbating inequality between and within cities as housing becomes prohibitively expensive for artists, service workers, and others without upper-tier incomes (Peck, 2005). Numerous urban studies scholars have debated and rejected many of Florida’s assertions, yet his work has had an undeniable influence on urban regeneration policies throughout the world, from small cities to global centers (Glaeser, 2005; Grodach, 2013; Markusen, 2006; ­McCann, 2007; Peck, 2005; Rich, 2013; Scott, 2006). Since the 2000s, politicians have included arts and culture in government revitalization strategies as to encourage international, national, and regional tourism, adding to local economies (Evans, 2003; Markusen and Gadwa, 2010). This phenomenon comprises city promotion of the arts and arts-based developments, including large projects like museums, opera houses, symphony halls, and theaters (Miles, 2005; Miles and Paddison, 2005; Strom, 2002, 2003). Moreover, there has been a proliferation of statesanctioned arts and cultural districts in cities, branding an existing neighborhoods as hubs for arts-based amenities and often offering tax-incentives for artists and arts businesses within their boundaries (Rich and Tsitsos, 2016; Stern and Seifert, 2010). The proliferation and promotion of public art—including sculptures and murals created by local communities or internationally known artists—is another strategy used by cities to attract interest in particular neighborhoods (Miles, 1997). The rather “fuzzy concept” of creative placemaking has been embraced by many policymakers, encouraging “arts-centered initiatives with place-based physical, economic, and/ or social outcomes” in distressed neighborhoods (Nicodemus, 2013, p. 213). Beyond its relatively loose conceptualization and array of real-world implementations, creative placemaking has been criticized as not truly participatory and overly focused on neighborhood economic revalorization, rather than racial justice or economic redistribution (Bedoya, 2013). As we will review in this case study, creative-based revitalization efforts can only serve community needs when plans are designed and implemented in a cooperative process with neighborhood stakeholders. Researching arts and culture-based revitalization and the built environment Leaving behind the debates regarding the creative class thesis, we will consider how urban scholars conceptualize and research the relationship between artists, arts and culture-based revitalization strategies, and the built environment. As reviewed above, artists and arts communities have always had an effect on the built environment, choosing to live in close proximity to other artists within a bohemian milieu of cafes, bars, grassroots arts spaces, and studios (Lloyd, 2006). These settlement patterns may have unintended gentrification effects. Because of this implied causal connection between artists, neighborhood gentrification, and the overall turn toward creative city-informed government policies, policymakers and developers have refocused their revitalization efforts around the arts and artists themselves. As Currid has pointed out, “Artists have historically sought out less expensive neighborhoods with ample space such that they can afford to pay the rent along with having enough space to do their work. The active cultivation of art as a part of the development process is, however, something new” (2009, p. 368). There are many ways urban scholars have connected the arts and development, including viewing the arts as a regional growth machine (Strom, 2010); as an “artistic dividend” adding to a city’s economic development (Markusen and Schrock, 2006); as a city branding strategy to encourage visitors to consume art and cultural experiences (Evans, 2003); and as a way to maintain artist communities and artist-run spaces (Grodach, 2011; Markusen, 2006).

City revitalization and the built environment  183 Researchers have had some trouble in assessing the impact of artists and arts-based developments on cities and neighborhoods and developments’ impact on artists themselves. The economic impacts of large arts developments on regions can be measured through data on ticket sales and tourist spending. The impact of arts industries on local economies can also be assessed by the number of jobs, firms, and revenue generated per industry. Yet it is very difficult to empirically link a region’s economic viability to the presence of artists, arts districts, or art-based developments, which is an area Markusen and Gadwa (2010) have called for methodological improvement by researchers. They state: “Failure to specify goals, reliance on fuzzy theories, underdeveloped public participation, and unwillingness to require and evaluate performance outcomes make it difficult for decision makers to proceed with confidence. Without access to studies that clarify the impacts, risks, and opportunity costs of various strategies, investments, and revenue and expenditure patterns, communities and governments are in danger of squandering opportunities to guide cultural development.” (Markusen and Gadwa, 2010, p. 379) Much of the work done in this area relies on qualitative interviews with key informants, surveys of city policymakers and planning documents, descriptive statistics, and/or asset mapping rather than multivariate statistical analysis, making causal relationships difficult to discern. However, many cultural economy scholars have pointed out that even though there is little proof that the concentrated presence of artists or large arts developments lead to revitalized urban economies, policymakers continue to make that connection in their community plans, often without actual support systems for artists or artistic production (Grodach, 2013; Markusen, 2006; Strom, 2010). Scholars have also sought to understand the effects of super-gentrification on artists, lower income residents, and “early pioneers” of gentrifying neighborhoods. Hackworth and Smith’s (2001) theory of “third wave” gentrification updates previous gentrification theories to consider the contemporary effects of hyper-development on neighborhoods, where artists, other lower and middle-income residents, and small businesses are displaced by capital investments in large-scale developments and corporate real estate ownership. Because of these trends—most markedly in “superstar” cities like San Francisco, Los Angeles, and London—artists are considered a vulnerable population. Within the study of arts and culture-based revitalization development, there had been a lack of artist-centered research, providing the artists’ perspective and experiences of the impact of development on them as actors within communities. Sociological research based in Baltimore and Philadelphia refocuses the perspective of creativity and space through the lens of artists themselves, many of whom live precariously due to the rising costs of housing and studio space, even within relatively “affordable” cities (Rich, 2019; Teresa and Zitcer, 2020). Artists are well-aware that their presence may spur gentrification but also that artists are used by elites to brand neighborhoods and cities, encouraging redevelopment and capital investment. Some artists are quite successful financially, but most live on meager incomes, making affordable housing a key concern (Strom, 2010; Teresa and Zitcer, 2020) Moreover, artists need physical spaces to create and collaborate—large structures and/or locales that do not have noise restrictions. Subsidies and other affordable housing programs that can accommodate the unique needs of artists are becoming more typical in city development plans. Even small Rustbelt cities, such as Scranton, Pennsylvania (with a population of approximately 76,000), have sought to develop artist housing to attract new residents and revitalize their cities (Rich, 2013; Strom, 2010). These artist-dedicated developments are often built through public-private partnerships and a mixture of city, state, and Federal tax subsidies, such

184  M. A. Rich as the City Arts I and II buildings in Baltimore, which offer 60 units of live/work apartments at below-market rents for people involved in creative production who are income qualified. However, artists who live in artist-dedicated housing may find the apartments not functional for their living arrangements, family form, or accommodating of their creative projects, requiring extra studio space or a move out of the development (Rich, 2019). Beyond housing and studio spaces for artists, robust art scenes also rely on a constellation of arts spaces for artists to convene, network, collaborate, and show their work. Grodach defines art spaces as “[spaces] that focus on the presentation and support of regional art work, are publicly accessible, do not contain a permanent collection or resident company, and do not consider art sales their primary function” (2011, p. 77). His analysis of 12 arts spaces in the Dallas-Fort Worth, Texas, region points to the importance of these spaces to the revitalization of derelict buildings, tourism, and local community engagement. Arts spaces are multifunctional building spaces, serving as places for performances, rehearsals, exhibits, meetings, offices for non-arts related tenants, cafes, and other community uses. Many art spaces are also arts incubators, serving artists through professional development programs, workshops, and providing spaces to create, show work, and network with other artists. Markusen and Johnson’s (2006) research on arts centers in Minneapolis-St. Paul, Minnesota, demonstrates the importance of dedicated arts spaces for community development and artists’ career trajectories. Funding is imperative for arts centers—they thrive in places that have dedicated funding for cultural programs and centers from government, private foundations, and nonprofit organizations. Because arts centers serve multiple functions for artists and the public, including education, employment, mentoring, and other community engagements, there is public interest in supporting their growth and stability (Markusen and Johnson, 2006). When neighborhoods have a clustering of artists, artists’ studios, arts centers, and other cultural amenities, the neighborhoods may be perceived as an arts and cultural district by stakeholders, city leaders, and visitors (Stern and Seifert, 2010). This branding of neighborhoods as cultural districts can be formalized through state-sanctioned programs that seek to revitalize, promote, or maintain an area of the city. Cultural districts often offer benefits for individual artists and cultural centers, such as tax subsidies for creative products and ticket sales. Stern and Seifert (2010) warn that cultural districts should not be planned top--down by policymakers and developers, such as the case of many flagship museum projects in cities’ downtowns (Strom, 2002). Rather, dedicated arts districts should be where there are preexisting cultural amenities and arts-based organizations. Stern and Seifert (2005, 2010) also caution against over-planning such districts since the most successful cultural districts are “natural,” meaning that neighborhood’s cultural clustering was the result of neighborhood stakeholder interest, existing arts and culture entities, and organization at the grassroots level. There is some concern that arts and cultural district programs have a negative effect on a neighborhood’s race and class diversity, spurring the displacement of longtime residents and businesses. The research on this has been spotty, given the difficulty in determining if neighborhoods gentrify because of their status as arts and cultural districts, or because of larger market forces at work previous to the designations. In the following section, we will consider a case study of an arts and cultural district in Baltimore, Maryland, to understand how redevelopment affects the built environment and communities in arts-themed neighborhoods. Case study: Station North Station North is the first state-designated Arts and Entertainment (A&E) District in Baltimore, located in the geographic center of the city. Baltimore is a shrinking post-industrial port city

City revitalization and the built environment  185 within the Mid-Atlantic metropolitan corridor of the United States (population of 585,708 in 2020). Station North encompasses the main national and regional rail service station, Penn ­Station, and three historic neighborhoods—Penn North, Greenmount West, and a small portion of the mostly residential Barclay. The A&E District designation was granted in 2002 through an inter-neighborhood stakeholder collaboration to combine multiple neighborhoods within the arts district’s boundaries. The two main neighborhoods in Station North are quite distinct. Penn North is immediately north of Penn Station and contains commercial businesses, theaters, and performance venues on its major thoroughfares. Greenmount West is more residential, mixing row house blocks and massive 19th-century post-industrial buildings, most having been converted to other uses, such as artists’ live/work lofts. Since the 1960s, both neighborhoods have declined in population and were subject to white flight and job loss through deindustrialization. Many buildings were decayed and abandoned, including former factories, schools, warehouses, theaters, and an indoor market that spans a whole city block on North Avenue. Because of ­Station North’s geographic locale as the literal center and crossroads between the city’s north, east, south, and west streets and the existing buildings that allowed for commercial use conversion, the area had served for decades as important locales for artist spaces and bohemian culture in the city. Due to the commercial strength of Charles North, with its many bars, restaurants, theaters, and other places to socialize, and the DIY sweat equity put into various residential spaces in Greenmount West, the area was a “natural” fit for the A&E District designation. The A&E District designation application was a cooperative process involving multiple interests. There were a significant number of artists that owned their own spaces in two artists’ cooperative buildings, the Cork Factory and Area 405, who were very influential in the state application process. In addition, many of the prominent community development organizations and anchor institutions, such as Central Baltimore Partnership, a nonprofit community development organization, and Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA), a private arts and design college, had long been interested in working with stakeholders—artists and non-artist—and financial partners to revitalize the neighborhood. It was obvious to many city leaders and the Penn North and Greenmount West neighborhood associations that the neighborhoods needed intervention to revitalize; it was not clear at all what effect the A&E District designation would have. There were fears that the very people who give the neighborhood its flavor could be displaced because of gentrification, making Station North an “arts district without artists” (Rich, 2015). One of the major effects of the A&E District designation was the creation of the Station North Arts & Entertainment District (SNAED), a nonprofit that maintains a small staff to run programs in the district, such as art walks, outdoor events, artist networking and support, and public arts projects. Interviews with those involved in the creation of the A&E District have described that the main benefit of the state designation was branding and advertising the neighborhood, which had long enjoyed an “artsy” reputation without a well-known, marketable name before 2002. The Open Walls mural project assisted in the branding of Station North in 2012–2014, when murals were painted by internationally prominent artists on commercial and residential buildings all over the neighborhood. Some stakeholders derided the mural project as a “developer’s dream,” adding capital and tourist interest in an area that had long been abandoned by the middle class. Others complained that most of the artists and their murals’ subject matter are not local to the neighborhoods or Baltimore. In any case, the physical transformation of bright murals on buildings all throughout the area furthers arts neighborhood branding and encourages locals and visitors to walk throughout Station North on self-guided mural tours (from maps which SNAED provides) (Rich, 2019; Rich and Tsitsos, 2016, 2018). Since 2002, Penn North and Greenmount West have been visibly altered by major development projects. Many longstanding arts spaces have also closed. The loss of arts spaces, an

186  M. A. Rich influx of white residents with higher incomes replacing lower-income Black “legacy” and artist residents, and the rise in real estate values do provide some evidence of gentrification. However, many of the completed development projects are arts-themed and offer below-market rents to artists and other creative workers for work and/or living space. Through public-private partnerships, many new developments were completed in Penn North, including the rehabilitation of two historic theaters, a former London Fog coat factory turned graduate center building for MICA, and an early 20th-century automobile dealership turned nonprofit arts studio and performance space on North Avenue. In Greenmount West, a former factory was transformed into the first public design middle/high school in the city, whole blocks of housing were razed and rebuilt, and a former industrial building was turned into the largest nonprofit “maker space” in the city (Rich, 2019). What can we learn from the case of Station North (as it celebrates its 20th anniversary as an A&E District in 2022)? A major lesson is that it may be possible to “strike a balance” between revitalization and gentrification in arts districts when development occurs through careful consideration of various neighborhood stakeholders’ interests. Theming the neighborhood as an arts district through signature arts-related projects can be viewed cynically as a development scheme, with the goal of upscaling the neighborhood to bring in more affluent residents and visitors to the area (Ponzini and Rossi, 2010). However, more recent research on Station North shows that the major partners in this arts-related development were wide ranging and included philanthropic private foundations, universities, city and state government, arts promotion nonprofits, neighborhood associations, and community development organizations (Rich and ­Tsitsos, 2016, 2018). Having equal community representation and input in the development process is key. Both Penn North and Greenmount West have active community organizations that represent residential interests and have strong ties to government officials, such as their district representative in city council. Community development and financial partners have had to balance the needs of community members and their own interests in further theming the neighborhood through arts-based building development and public art. In comparison to most of the artist community, community associations and non-artist residents are often more “development friendly” and concerned about quality-of-life issues, such as crime, parks, and schools (although these two communities overlap—artists are also involved in community associations). Much of the development that has come to fruition since 2002 is designed to serve all of the community in some way, which is by design. These developments are either open to the public, such as a public school, a movie theater, or a building with street-level businesses, or subsidize artist and community use, such as below-market rents for housing, event spaces, and studios. For instance, anyone can take classes, rent a studio or equipment, or become a member at Open Works, a nonprofit “maker space” in Greenmount West that also offers classes and scholarships in fabrication of wood and metal, sewing, and other types of hands-on skills for the community. This development was the direct result of private foundations partnering with artists and community development nonprofits to rehabilitate an industrial warehouse designed to serve and employ the greater community. Yet even with all the careful planning to “avoid the SoHo effect” in ­Station North, referring to the same process of gentrification and artist displacement as in Zukin’s study (1982) in New York, artists may have little choice but to leave the neighborhood if they cannot find affordable housing, “grow out” of the warehouse loft lifestyle, or are pushed out by building code violation enforcement (Rich, 2019; Rich and Tsitsos, 2016). The CopyCat Building in Greenmount West, the last of the huge rental “artist warehouses” in Baltimore, is emptying of artist residents as the owner works to bring the building up-to-code. Its future as a home for artists and performance spaces is unlikely, given the current real estate market. This

City revitalization and the built environment 187 displacement of artists and artistic production should be of concern to political leadership, who should maintain an arts-space city taskforce informed by partnerships between artists, community developers, and city housing officials (Rich, 2019). Future directions for studying arts-themed revitalization City leaders are very likely to include the arts and arts-based developments in their future revitalization plans, even with emerging changes to urban life and economies due to the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic. Research is sorely needed on how the pandemic and other recent social changes, such as the sweeping effects the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement, have on the urban environment. Many cities that are tourist and consumer centers experienced acute financial vulnerability due to pandemic closures of businesses, entertainment venues, and major arts institutions. Artists, who are already economically vulnerable, may have found themselves unable to pivot completely to online work and sales given the importance of shared arts spaces to creative production. During the pandemic, BLM spurred mass protests in the streets, calls for racial justice and equity within the arts community, and the creation of BLM-related public art. The movement also ignited a feeling of urgency regarding inclusivity and transparency in urban development planning and equal access to and representation within arts-related institutions for BIPOC1 communities, artists, staff members, and visitors. We should also investigate how arts districts and neighborhood gentrification trends have been impacted by the pandemic and demographic change in cities. It is hoped that city planning will not go back to the status quo given the major economic, social, and cultural upheaval of the past few years. Note 1 BIPOC refers to Black, Indigenous, and people of color.

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City revitalization and the built environment  189 Sassen, S. (1991) The global city: New York, London, Tokyo. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Scott, A.J. (2006) ‘Creative cities: Conceptual issues and policy questions’, Journal of Urban Affairs, 28, pp. 1–17. doi: 10.1111/j.0735-2166.2006.00256.x Smith, N. (1979) ‘Toward a theory of gentrification a back to the city movement by capital, not people’, Journal of the American Planning Association, 45 (4), pp. 538–548. doi: 10.1080/01944367908977002 Smith, N. (1996) The new urban frontier: Gentrification and the revanchist city. New. York: Routledge. Stern, M. and Seifert, S. (2010) ‘Cultural clusters: The implications of cultural assets agglomeration for neighborhood revitalization’, Journal of Planning Education and Research, 29 (3), pp. 262–279. Stern, M.J. and Seifert, S.C. (2005) Natural cultural districts: Arts agglomerations in metropolitan Philadelphia and implications for cultural district planning. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania, Social Impact of the Arts Project. Strom, E. (2002) ‘Converting pork into porcelain: Cultural institutions and downtown development’, ­Urban Affairs Review, 38 (3), pp. 3–21. doi: 10.1177/107808702401097763 Strom, E. (2003) ‘Cultural policy as development policy: Evidence from the United States’, International Journal of Cultural Policy, 9 (3), pp. 247–263. doi: 10.1080/1028663032000161687 Strom, E. (2010) ‘Artist garret as growth machine? Local policy and artist housing in U.S. Cities’, Journal of Planning Education and Research, 29 (3), pp. 367–378. doi: 10.1177/0739456X09358560 Teresa, B.F. and Zitcer, A. (2020) ‘The specter of the “artless city”: Locating artists in Philadelphia’s creative economy’, Journal of Urban Affairs. doi: 10.1080/07352166.2020.1779008 Waitt, G. and Gibson, C. (2009). ‘Creative small cities: Rethinking the creative economy in place’, Urban Studies, 46, pp. 1223–1246. doi: 10.1177/0042098009103862 Zukin, S. (1982) Loft living. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press.

16

Culture-led regeneration and urban governance The case of South Rome Anna Laura Palazzo and Romina D’Ascanio*

In post-industrial societies, culture-led regeneration is underpinned by several theoretical assumptions focusing on the interplay among knowledge-based economies and creative industries well rooted in a proactive physical environment and a peculiar socio-institutional milieu (Glaeser et al. 1992; Amin & Thrift, 1994; Soja 2000; Hall, 2000; Florida, 2002; Miles & ­Paddison, 2005; Calafati, 2010). Altogether, these drivers shape the so-called ‘innovation ecosystems,’ regarded as evolving sets of actors, activities, artifacts, institutions and relationships allowing for innovation to occur (McCann & Ortega-Argilés, 2013; Foray, 2015). After discussing the emerging features in such ‘cultural turn’ grounded in economic geography and urban studies (A Paradigm shift – From the Factory City to the Knowledge City), this chapter aims at putting to trial the nexus between creativity and the built environment in the case of the south-western sector of Rome along the Tiber River, namely in its outpost just outside the city walls, the Ostiense district that hosted the early industrialization after the proclamation of Rome as Capital of the Kingdom of Italy in 1870 (The Ostiense District and its controversial Roadmap)1. Indeed, less affected by industrial decommissioning than its peers elsewhere, the city has been witnessing a sort of ‘unachieved modernity’: industrialization had only incepted in the second half of the XIX century – Rome by the Sea was then the slogan – and was short-lived (Avarello et al., 2004; Palazzo, 2019; Tocci, 2020)2. Ostiense developed according to the 1909 Master Plan of Rome profiting from major infrastructure, such as the railway station and the river port operating until the 1940s. After the Second World War, due to more suitable industrial locations elsewhere in the city, huge compounds of industrial archaeology lay neglected and the whole area was devoted to residential needs. In the early 1990s, it showed disaggregation and a lack of focal points. Ostiense is per se a relevant testing ground since it has been witnessing for three decades now intense transformation processes, partly spontaneous partly spurred by the Municipality. Under the flagship of the ‘Progetto urbano,’ a massive regeneration process affecting both sides of the Tiber River and their surrounding districts (Ostiense in the VIII Municipio and Marconi in the XI Municipio3) was then launched, focusing on two major drivers – culture and the environment – regarded as powerful tools to enhance social cohesion and collective identification, while providing impetus for economic growth and strategies for good governance (Figure 16.1). Authors’ elaboration Following a series of legislative measures allowing major public universities to downsize within more physiological thresholds and a special act dealing with the prerogatives of Rome as a Capital City (L. 15 dicembre 1990, n. 396. Interventi per Roma, capitale della Repubblica), the new-born Roma Tre University, in place in the area since 1992, was to participate as a main DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-18

Culture-led regeneration and urban governance  191

Figure 16.1  Territorial overview. Location of the Municipi involved in the ‘Progetto urbano.’

stakeholder in the whole process interspersing its facilities in the urban fabric according to a ‘University City’ model appealing to research, art, and culture (University-driven Regeneration?). Heavy infrastructure provided satisfactory accessibility to the area from the southwestern sector of the metropolitan city: the highway and the railway connecting to Fiumicino airport, on the right bank of the Tiber, the Via Ostiense flanked by the Via del Mare (1928), the RomaLido railway (1924), and the Metro B line (1955), on the left one. Following a well-established tradition all over Europe, the City Council incepted a regeneration path with the aim to mediate between continuity and innovation. The ‘Progetto urbano,’ inherent to the planning process yet more flexible than a land use plan, accounts for a strategic vision consistent with a comprehensive idea of sustainability and addressing physical transformation along with social and economic targets according to citizens’ needs and expectations (Ingallina, 2001; Hall, 2013). The Progetto urbano Ostiense-Marconi (PUOM) was intended to shape the built environment starting from the public realm, with a main focus on Roma Tre University development as a dynamic and efficient seat of learning. Its model – the City within the City – was expected to address an overall demand for cultural, sporting, and leisure facilities open to general public, and definitely forge a new identity for the whole district, home to about 62,000 people (Figure 16.2). Gradually, the Ostiense district has been attracting different ethnic groups, mainly from the Philippines, Bangladesh, Romania, Ukraine, China, and Peru, that account now for more than 10% of the population, raising even 20% in some areas (Lelo et al. 2021). In turn, a vibrant creative class has moved in, layering the urban palimpsest with street art, exhibitions, and pop-up events deserving general appreciation from scholars and the media in Italy and abroad. Conversely, the decision-making chain has lost momentum over time, focusing mainly on heavy construction works and totally overlooking urban design issues. The last sessions

192  A. L. Palazzo and R. D’Ascanio

Figure 16.2 Transformations foreseen by the Progetto urbano Ostiense-Marconi. Source: Municipality of Rome. Available online (accessed September 8th 2022) http://www.urbanistica.comune.roma. it/progetti-urbani/citta-storica-pu-ostiensemarconi.html.

(Discussion, and Conclusions) delve into the crucial topic of public space, at the core of PUOM’s assumptions yet unmet so far, trying to provide some ways forward for the urban agenda. A paradigm shift – from the factory city to the knowledge city In the early 1990s, culture-led regeneration entered the urban agenda of several European cities confronted with drastic economic changes affecting their traditional industrial base. Over time, mutually beneficial relationships between cities, culture(s), and creativity, notably creative industries, aroused a rich literature, especially deepening the socio-cultural foundations of such interplay and empirically assessing its success – or failure – at multiple spatial scales (James et al., 2006). Among others, NESTA report The geography of creativity frames creative firms as “those activities which have their origins in creativity and individual talent, and which have the potential to create work and wealth by generating and exploiting intellectual property” (De Propris et al. 2009)4. The alliance between post-industrial knowledge-based capital economy and the emerging creative sectors impacts on major dynamics in the built environment calling upon spatial planning and governance issues. As a matter of fact, metropolization processes lying upon dispersed production patterns due to globalization and information technologies co-exist with an increasing concentration of general headquarters in city core areas; on a higher level, few ‘global cities’ hold the levers of financial power all over the world (Sassen, 2001). In this frame, cultural and creative industries represent one of the most important growth and employment sectors in advanced post-industrial countries and play a major role in regenerating local economies (Scott, 2010; Lelo, 2019)5.

Culture-led regeneration and urban governance  193 As the creative class gained momentum worldwide, the paradigm of what would later be known as the ‘Creative City’ (Landry, 2000) was to challenge urban behaviors covering a broad spectrum of research, bringing together methods inherited from urban economics, economic geography, and endogenous growth theory (Ishida & Isbister, 2000). In turn, a longstanding thread of investigation from the field of business management focused on enterprise innovation, arguing that cognitive processes do not lie at the organizations’ core but at their edges, drawing upon tacit or implicit skills and knowledge rooted in the socio-cultural milieu and, as such, difficult to access. The so-called ‘open innovation’ encourages companies to use external knowledge rather than insourcing as a positive way to establish links with other firms, universities, tech centers, and other knowledge sources challenging intellectual property rights (Chesbrough, 2003). Of course, in questioning traditional organizations built around stable objectives, default processes, and governance systems aimed at managing minor variances, this approach requires a radical change in institutional settings and mindsets. When it comes to cities, open innovation affects decision-making, challenging the very nature of urban governance, its ability to mold itself while shaping behaviors and values of other stakeholders and community at large. The point is to sense collective intelligence, provide new spatial arenas to facilitate exchanges, and make timely decisions. Alongside, higher education institutions are put at the core of “[…] the development of regional competitiveness as a powerful policy discourse built on the co-evolution of academic literature and policy practice around a series of influential place-based concepts such as regional innovation systems and clusters” (Martin, Kitson & Tyler, 2006). The confluence of these threads within policy-focused debates on ‘regional innovation strategies for smart specialization’ (Foray & Goenega 2013; Valdaliso & Wilson, 2015) has marked the European programming period 2014–2020. This approach combines industrial, educational, and innovation policies “to suggest that countries or regions identify and select a limited number of priority areas for knowledge-based investments, focusing on their strengths and comparative advantages” (OECD, 2013). Accordingly, the ‘entrepreneurial discovery process’ is widely conceived as an inclusive, evidence-based process of stakeholder engagement that produces information about the potential for new activities, thus enabling effective targeting of research and innovation policy (Boschma & Klosterman 2005; McCann & Ortega-Argilés, 2015). Concurrently, culture and creativity as drivers unpredictably intertwined have been embedded in the concept of ‘regional innovation ecosystems’ (Boschma & Gianelle 2014) where a main role is played by ‘anchor institutions’ (public bodies, for profit and non-profit entities) committed to mediating among urban forms and emerging patterns of urbanity in order to provide mutual benefits: “The conceptual analysis identifies an unbalanced focus on complementarities, collaboration, and actors in received definitions, and among other things proposes the additional inclusion of competition, substitutes, and artifacts in conceptualizations of innovation ecosystems” (Granstrand & Holgersson, 2020). The extensive literature on urban transformation dynamics triggered by culture and creativity conveys an array of assumptions and rationales that need to be processed in real life on a case-by-case basis. The theoretical model inherent to the ‘cultural turn’ frames the creative class as inceptor and main catalyst in upgrading obsolete industrial, residential, and commercial buildings, whereas evidence on the spot, namely in-depth interviews and life stories, points out that gentrification and displacement phenomena can only be countered through public initiative (Zukin & Braslow, 2011; Grodach et al., 2018). Recent research argues that cities constitute the very location and the ideal horizon for innovation to occur not only in the cultural sphere but also in the scientific and technological one:

194  A. L. Palazzo and R. D’Ascanio they favor landing, processing, metabolizing, and disseminating ideas by mechanisms inherent to their development model (Sacco et al., 2014). The Ostiense district and its controversial roadmap University-driven regeneration?

In the mid-1980s, the Municipality of Rome was confronted to a huge regeneration need in the Ostiense district. Current planning regulations were clearly unfit to manage such transformation due to the lack of attractiveness of the area despite its location, massive presence of brownfields privately owned representing well-rooted interests, high depollution costs, and fluctuations in land market. On the backdrop of assured regeneration goals and new infrastructure provisions, the Progetto Urbano Ostiense Marconi (PUOM) was then conceived as a long-term strategy based on public-private partnerships requiring flexibility to cope with unpredictable events. Accordingly, notwithstanding the principle of an overall consistency, new locations, land use amendments, and an increase in floor area ratio may be considered in exchange for exactions in the form of development impact fees (so-called contributi straordinari), to be locally reinvested. Among all stakeholders committed to the PUOM, Roma Tre University was envisioned as an anchor institution due to its public mission and steady presence in the area. Ever since, the Tiber River has been conceived as the backbone of the huge wedge connecting Rome to the sea. Since the first sketches, a linear park along the shores would provide continuity through some major places, such as ‘Schuster’ Park next to Saint Paul’s Cathedral outside the Walls encompassing archaeological remains of Roman piers and catacombs, and minor pocket gardens and leisure areas. Over time, the Tiber would also embody biodiversity issues requiring the PUOM to embrace interdisciplinary adaptation and resilience perspectives merging urban design with landscape ecology concepts: in this frame, the Botanical Gardens entrusted to Roma Tre University at Valco San Paolo were expected to become a main focal point. At the time, infrastructure forecasts envisioned Via Ostiense as an urban promenade and a new expressway bordering the right bank of the Tiber for car mobility. In turn, the innovative idea of ‘clustering’ the main facilities in different enclosures would address manifold thematic identities while reshaping the in-between space: the ‘City of Arts’ corresponding to former Slaughterhouse (Mattatoio), would accommodate the Department of Architecture along with the Academy of Fine Arts, the MACRO Museum of Contemporary Arts, and the Testaccio Popular School of Music in place since 1975. Following negotiations with a major electricity network company, a brand new ‘City of ­Science’ – a Museum and a Library – overlooking the Tiber was expected to see the light in the premises and the skeleton of the former Gasometer, next to the Montemartini power station transformed into an exhibition space for the Capitoline Museums. In turn, the ‘City of Youth’ was to be located in the former wholesale market with new facilities for young people, a large multiplex, a shopping center, and neighborhood facilities. As seen, the PUOM was meant as a roadmap able to accommodate some minor changes occurring during the process without affecting its general philosophy. Nevertheless, such ‘planning-by-doing’ approach was hampered in its most challenging assumptions due to coordination hardships, financial constraints, and unsteady decision-making (Figures 16.3 and 16.4). On the governance grounds, feasibility studies and simulations on alternative scenarios were lacking, and the overall management was poorly adapted to the new setting prompted by urban regeneration. In terms of technical issues, several proposals were not sufficiently investigated,

Culture-led regeneration and urban governance  195

Figure 16.3  How the Ostiense district looked like in the early 90s. Source: Rabazo (2018).

Figure 16.4  How the Ostiense district was expected to become. Source: Rabazo (2018).

196  A. L. Palazzo and R. D’Ascanio resulting in inadequate or unfeasible arrangements that, however, would never be explicitly discarded. Among the causes for inaction and delays, high de-contamination costs of a few hectares of industrial land played a main role: this is the case for the challenging program of the ‘City of Science’ that has recently been allocated elsewhere. After a break during a decade and, subsequently, a much more market-oriented proposal, the destiny of the ‘City of Youth’ has made the subject of legal disputes. Institutional achievements

Since 2008, the city governance underwent significant changes in the hands of five mayors belonging to different political alliances and groupings. As for public space, crucial to the success of the regeneration process, the Botanical Gardens and the overall layout of the Tiber Park connecting several brownfields holding landmarks of industrial archeology in ruin are at a standstill: among the listed ones, many are under collapse risk. Here, once the damage is done, the real estate market is likely to cause rezoning and land use changes. Hence, the Science footbridge expressly built to facilitate accessibility among the riverbanks alongside a few surviving monumental hoppers turns out to be a dead end (Figure 16.5). Even though the City and University were strongly tied up within a series of partnership agreements, the time schedule was ill-defined. Some major adjustments would gradually entail different locations for Roma Tre facilities that, apart from the Department of Architecture hosted in Testaccio neighborhood, would be accommodated along the Via Ostiense in the place

Figure 16.5  The Gasometer along the Tiber River left bank. Source: Romina D’Ascanio (2022).

Culture-led regeneration and urban governance  197 of demolished buildings (the Department of Law in the place of a former glass factory), and in the site of Valco San Paolo, in brownfields (Department of Science), or in the premises of the former model testing tank (Department of Engineering). Other relevant yet isolated components have been layering the PUOM: the premises of Eataly, a chain of marketplaces and restaurants of high-quality Italian food, have been accommodated in the former Ostiense Terminal, realized for the 2000 Jubilee and quite immediately dismissed. The Teatro India, hosted in the compound of the Mira Lanza soap factory and operating since 1999, is being refurbished with some proximity facilities. ENI, the global energy company committed to achieving carbon neutrality by 2050, settled its innovation hub in the Gazometer c­ ompound appealing to other companies, startups, SMEs, higher education, and research facilities. Many development sites remain on hold after several international competitions: this is the case for the new headquarters of the Municipality of Rome (so-called ‘Campidoglio 2’) with some 4,000 employees. As for Roma Tre University, it has steadily kept going implementing in the last few years the new rectorate headquarters along Via Ostiense and a student residence in the Valco area (Figures 16.6–16.8). Here, in particular, time dilation accounts for some interference between the executive project of the facility at the starting line as of 2012 and subsequent construction of the local road network overlapping the parcel assigned to the university. Some illegal settlements just next to student house are a main matter of concern for the Municipality that has not appointed a proper location as yet. Drivers of change ‘outside the box’

As the Progetto urbano was implemented, urban sprawl was impacting the south-western sector along the Tiber plain downstream of Rome, an area accounting for 13% of the population of the Metropolitan City: Ostiense-Marconi acts as the outpost location of this huge wedge – the so-called ‘Tail of the Comet’– appealing to the creative sector due to low density settlement

Figure 16.6  Via Ostiense. Department of Law, designed by Alfredo Passeri and Giuseppe Pasquali, 2000. Source: Alfredo Passeri.

198  A. L. Palazzo and R. D’Ascanio

Figure 16.7  Via Ostiense. New rectorate, designed by Mario Cucinella, 2021. Source: Communication Office of Roma Tre University of Rome.

Figure 16.8  Valco San Paolo. Student house, designed by Lorenzo Dall’Olio, 2021. Source: Lorenzo Dall’Olio.

Culture-led regeneration and urban governance  199

Figure 16.9 Share of creative sub-sectors in the area between Rome and the sea. The area accounting for about 6% of the surface of the Metropolitan City of Rome was home in 2009 to 12% of creative firms, and 16% of the sector’s workers. Ostiense is framed by the rectangle. Source: Lelo (2019).

patterns with single-family houses, good accessibility standards compared to other locations, nature at hand (Figure 16.9)6. These suburbs are hardly amendable, and definitely less sound than the compact city, resulting in high private mobility costs, and unsustainable soil consumption. Here, a major concentration of small enterprises, far from being a ‘cluster,’ allows for self-help behaviors: the share of individual entrepreneurs and/or self-employed professionals accounts for 70%. Such remarkable relocation phenomena have met the urban governance largely unprepared to the environmental impacts, such as the hydraulic hazard in proximity of the Tiber, groundwater contamination, flood risks, and land cover fragmentation. In the Ostiense district, heavy refurbishment has provided top class apartments, and startups have settled in co-working spaces dispersed in the urban fabric, bringing further people, both residents and city users. The market forces have obtained demolition or conversion of remarkable industrial compounds (Ex-Mulini Biondi and Ex-Consorzi Agrari) attractive to people aspiring to a ‘loft living’ style with substantial consent from public administration (Racheli 2000). Meantime, the immigrants located in the district, naturally connected to global circuits, have intensified relationships and exchanges with their home countries giving life to a food district in its own, appealing to newcomers as well. Socializing activities have accelerated urban metabolism and updated space occupation practices: gaming, partying, trading appropriating derelict sites, badly kept gardens and parking lots, and implementing routines and processes outside current functional schemes (Piccinato, 2005; ­Aureli, 2011). In turn, since 2003, some ‘invisibles’ excluded by citizenship have found accommodation in a vacant building at Porto Fluviale. Besides

200  A. L. Palazzo and R. D’Ascanio the seek for emergency shelters, co-housing has proven a social experiment of utmost interest: the inner space is arranged according to households’ needs and provides a set of grassroots activities featuring sociability models and extending networks from proximity to the whole district and beyond. Over time, squatters have gained momentum becoming visible as social and political subjects countering gentrification within the powerful housing rights movements in place in Rome7 (Puccini, 2016). Thanks to a public grant, the Porto Fluviale building is currently undergoing a participatory planning program encompassing new dwellings for the 60 households already settled in, a plaza, and a market. Discussion The inherent weaknesses to urban governance

The PUOM has been conceived as an incremental procedure coupling certainty over strategy and flexibility over detail. However, unlike other European governance schemes entailing mutual trust in public-private partnerships, the City Council has not been able to ensure certain and timely implementation. All considered, aiming at reducing the uncertainty gap without sacrificing flexibility, the PUOM has lacked a steady roadmap addressing structural, functional, and temporal priorities and establishing specific rules for the negotiation process, even related to the extra fees that could be locally reinvested. Undergoing administrative turnovers, the department in charge of the PUOM (VI Dipartimento del Comune di Roma Capitale) lost its role, and implementation was performed on a case-by-case basis, making clear that public-private engagements would be only valid within the ‘enclosure’ of any single intervention by means of contractual arrangements. As seen, the City Council shares competences with the proximity institution, that is, VIII Municipio, with some 130,000 inhabitants. Despite little room for maneuver as for delegated powers and resources, the Municipio has carried out an irreplaceable listening strategy, holding a participatory process entailing annual budget proposals on the basis of citizens’ claims. Accordingly, from 2006 until its closure in 2012, the Urban Center put in place by the Municipio served as a meeting place for exchanging ideas and proposals on how to manage and transform the living environment. Thanks to regional tenders, the Municipio has dealt with security issues intended as a covenant of mutual trust between citizens and the proximity institution. An online database was updated daily with residents’ reports about poor maintenance, neglect, and vandalism, allowing the Municipality to intervene in real time. Participatory workshops with secondary school students held by the municipal technical structure concerned the temporary uses of a large parcel in decay earmarked to development: according to citizens’ requests, the contract with the construction company has envisaged a baseball field and a garden along with their maintenance and invigilation. However, as underlined, the initial momentum has cooled off, and the district is now confronted with a major change in the national and regional governing system. About 30 years have passed since the inception of the PUOM and the opening of Roma Tre, witnessing changes at the top of the administration, deadlock phenomena in the decision-making process, and explicit opposition. Tiredness and disappointment have emerged, as communication and inter-institutional coordination costs are not currently incorporated as administrative charges and seldom supported on a voluntary basis. As an example, the Tiber banks, whose destiny depends upon a series of authorities with overlapping competencies, are the main victims of such behaviors: they

Culture-led regeneration and urban governance  201 still suffer from the lack of accessibility and widespread decay. Only in the last two years has a project been launched for a river park, financed by the Lazio Region, on the right bank of the Tiber in the Marconi district. Furthermore, to overcome such planning and management stalemate concerning the Tiber River and its surrounding areas, the process of the Tiber River Contract from Castel Giubileo to the mouth was launched in 2017, promoted by Agenda Tevere onlus8. Over five years, the process has activated significant participatory dynamics throughout the city collecting project proposals from around 90 public institutions, private companies, and associations. The 2022–2025 three-year Action Plan includes 49 actions for almost 80 million euros, many of which concerning environmental education and cultural enhancement activities promoted by local associations. Challenges and perspectives in socio-spatial arrangements

Despite general appreciation of Ostiense as a creative district from scholars and media, urban regeneration has fallen short of its strategic vision, renouncing to encompass the threads of multifaceted stories within an overall geography. Since the 2000s, with an acceleration due to the pandemic crisis, digital technology has somehow demonstrated that work practices and transactions no longer require physical spaces or rather claim different physical spaces. This argument, debatable and controversial as it is, is often intertwined with the assumption that the same barriers between public and private space have generally fallen. Such ‘annihilation of space’ might bring to a dangerous removal from public debates and agendas. Grassroots movements in the Ostiense district have proven otherwise, gaining momentum, and broadening the discussion agenda, while the University itself has been performing so-called ‘third mission’ hosting a full calendar of events and workshops expressly devised for citizens. Co-working spaces are thriving and networking with students and residents fully aware of their entitlements. The creative class is challenging the rigidity of the built environment with graffiti, outdoor activities, and happenings, proving that space (and place) matters more than ever. Still, all these threads find it difficult to engage within a broader dimension of ‘futureness,’ hampered by an administrative tradition rooted in the legitimacy of the public realm. The VIII Municipio, currently undergoing a devolution process, will be entrusted to the control room of such practices, embedding new meanings and insights in everyday life. Sense of place stems from experiential and expressive ways places are known, imagined, yearned for, held, remembered, voiced, lived, contested and struggled over (Feld & Basso, 1996: 11); and placemaking features an integrated approach to planning, design, and management of public spaces with the support of local knowledge (Schneekloth, 1995). Such a participative and collaborative process coupling people and places is likely to succeed whenever it overcomes a given repertoire of urban behaviors by accommodating new opportunities with the existing assets and triggering social reproduction. The ultimate challenge is to attain an idea of the built environment as the assembling ground among different competing dimensions – local vs global, experience vs form, time vs space, nature vs culture – within regeneration paths integrating people narratives and urban codes. Conclusions In general terms, it can be argued that modernity and related planning practices foreshadowing and controlling space and its uses ‘in the time domain’ have long ago accomplished their cycle (Hobsbawm, 1994). In postmodernity, the outbreak of different, unexpected temporalities in the

202  A. L. Palazzo and R. D’Ascanio form of events or missed events, spurs to rethinking time itself ‘in the space domain,’ favoring multiple and concurrent uses and related socialization patterns. This proves true in the Ostiense district, where the ‘Knowledge City’ overlaps the persistent signs of the ‘Factory City,’ often at the expenses of the industrial heritage. What assumptions and values of modernity, such as heritage or landscape, could be subsumed in the ecological and digital transition era? What will be the role of open space traditionally experienced by citizens and its interface with human activities? How will big data help profile new responses to new requirements? Such issues go far beyond the scope of this contribution; however, digital transformation implies, among others, the fall of barriers based on theory and practice, and the dismission of cognitive knowledge of bureaucracy towards collective processes engaging community at large. Whatever the case, it is to be hoped that the upcoming urban governance provides sound theoretical basis by considering public space as a ‘common place’ for sharing opinions and visions between expert and local knowledge: a sort of visioning dealing with different cultures, uses, economies, and ecologies in space and over time, enhancing the extensive resources of landscape and landscaping, so little experienced and even less shared. Notes * Author Contributions: Both Authors have read and agreed to this version of the manuscript. Issues and contents of this article were largely discussed and shared. Specifically, section 1, section 3.2, section 4.1, were edited by Romina D’Ascanio, section 2, section 3.3, section 4.2, were edited by Anna Laura Palazzo. Abstract, section 3.1, and Conclusions were edited by both Authors. 1 At the time, with only 170,000 inhabitants, Rome was a medium size city compared to the Capitals all over Europe. 2 Unlike the most industrialized regions deeply affected by unemployment rates from the 1980s onwards, Rome and the Lazio Region have not undergone substantial shrinking in labor force size due to a considerable rise in the service sector and to a peculiar development path, where brand new industrial patterns would merge with traditional economy features. 3 The Municipio is an administrative sub-division of the Municipality of Rome. The territory of Rome is split into 15 Municipi. 4 The activities of the creative sector are split into ‘layers’ according to the creative value chain; the activities linked to the creation of contents are at the ‘core’ of the chain, while those linked to production, distribution, and trade are found on the ‘outskirts.’ 5 These industries include: the media (e.g., films, television, music recording, publishing); fashionable consumer goods sectors (e.g., clothing, furniture, jewelry); services (e.g., advertising, tourism, entertainment); a wide range of creative professions (e.g., architecture, graphic arts, web-page design); and collective cultural consumption facilities (e.g., museums, art galleries, concert halls). 6 The ‘Tail of the Comet’ was figured out in the mid-thirties of the last century by Gustavo Giovannoni as the possible and desirable expansion of Rome towards the sea. Urban growth has long since been supported by citywide facilities (Fiumicino International Airport, two harbors, a major exhibition center, several main roadways, a subway line, and two regional railways). 7 More than 100 buildings in Rome are currently occupied for residential purposes, hosting some 10,000 people. Conversely, quite surprisingly, there is little data on gentrification dynamics and preferred locations, concerning trade-off among takeover by creative class in a broad sense and displacement phenomena. 8 The River Contract is a collaborative governance tool introduced in the early 1980s in France, defined as a technical-financial agreement for the management of hydrographic units. In Italy, the River Contracts were introduced in the early 2000s and recognized at the legislative level in 2015 Art. 68-bis in the Environmental Code defines the River Contracts as “voluntary tools of strategic and negotiated planning that pursue the protection, correct management of water resources and enhancement of river areas, together with safeguarding from hydraulic risk, contributing to local development of these areas.”

Culture-led regeneration and urban governance  203 References Amin A., Thrift N. Cities: reimagining the urban. Oxford, UK and Cambridge, Mass: Blackwell, 190, 1994. Aureli D. Lo spazio pubblico nella città multietnica. I luoghi d’incontro delle comunità straniere come risorsa per la città contemporanea. Roma: Aracne, 2011. Avarello P., d’Errico R., Palazzo A.L., Travaglini C. “Il Quadrante Ostiense tra Otto e Novecento.” Roma moderna e contemporanea 12, n. 1–2, 2004. Boschma R.A., Klosterman R.C. Learning from clusters a critical assessment from an economic-­ geographical perspective. Dordrecht: Springer, 2005. Boschma R., Gianelle C. Regional branching and smart specialization policy, Technical reports S3 policy brief series, 6. Seville: Joint Research Center, 2014. Calafati A.G. Economie in cerca di città. Roma: Donzelli, 2010. Chesbrough H. Open innovation. The new imperative for creating and profiting from technology. Cambridge: Harvard Business School, 2006. De Propris L., Chapain C., Cooke P., MacNeill S., & Mateos-Garcia, J. The geography of creativity. ­London: Nesta, 2009. https://www.nesta.org.uk/report/the-geography-of-creativity/ Feld S., Basso K.H. Senses of place. Santa Fe: School of American Research, 1996. Florida R. The rise of the creative class. And how it’s transforming work, leisure and everyday life. New York: Basic Books, 2002. Foray D. Smart specialisation: Challenges and opportunities for regional innovation policies. London: Routledge, 2015. Foray D., Goenega X. “The Goals of Smart Specialization.” JRC Scientific and Policy Reports 3 Policy Brief Series, 2013. Glaeser E.L., Kallal H., Scheinkman J.A., Shleifer A. “Growth in Cities.” Journal of Political Economy 100, n. 6, 1992: 1126–1152. Granstrand O., Holgersson M. “Innovation Ecosystems: A Conceptual Review and a New Definition.” Technovation 90–91, 2020: 2–12. Grodach C., Foster N., Murdoch J. “Gentrification, Displacement and the Arts: Untangling the Relationship Between Arts Industries and Place Change.” Urban Studies 55, n. 4, 2018: 807–825. Hall P. “Creative Cities and Economic Development.” Urban Studies 37, n. 4, 2000: 639–649. Hall P. Good cities better lives. How Europe rediscovered the lost art of urbanism. London: Routledge, 2013. Hobsbawm E. The age of extremes: the short twentieth century, 1914–1991. New York: Vintage Books, 1994. Ingallina P. Le projet urbain. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 2001. Ishida T., Isbister K. Digital cities: technologies, experiences, and future perspectives. Dordrecht: Springer, 2000. James A., Martin R.L., Sunley P. “The Rise of Cultural Economic Geography.” In Critical Concepts in Economic Geography: Volume IV, Cultural Economy, edited by Martin R.L., Sunley P., London: ­Routledge, 2006. 1–18. Landry C. The creative city: a toolkit for urban innovators. London: Earthscan, 2000. Lelo K. From the subsidized muse to creative industries: convergences and compromises. Rome: Roma Tre Press, 2019. Lelo K., Monni S., Tomassi F. Le sette Rome. La capitale delle disuguaglianze raccontata in 29 mappe. Roma: Donzelli, 2021. Martin R., Kitson M., Tyler P. Regional competitiveness. London: Routledge, 2006. McCann P., Ortega-Argilés R. “Modern Regional Innovation Policy.” Cambridge Journal of Regions, Economy and Society 6, 2013: 187–216. McCann P., Ortega-Argilés R. “Smart Specialisation, Regional Growth, and Applications to EU Cohesion Policy.” Regional Studies 49, n. 8, 2015: 2–25. Miles S., Paddison R. “Introduction: The Rise and Rise of Culture-led Urban Regeneration.” Urban Studies 42, n. 5–6, 2005: 833–839. OECD. Innovation-driven growth in regions: the role of smart specialisation, 2013. https://www.oecd.org/ sti/inno/smartspecialisation.htm

204  A. L. Palazzo and R. D’Ascanio Palazzo A.L. “Culture-led Regeneration in Rome: From the Factory City to the Knowledge City.” International Studies. Interdisciplinary Political and Cultural Journal 19, 2017: 13–27. Palazzo A.L. “Territories and Productions: A Glimpse of the Lazio Region.” In The Guidelines of a New European Industrial Strategy Oriented to the Citizens and the Territory: Policy Proposals for the ­European Economic Growth, edited by Riccardo Cappellin, Ciciotti E., Battaglini E. Roma: Aisre, 2019. 176–184. https://economia.uniroma2.it/dmd/crescita-investimenti-e-territorio/ Piccinato G. (ed.). La Città eventuale. Pratiche sociali e spazio urbano dell’immigrazione a Roma. ­Macerata: Quodlibet, 2005. Puccini E. Verso una politica della casa, dall’emergenza abitativa romana ad un nuovo modello nazionale. Roma: Futura, 2016. Rabazo M. Tra Infrastrutture e Città: Spazi persi e luoghi d’opportunità nella scala intermedia del ­paesaggio, Il caso studio del Progetto urbano Ostiense-Marconi. PhD Dissertation. Roma: Roma Tre University of Rome, 2018. Racheli A.M. Restauro a Roma, 1870–2000. Architettura e città, Venezia: Marsilio, 2000. Sacco P., Ferilli G., Tavano Blessi G. “Understanding Culture-led Local Development: A Critique of ­Alternative Theoretical Explanations.” Urban Studies 51, n. 13, 2014: 2806–2821. Sassen S. The global city. New York, London, Tokyo. New York: Princeton University Press, 2001. Schneekloth L. Placemaking: the art and practice of building communities. Hoboken: John Wiley & Sons, 1995. Scott A.J. “Cultural Economy and the Creative Field of the City.” Geografiska Annaler: Series B, Human Geography 92, n. 2, 2010: 115–130. Soja E.W. Postmetropolis: critical studies of cities and regions. Oxford, UK and Cambridge, Mass: ­Blackwell, 2000. Tocci W. Roma come se. Alla ricerca del futuro per la capitale. Roma: Donzelli, 2020. Valdaliso J.M., Wilson J.R. Strategies for shaping territorial competitiveness. London: Routledge, 2015. Zukin S., Braslow L. “The Life Cycle of New York’s Creative Districts: Reflections on the Unanticipated Consequences of Unplanned Cultural Zones.” City, Culture and Society 2, n. 3, 2011: 31–140.

17

The art of dancing for urban design An examination of a creative built environment in Helsinki, Finland Tommi Inkinen

Geographers use location, space, and place as their standard concepts. They provide a common discipline flavour to any study focusing on urban geography, built environment, architectural (or material) space, and (urban) human interaction. The rate of urban (re)development has been increasingly fast in contemporary times. These developments embrace megatrends of environmental sustainability and the goal of creating low-emission buildings, digitalisation and the use of information integration in cities, and image creation in competitive urban economies. In ontological and epistemological theorisation of human geography, spatiality is widely considered as a non-pre-given container, but rather a dynamic entity that is produced through human action, values and ethics, and exercises of power (foundations, see Foucault, 1977; 1978). Thus, space is not an empty stage on which human activity ‘simply happens’ – it is actively produced and reproduced entity following Lefebvre’s (1991) highly influential proposition of the ‘production of space’ that has been a significant theoretical base for human geographers for decades. Spatial experiences (of an observer) of everyday life is constructed through materiality of built environment and resulting social interactions and human activities taking place in these places. This triad is perhaps the most commonly used framework to approach any geographical question of human activity (see Simonsen, 1996). Spatiality provides a theoretical base for this chapter. Content wise, it focuses on ‘creativity’. Widely used concepts in the contemporary urban studies include concepts such as creative class and its implications for creative city, smart city, human capital, and education, as well as knowledge-based city and urban development. In civil engineering, an older concept, ‘urban technology’, is applied to describe the availability, content, and usage of technology domains that are the foundation of smart urbanism and data-driven urban development (e.g., Yigitcanlar & Inkinen, 2019). Creative- and culture-rich urban locations have had their impact on geographies of cities and their images. Diverse and well-functioning urban form contributes to the well-being of citizens and users of public spaces such as parks and recreation areas. The experiences of environmentally sound and technologically progressed urban solutions are preconditions for contemporary socially mediated good life. The combination of the need of high-quality architectural design that enables culturally and socially active behaviour, commonly mediated by information and communication technologies such as social media platforms. This chapter focuses on creativity through function (activity content) performed in a building; in this, the function is dance (as an art form and a category). The chapter considers three fundamental spatial properties as research questions:

• The architectural design and function of the building itself – how does the building feel as an experienced space?

DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-19

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• The immediate surrounding (area) of the building and the potentials for social, interaction,

and culture within the close proximity – what are the key characteristics for social togetherness and creative interaction? • What broader image and message does the creative location entail and broadcast (city of Helsinki as a context)? Renovated or reused buildings and areas (as is the case here) and new landmark urban structures serve multitude of purposes. These include functionality, accessibility, progress, and ­elevation of location’s image. The reviewed literature combines three main conceptual bodies including spatiality, scale, and creativity (class and capital) (e.g., Hoyman & Faricy, 2009). However, as the urban creativity debate mainly concerns statistically verifiable aggregate units (e.g., Marrocu & Paci, 2012), spatial interpretations and notions regarding creative urban environment are essentially qualitative, as is the case here. Framework for creative city and human capital in cities Remarks on creative city and human capital

Spatial theories have traditionally focused on clustering. An increasing emphasis has been given to spatial characteristics aiming to promote innovative or creative ‘platforms’. The generic goal is to support knowledge creation and creativity. Spatial agglomerations of these ‘knowledge hotspots’ are intensive and they are often expected to drive the overall image of the city in which they are located. There are two focal concepts applied in contemporary research in empirics as well as growth theories (with variations). First, there is ‘human capital’ claim that recognises the importance of education and resulting knowledge resources for spatial development and clustering. Second, there is ‘creative class’ debate that emphasises also informal skills (e.g., self-learning) and creativeness (including arts, design, and crafts). Creative spaces and built environments have specific characteristics. As such, creativity and urban form has been exceedingly studied topic since Florida’s (2002) original work on creative class and its urban impacts. Following the paradigms of the world city (Friedmann, 1986), the global city (Sassen, 1991) and the space of flows (Castells, 1996), there are several empirical studies concerning ‘competitive’ cities in urban geography. High-end design buildings and recognisable architecture are often associated with a positive urban image. Still, it is justifiable to ask how much do creative concepts (people, locations, tasks, performance, arts) drive the development of creative, smart, or knowledge-based city (e.g., Clark, 2003; Makkonen et al., 2018; Yigitcanlar & Inkinen, 2019). Already decades ago, Barro (1991) presented a correlation between human capital and (national) economic growth. These study designs were later narrowed and targeted to urban centres that function as the cores of social, cultural, and economic activity (e.g., Rauch, 1993; Simon & Nardinelli, 1996, 2002; Zucker et al., 1997; Simon, 1998; Glaeser, 2000; Henry & Pinch, 2000). Economic properties are not the key characteristic in the case of the dance house, but they do underlay all large-scale building investments, also in the case of culture or arts. The studied case creates urban image that entails urban image definable as smart, intelligent, or creative. ‘Creative location’ is an ambiguous concept to operationalise. It commonly refers to the agglomeration of creative people (i.e., ‘bohemians’ in Florida’s work) and highly educated people, thus combining human capital and creative class theses. Bohemians are the most problematic category, as it has been empirically proved to be fairly insignificant explanative factor (in terms of economic urban growth), particularly when co-examined with formal education indicators

The art of dancing for urban design  207 (Levine, 2004; Glaeser, 2005). Marrocu and Paci (2012) showed how the results are easily biased because the creativity and human capital are (mostly empirically, sometimes also conceptually) two overlapping concepts. Research has progressed, and Florida (2012) himself noted that the creative movement had shifted in ten years since his original work that time. Easily, it is argued that the shifting has continued during the following last ten years to current date. As can be suspected, analysis trends have moved from statistical analyses towards in-depth inquiries of case locations already identified as creative ones. In the case of Helsinki, Inkinen and Kaakinen (2016) conducted a specific analysis of innovation clusters that include ‘creative’ indicators. Afterwards, Ponto and Inkinen (2019) presented a qualitative study of the most important clusters in the Helsinki metropolitan area. The dance house case continues that research line and presents a single building construction and its surroundings located in Ruoholahti area next to the core centre of Helsinki. A significant societal criticism towards creativity conceptualisation in empirics comes from Krätke (2010, 2012), who criticised the idea of creativity as a ‘class’. Accordingly, a concept of creative cities was argued: “as an expression of the aggregated collective capability of its economic and social actors”, which “comprise particular occupational groups specializing in creative and innovative activity – to yield new forms, products, and problem solutions” (Krätke, 2012: p. 15). These occupational groups also need specifically designed spaces and the dance house is one of the prime examples of combining creativeness with the built environment. Highly advanced hot-spot designs in urban structure may be considered as examples of fragmentation of urban development in the postmodern sense as Soja, already decades ago (1996, 2000), critically elaborated on Los Angeles and its splintered planning disintegration. Soja’s examples are not directly applicable to Finland due to the different planning history and tradition, but the theoretical claim matters: Fragmentation increases and power structures have an impact on what the final outcome (built environment) will look like. In the Finnish case, cities (and nation as a whole) have a strong policy orientation towards balanced spatial development. In other words, all locations should support similar opportunities and their usability should not be dependent on the socio-economic status or heritage (i.e., age, gender, race) – the goal of social inclusiveness is strongly present in all decision-making related to urban planning and renewal. To summarise, history signifies, as the dance house structure has originally (partly) been an industrial factory manufacturing cables. A widely used term in urban studies has been gentrification that refers to renewal of old and less developed spatial units into other, mainly housing and other real estate, uses. The renewal also means changing of the residents’ socio-economic profile towards higher categories. Ruoholahti area where the cable factory is located, however, is not a very good example of socio-economic gentrification as the area had very limited residential housing before the 1990s. It has been fully an industrial district and all the surrounding buildings are for business office buildings or other service industry locations. These locations evolve in time and provide an interesting view on path dependency of built environment. History stacks (on each step of purpose) and this is visible in the location design in each period – the outcome can be surprisingly different from the original purpose and/or design. Classification frame for urban image and activity spaces

The framework is founded on spatial scaling and includes three major contents: Material (architectural); Social (human interaction); and Experienced (mental spaces and location feeling). All spatial aspects in Figure 17.1 (leftmost boxes) are interlinked with each other and with the spatial scale (building, surrounding, city context). These two main dimensions then have implications (purposes) derivable from the building as a part of urban form.

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Figure 17.1  A classification framework for assessing creative location in a city. Source: Author.

In terms of urban locations and built environment, the creative class debate manifests itself through those people who are using the particular spaces. Therefore, spatial theory provides a good platform to present the case through interactions of spatial characteristics, spatial scales, and desired goals (or implications). Figure 17.1 enables a classification to study the dance house through these key concepts accordingly. First, material space is manifested structure, architecture, and design. It is widely used as the basis for urban renewal, redesign, and construction. Social space refers to the practices that people have and form in material spaces. Experienced space refers to feeling and ‘atmosphere’ of the construction through material and social spaces. These three categories are key elements in human geography to divide and understand spatial entities. They are also robust and transformable to other (content) concepts such as positively–negatively or inclusive–exclusive spaces. Second, creativity is without a question realised in the studied construction (Figure 17.2 exteriors). The space is high-end in terms of its outer design, equipment, and services supporting the whole idea of ‘creativeness’ also in broader spatial spectrum. Third, the building facilities include a large open space and a cafeteria for collaborative work and interaction (openness and accessibility, middle boxes in Figure 17.1). Thus, the building itself expands over the rigid purpose of providing facilities for physical efforts of dance but also enables social interaction, specifically in the large glass lobby. There are some contradictions in ‘openness’, i.e., inclusiveness of spatial design. The dance house lobby and cafeteria are open spaces (see Figure 17.3 interiors). Majority of the floorplan in interior spaces is restricted and an idea of ‘open creative space’ is not realised in daily use. Thus, the building provides traditional pay-to-enter model of an art-driven space design. The new structure has its own lobby area and common spaces outside the three auditoriums for the artists and staff (i.e., backstage). However, for the occasional visitor, these spaces are invisible and thus restricting the usability potential of the building. The rightmost box in Figure 17.1 is perhaps the most significant one. It represents implications (goals, desires, and expectations) that the building might have towards the city. The city refers here mainly to the officials and planners but also to public, who are the end-users of the dance house space (and other parts of the ‘cable factory’). It is also worthy to recognise the feedback loop. After implementation, the structure, its social use and interactivity with the residents and visitors, and the experienced felt that the location fundamentally determine how successful the project has been.

The art of dancing for urban design  209

Figure 17.2  Dance house exteriors, close proximity plaza, and building entrance. Source: Photos by the author (May 2022).

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Figure 17.3  Dance house lobby, entrance to performance hall and cafeteria. Source: Photos by the author (May 2022).

Case insights of urban creative locations and built environment Properties of the case

The dance house is located in Ruoholahti district in the centre of Helsinki, Finland. The reason for selecting dance house as the case derives from its location (area ‘Ruoholahti’ has been since 1990s one major business area in Helsinki metropolitan area (HMA) (e.g., Inkinen, 2015;

The art of dancing for urban design  211 I­ nkinen & Kaakinen, 2016; Kiuru & Inkinen, 2017), in Finland, and Northern Europe in general. The selected location also includes a combination of old and new structural designs. Thus, it is partly reused industrial space that is amended with brand new design purely for the needs of dancing. It encompasses all characteristics of creative urban form. Third, it was timely opened for public in February 2022. One of the goals of the building is to provide facilities and establish connection between dancing art, urban citizen living and interaction, and influential architectural construction. How to approach this case then? Technically, the case is presented and assessed with photographs, site visits, and elements depicting the three defined research questions. Thus, the approach uses spatial scales to identify geographical nexuses between creative activity (dancing) with elements of (innovative) urban planning and site construction. Classification is divided into specific contents according to the three spatial layers (building, close proximity surroundings, and the city of Helsinki). There are several earlier qualitative studies of creativity and knowledge-intensity in the ­Helsinki Metropolitan Area and in the city of Helsinki (Inkinen & Vaattovaara, 2010; Inkinen, 2013; Ponto & Inkinen, 2019; Inkinen & Jokela, 2020), this case study presents an addition to other qualitative and small-scale (building or residential area) case studies. The dance house is an example of a current hotspot in ‘creative city’ development. Even though the photographs and site-visits provide a subjective and unique representation of the case, in specific context of time and location, they also capture significant properties of contemporary goals in urban design and image building. The dance house uses several social media platforms and they provide extensive amount of basic information concerning the building architecture, facilities, and organised events. For example, the building website describes the location as follows: “Dance House Helsinki is the first building in Finland designed on the terms of dance. The impressive new building and renovated premises in the old parts of the Cable Factory are a result of the design efforts of … Dance House has two venues for organizing shows, the 700-seat Erkko Hall and the 235-seat Pannu Hall, a connecting Lobby between them, a Cellar suitable for clubhouse activities, a training studio, a greenroom and an office …” (Premises, https://www.tanssintalo.fi/en/premises, accessed March 14, 2023). The website gives an indication to intelligent building design through flexibility and versatility. Performance spaces are separate but also connectable. The largest capacity for performance spectators is approximately a thousand. Spaces are also capable of multipurpose functions, i.e., they are usable also for concerts, seminars, or photoshoots when needed. As indicated, information sources for external observation of the dance house are extensive but location site-visits are perhaps the best way to obtain qualitative characteristics and experience of the location. Visualisations and images depicting a creative location

The best way to represent the dance house case is to look at the first element in Figure 17.1 (Architecture). In order to do so, a set of photographs are divided to show exterior and interior details. Dance house’s exterior (Figure 17.2) is characterised by two large and fundamentally different elements: the old structure of the cable factory and the new one of the dance house. The exterior of the new part is a cube that has spherical decorative elements. The used visible materials include mainly silver and black metal and wood. Finnish architecture has a long tradition of using wood elements and with varying colour palettes. The exterior provides quite traditional selection of contemporary visual elements and design often found in other large constructions

212  T. Inkinen done in Helsinki during the 2000s (e.g., reference buildings in Helsinki are ‘Oodi’ [the city main library]; ‘Kaisa’ [the university main library]; and ‘music hall’ [fully owned by public sector]). Two topmost photos in Figure 17.2 show the spherical metallic decorations against the black background. There are small fluctuations and variations on these parts of the outer walls and they give a feeling of liveliness to the otherwise quite simple execution. The wood panelling is in the middle range between dark and lightwood, probably due to highly changing annual weather conditions, as darker colours are often easier to maintain. The four other (middle section and bottom) photographs focus on presenting the immediate surroundings. As common, due to the time (season and daily) of the photograph taking there are very few or no people around the building (practically at all). This is significant for the interactivity (social space) element of spatial theory. Central position and easy accessibility should increase public interest to visit and interact with the space and services provided in the building but it is clear that fundamental goal of the building is to function as a private space fully usable only for specific events and private functions. The dance house does provide ‘open doors’ days for public a few times per year. They have been relatively popular indicating the public interest towards the building. However, the social sphere that they create is limited to architectural observation: not engagement as such. The exterior design is continued (and supplemented), as might be expected, with corresponding combination of old and new in the public interior spaces (Figure 17.3). Interior part of the dance house is interesting as the actual new part of the building is closed for audiences. It includes its own lobby space and other communal spaces in addition to large auditoriums but they are not accessible by the public. The topmost photographs of Figure 17.3 show the glass-structured design lobby open to public and a doorway that integrates old cable factory wall to the closed dance auditoriums. The access to the auditoriums goes directly through these lobby doors creating an integral feeling of joint-spaces. Photographs also reveal a limited amount of seats. This creates a feel of formality and standing reception for the whole space. However, the cafeteria directly accessible from the lobby provides additional large number of seats and resting places for those in need. The bottom photograph illustrates the cafeteria that forms the heart for social interaction in the building. Style-wise the decoration and spatial experience are textbook examples of the reused and redesign industrial space with contemporary urban art. The large graffiti visible from the large windows underlines the urban connection of interior design and urbanism. A nice detail in cafeteria (design) is that it has kitchen closets and cupboards together with a large table with professional chairs similar to numerous ‘brainstorming’ spaces of (creative) offices. Table 17.1 summarises the interactivity framework of Figure 17.1 with practical implications. Overall, the architectural structure (building) and three spatial dimensions (material, social, and experienced) prove contradictions. The new part of the dance house implies a clear-cut distinction from the old structure on the outside but the integration is more fluid inside ­(Figures 17.2 and 17.3). Architectural solutions are minimalistic using typical colour palette and decorative additions to create variations and surprising elements, particularly in the exterior parts. The dance house is foremost an architectural project designed mainly for the purposes of dancing. It is also commercial space, sometimes referred to as a semi-public space that still tries to uphold elements of accessibility both in physical and social senses. The building facilitates only a limited account for social interactivity or creative use of urban design. Relatively large open plaza outside the cubic structure has potential (particularly during the summer) to attract outside events or gatherings but due to the densely built neighbourhood it is unlikely that the plaza would either be widely used for collective purposes. Ruoholahti itself has more attractive and convenient places for spontaneous urban events (e.g., picnics or small

The art of dancing for urban design  213 Table 17.1  Summary of the dance house characteristics according to spatial dimensions and scale Building

Immediate surrounding

Helsinki context

Business environment, small Another culture and art-driven wow architecture open plaza. Connects well building in Helsinki. to public transport via Complementing earlier tram stop. Grey empty projects in the core centre area without any specific (music house; city main inspiring details (other library ‘Oodi’; Kiasma than the dance house modern art museum). itself). Limited to main lobby and Not active. Mainly go Event-driven location. cafeteria spaces. Glass through area. Has a Helsinki’s other locations design, large spaces, (e.g., core centre potential to engage in limited amount of social meetings but the buildings) offer better and space is too limited. larger locations for social seats or places to rest. urban activities. Mainly for events and performance breaks. An addition to other building Clean and straightforward ‘In-between space’ for projects but is located Scandinavian design trespassing and entering elsewhere. Contributes to tradition. For short the cable-factory/dance the actively build image of periods convenient, for house premises. Could be creative and smart city. longer ones not so. further developed e.g., with public art.

Material space Combination of old cable-factory with modern cube architecture with detailed exterior design. Social space

Experienced space

markets), and as the area is located very close to the city centre there are old parks and other green spaces providing more suitable places for spending time. The plaza does have a tram platform next to it providing excellent connectivity to public transport but alone it probably does not carry the locations attractiveness more than transit of event spectators. Other times than performance and event periods the dance house feels like a stereotypical functional space as an experience. It is not a public space in terms of accessibility or usability. It is mainly a commercial space available for renting and arranging various types of events other than related to dancing. The exterior and interior designs are in line with creating contemporary (sustainable) architecture but the usability aspect decreases the overall value of the building. As stated in Table 17.1 the overall feel of the building surroundings could be enhanced with outdoor art or other designs. There are such art works in Rouholahti area but they are not in immediate proximity to the dance house (i.e., visible from the entrance or the plaza). Overall, it feels that the cable factory and the new attached wing of dance house are another typical example of a central location that is still remote. In other words, one has to have a purpose to go there; it is unlikely that visitors or residents would go there by a random chance. Discussion Valuation and conceptualisation of a built creative location and establishing their geographical implications involve diversity and complexity. There are contradictions in the urban creativity debate. One is the significance of the creative for economic wellbeing and growth. The second is the interpretation of the (architectural) form as a part of larger spatial scales. Creative activities are hosted in these particular places and locations and thus the question is to think about how the ‘creativity’ is actualised (i.e., produced) and what effects they have in cities. Representations matter and a common criticism is that high-end architectural investments produce too

214  T. Inkinen large and ill-fitting structures (buildings) in the urban structure. This is a constant debate in the decision making of public spaces particularly in the case where cities are proprietors making the investments. Public debate and participation is constant in the considerations of the selected winners as all major construction investments are openly competed among architectural offices and constructors. Considering the case, the architectural design represents multitudes of purposes with the goal of improving urban lifestyle and community. How these interactions manifest in different parts of the world varies according to local and national cultures. First, the case entails recognition of global image and competition in cities (see Inkinen & Vaattovaara, 2007). Truly global cities aim to attract professionals (also dancers), investors, and companies. Urban development often aims to aid social, environmental, economic, and technological goals. The most creative cities tend to be among traditional global cities that are also the most important connecting nodes of flows of information, goods, and people. Second, the identification of the impacts and consequences that the creative and inspirational site (location) has on urban structure and lived urbanism. Third, there are spatial differences in the usages of creative spaces. These creative hotspots manifest themselves in terms of their international reputation and image (i.e., positive visibility). Take away lessons from the case are that combination and utilisation of old structures in the creation of new spaces for arts and culture is still a highly viable solution. Urban renewal by using old structures and e.g., industrial buildings in new purposes rose a significant popularity in the 1990s. Since then the availability of the underused industrial locations has decreased, whereas the costs of renovations have increased substantially. Second lesson is that even a recognised landmark, the dance house operates on closed logic. This is understandable if it manages to yield enough income to cover both event expenses, maintenance, and marketing costs. As the interior photographs reveal, the public spaces in the case of the dance house are large and extensive but they actually have a limited amount of seats and places for rest, other than commercial space of the cafeteria. The main spatial use principle of the lobby area is ‘standing’ and thus directly implies short-time visits and use. Additionally, the operating logic also causes that the finely tuned lobby, cafeteria, and other spaces will be underused. It is likely that between event times will remain silent periods. From the perspective of using urban spaces creatively hopefully innovative events, attractive (open) gatherings, and all kinds of refreshing happenings would emerge. This would also increase the familiarity of the dance house among local residents. Third and finally, accessibility and customer feedback cannot be underestimated. As the dance house is a traditional semi-public ‘pay-to-use’ space it needs customer feedback for improving the facilities. However, it is unlikely that major changes will take place in the near future, because the facility recently opened and COVID-19 pandemic has barred the demand for cultural onsite events – now in the current situation it is likely that the dance house will have an overbuild customer demand and will be economically successful in the coming seasons. However, if goals of participatory urbanism, open access, and public impact are considered, improvements could be made particularly in the use planning of the outside areas (specifically the open plaza). Customer feedback will be the key to unlocking the demand and popularity of these ideas and proposals. However, as the dance house and cable factory premises are private endeavours (even with strong public funding support) the outside development is likely to be slow. As a final interpretative remark, it is necessary to consider digitalisation that plays an increasingly important role in current and future urban designs. In the case of the dance house, the main technologies available to ‘occasional visitor’ are limited to free wireless local area network (WLAN) and mobile applications using quick response (QR) codes. They are quite standard

The art of dancing for urban design  215 access technologies to information and provide nothing new. There are new and additional potentials for high-end architecture, e.g., in increasing visitor experience with emerging consumer technologies such as augmented reality (AR). Obviously, the technological adoption time flows very differently in various ‘creative’ domains. Still, considering the potential for new high-tech solutions this opportunity has virtually been lost in this creative location. This entails also the problem of combining concepts of ‘smart’ and ‘creative’ in practical execution. Conclusions The pervasive continuation of urban development (e.g., with landmark urban designs, sustainable building solutions, and the use of intelligent structures) is an influential trend in global cities. The process of structuring the information and content presented regarding cities and their specific strengths are essential in geographical research of creative cities. Empirical observations done in this chapter represent a current desire in urban development to strive towards sustainable, visually impressive, and functional spaces. Very often specific purpose constructions (such as the dance house here) could be amended with supportive functions such as collaboration rooms, interactive communication tools, and free available time slots for everyone to book and use. Currently, these are missing, and thus reducing the new landmark art location, as a traditional closed space. The case demonstrates that the city governments admiration towards sustainable and creative locations stem from the overall city image. Still, this is understandable, as the city of Helsinki has contributed substantially to the overall building costs. Ruoholahti, as the host area of the dance house, boosts the overall image of business environment and densely built urban core. The immediate surrounding of the dance house gives the final touch to embed creativity-driven architecture that supports ideas of modern, state-of-the-art designs, made primarily for specific (creative) purpose such as dancing. For future research, there are three main lines of inquire that should be examined: First, international studies of the most significant successes as well as failures in implementation (how the structure fits the surrounding area), and economic viability (unanticipated construction and maintenance cost increases) provides an interesting venue for research. Second, the problem between closed spaces (pay-to-enter) and open public spaces (accessible without specific event or invitation) still remains theoretically interesting topic, particularly in the case of creative spaces or spaces made for creative purposes. This is linked to the third future research task that asks how public and private partnerships are formed in order to create these new spaces. The question of location is highly relevant here: how does city government decide and deduce locations for new cultural spaces, and how do the new buildings connect and fit to the surrounding area and the city? References Barro, R.J. (1991). Economic growth in a cross section of countries. The Quarterly Journal of Economics 106, 407–443. Castells, M. (1996). The Information Age: Economy, Society and Culture (3 volumes). Blackwell, Oxford. Clark, T.N. (2003). Urban amenities: Lakes, opera and juice bars, do they drive development? In T.N. Clark (ed.): The City as an Entertainment Machine. Research in Urban Policy. Vol. 9, 103–140. ­Emerald, Bingley. Florida, R. (2002). The Rise of the Creative Class. Basic Books, New York. Florida, R. (2012). The Rise of the Creative Class: Revisited. Basic Books, New York. Foucault, M. (1977). Discipline and Punish. The Birth of the Prison. Surveiller et punir. Pantheon Books, New York.

216  T. Inkinen Foucault, M. (1978). The History of Sexuality, Vol. 1. Histoire de la sexualité. Lane, London. Friedmann, J. (1986). The world city hypothesis. Development and Change 17:1, 69–83. Glaeser, E.L. (2000). The new economics of urban and regional growth. In G.L. Clark, M.S. Gertler & M.P. Feldman (eds.): The Oxford Handbook of Economic Geography. Oxford University Press, Oxford. Glaeser, E.L. (2005). Review of Richard Florida’s the rise of the creative class. Regional Science and Urban Economics 35:5, 593–596. Henry, N. & Pinch, S. (2000). Spatialising knowledge: Placing the knowledge community of motor sport valley. Geoforum 31:2, 191–208. Hoyman, M. & Faricy, C. (2009). It takes a village: A test of the creative class, social capital, and human capital theories. Urban Affairs Review 44:3, 311–333. Inkinen, T. (2013). Creating a knowledge-based city: A spatial examination of the university of Helsinki’s main library. In T. Yigitcanlar & M. Bulu (eds.): Proceedings of the 6th Knowledge Cities World Summit, KCWS 2013, 508–518. Lookus Scientific, Istanbul. Inkinen, T. (2015). Reflections on the innovative city: Examining three innovative locations in a knowledge bases framework. Journal of Open Innovation 1:8, 1–23. Inkinen, T. & Jokela, S. (2020). Start-ups, business investors and flow of music: Contrasting two creative events in Helsinki, Finland. In S. Di Vita & M. Wilson (eds.): Planning and Managing Smaller Events: Downsizing Urban Spectacle. Routledge, London. Inkinen, T. & Kaakinen, I. (2016). Economic geography of knowledge intensive technology clusters: ­Lessons from the Helsinki metropolitan area. Journal of Urban Technology 23:1, 95–114. Inkinen, T. & Vaattovaara, M. (2007). Technology and Knowledge-Based Development. Helsinki Metropolitan Area as a Creative Region. ACRE Report 2.5. University of Amsterdam Press, Amsterdam. Inkinen, T. & Vaattovaara, M. (2010). Creative urban region in the Nordic country. Combining tradition with development in Helsinki. In K. Metaxiotis, F.J. Carrillo & T. Yigitcanlar (eds.): KnowledgeBased Development of Cities and Societies: Integrated Multi-Level Approaches, 196–210. IGI Global, ­Hershey. DOI:10.4018/978-1-61520-721-3.ch012 Kiuru, J. & Inkinen, T. (2017). Predicting innovative growth and demand with proximate human capital: A case study of the Helsinki metropolitan area. Cities 64, 9–17. Krätke, S. (2010). ‘Creative cities’ and the rise of the dealer class: A critique of Richard Florida’s approach to urban theory. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research 34:4, 835–853. Krätke, S. (2012). The Creative Capital of Cities: Interactive Knowledge Creation and the Urbanization Economies of Innovation. Vol. 79, John Wiley & Sons, Oxford. Lefebvre, H. (1991). The Production of Space. Blackwell, Oxford. Levine, M.A. (2004). Government policy, the local state, and gentrification: The case of Prenzlauer Berg (Berlin), Germany. Journal of Urban Affairs 26:1, 89–108. Makkonen, T., Merisalo, M. & Inkinen, T. (2018). Containers, facilitators, innovators? The role of cities and city employees in innovative activities. European Urban and Regional Studies 25:1, 106–118. Marrocu, E. & Paci, R. (2012). Education or creativity: What matters most for economic performance? Economic Geography 88:4, 369–401. Ponto, H. & Inkinen, T. (2019). Knowledge-based environments in the city: Design and urban form in the Helsinki metropolitan area. International Journal of Knowledge-Based Development 10:2, 155–175. DOI:10.1504/IJKBD.2019.101004 Rauch, J.E. (1993). Productivity gains from geographic concentration of human capital: Evidence from the cities. Journal of Urban Economics 34, 380–400. Sassen, S. (1991). The Global City. New York, London, Tokyo. Princeton University Press, Princeton. Simon, C. (1998). Human capital and metropolitan employment growth. Journal of Urban Economics 43, 223–243. Simon, C. & Nardinelli, C. (1996). The talk of the town: Human capital, information and the growth of English cities, 1861–1961. Explorations in Economic History 33:3, 384–413. Simon, C. & Nardinelli, C. (2002). Human capital and the rise of American cities, 1900–1990. Regional Science and Urban Economics 32:1, 59–96.

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Section III

Environment and Space

18

End of the Holocene City The limits of urban imagination1 Francisco Javier Carrillo

Beyond urban creativity The term “creativity” as applied to urban environments has diverse connotations, some of these contradictory and often strongly contested (Peck, 2005). According to Meusburger (2009), over a hundred different definitions exist in the literature. In fact, the concept of urban creativity runs parallel to the concept of modern cities and is, therefore, subject to the vagaries of urban development (Van Damme et al., 2017). As Charles Laundry, one of the pioneers in the field, has pointed out, “the creative city notion is in danger of hollowing out by general overuse of the word ‘creative’ as applied to people, activities, organizations, urban neighbourhoods, or cities that objectively are not especially creative”.2 To clarify this chapter’s focus on urban imagination and how it relates to both urban creativity and urban innovation, these concepts will be briefly examined. A distinction is required between often interchanged concepts such as creativity, innovation, novelty, originality, disruption, and imagination. In their contemporary and most extensive use, both creativity and innovation seem to share a common criterion: the market sanction of value production. Hence, Michael Mumford (2003, p. 110). summarized scientific research into creativity in the following terms: “Over the course of the last decade, however, we seem to have reached a general agreement that creativity involves the production of novel, useful products” This is the sense in which the concept of “creative industries” has come to encompass that of “creative cities” and has been criticized as a trojan horse to promote urban gentrification or “artwashing” (Pritchard, 2020). A parallel attempt by Baregheh et al. (2009, p. 1334) to compile the extant literature on innovation concluded that “innovation is the multi-stage process whereby organizations transform ideas into new/improved products, service or processes, in order to advance, compete and differentiate themselves successfully in their marketplace”. The dominant paradigm seems to require a historical, economic, and social perspective to detach the potential of creativity and innovation from their current neoliberal overtones. Industrial capitalism is now held accountable not only for the extreme inefficiency in allocating global resources but also for the irreparable damage to the biosphere and the resulting existential threats caused by relentless growth and unbound consumerism (Soriano, 2021; Saito, 2022). Since both creativity and innovation involve a recombination of existing elements in a novel form, urban creativity and innovation for the Anthropocene require both, to overcome the dominant economic paradigm and to redraw the space of possibilities for urban creativity and innovation by reinventing the elements, the limits, and the rules of the game. The recent debate on AI, given the visibility that Large Language Models (LLMs) including ChatGPT and other neural network developments gained at the end of 2022 (see, e.g., Acemoglu DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-21

222  F. J. Carrillo and Johnson, 2023; Wolfram, 2023), is of relevance here. The reason is that the debate on the comparison, replaceability, and potential overcoming of human intelligence by computing capacity is drawn to its limits by these technologies. Rather than the broader concepts of creativity and originality that might have worked so far, an operational definition is made necessary for moving forward. In clarifying the implications of LLMs for employment, Eichengreen (2023) contends that the jobs less at risk of being displaced by AI are those requiring both empathy and originality. While empathy is – says Eichengreen – “the ability to understand and share the feelings and emotions of others”, originality “means doing something that hasn’t been done previously”. The critical dimension here is novelty, which becomes context-dependent, culturally relative, and therefore, conventional. This sense is related to disruption, which entails an unprecedented understanding of and solution to a problem situation. So, how to determine novelty, and therefore, originality and disruption in contemporary urban development? I contend that the unprecedented status of the current global urban situation is largely determined by the concrete challenges that cities around the world have begun to face day by day due to the consequences of global warming and other anthropogenic planetary limits. Since, by definition, the Anthropocene Epoch is distinct from the geological timeframe when cities emerged and evolved into their current form, it will demand a novel and disruptive approach. Unprecedented circumstances demand unprecedented solutions. Cities are children of the Holocene, as explained below. The Anthropocene marks a novel epoch where the climatic conditions that made human settlements possible no longer hold. Hence, we reach a preliminary conclusion: urban creativity, in the context of the climate emergency, is the collective intelligence to mitigate and adapt to the challenges of the Anthropocene as these unfold. Holocene code of urban genetics Humanity lived the largest proportion of its existence as nomads (Bettinger et al., 2015; ­Barnard, 2020). Nomadic hunting-gathering involved distinctive ways of relating to Earth (Ingold, 1996). While homo sapiens-sapiens started walking the Earth over 300,000 years ago, two key precursors of urban civilization – sedentary agriculture and permanent human settlements – started only about 10,000--12,000 years ago. The Holocene arose approximately 11,650 calendar years ago (Walker et al., 2009), the geological epoch that is now arguably ending to give way to the Anthropocene (Zalasiewicz et al., 2019). The Holocene marked the end of the last glacial period and was characterized by relatively stable and favourable conditions for human settlements. The period corresponds to the rapid expansion of our species globally, and it witnessed most of the recorded history as well as the rise and fall of civilizations and the transition to modern society. Among all its diverse cultures and forms, the city epitomizes the modern human presence on Earth. Within the singularly benevolent Holocene, towns have been the nesting shapes of human life. This, however, is changing. Human activities also made an unprecedented impact on the Biosphere during the Holocene resulting in current anthropogenic existential challenges to ecosystems. As described below, the proposed new epoch of the Anthropocene is characterized by a disruption of the environment on a geological scale. In the wake of its dominance and expansion, the human species sees its very existence endangered. Currently, the exceptionally benign conditions of the Holocene are giving way to conditions that make human survival more challenging (UNDP, 2022). In a few words, paradise is lost.

End of the Holocene city  223 After leaving the Holocene and entering the Anthropocene, we are likely to encounter several unprecedented challenges that threaten our ability to continue inhabiting this planet. City culture has been made possible solely by the unique environmental circumstances of the city as the embodiment of our integration into Earth’s system. A fossil record as unique in history as it is fragile: more than two-thirds of Earth’s history (first ten billion years) was devoid of life, and once life appeared (four billion years ago), microorganisms continued to be the dominant form of life. In the course of the evolution of more complex organisms, conditions for life also changed. There have been five major extinction events (a sharp decrease in the biodiversity of multicellular organisms) over the last 540 million years and the sixth may arguably be underway now (Novacek and Cleland, 2001). Life on Earth has evolved through a catastrophic and turbulent history rather than an incremental and smooth one. The biosphere is experiencing a “state shift” that may threaten human life support systems (Barnosky et al., 2012). As a result, urban foundations are liable to be shaken and disturbed. As an example, the existence of infinite supply resulting from indefinite growth is unlikely to be sustained. The accessibility to basic inputs, such as food, water, and energy, cannot be taken for granted anymore. In comparison with the scale of the challenges that may lie ahead, the COVID-19 pandemic, after causing such a significant social and economic disruption, pales in comparison. Cities are fragile complexes made up of a great variety of interconnected subsystems, akin to card castles, each subsystem subject to unique risks. If several of these are disrupted simultaneously, the whole city life falls apart. The axiological and conceptual foundations of our cities require a critical examination. Their environmental economic, cultural, and political bases to responsibly face the challenges of the Anthropocene as these unfold must be revised. It is therefore necessary not only to question modern urban living but also the whole way we relate to this planet. No mitigation, adaptation, or reform for a city will be effective unless such an examination is conducted. No fashionable urban development framework, be it smart, sustainable, or resilient, can be effective unless the entire Holocene City paradigm is examined. This means letting go of the very lifestyle that brought us here. This means farewell to the Holocene City. City preparedness for climate What “City Preparedness for Climate Crisis” entails? What makes this issue so relevant today? Essentially, the term denotes the historical concurrence of the Planetary Boundaries that have been disrupted by human activity (Rockström et al., 2009; Castree, 2017) as well as the invalidation of most of the assumptions on which urban life is conceived. Firstly, anthropogenic impacts are generating a “state shift” in the climate conditions that allowed human civilizations to flourish (Barnosky et al., 2012). Second, urban development took for granted a stable integration of city life and its physical environment. This chapter is concerned with how urban living is challenged by the escalating climate crisis and how urban areas can best address these urgent challenges. The question is whether traditional urban life can remain viable in its present form. Taking a broader look at several aspects of the Anthropocene existential threat may shed light on the fate of human cosmopolitanism. It is proposed that the Anthropocene is a geological epoch that follows the Holocene (Crutzen and Stoermer, 2000). The term is defined by the overwhelming impact of human activity on Earth, showing up in geo-stratigraphic records (Zalasiewicz et al., 2010; Zalasiewicz et al., 2019). The starting date of the Anthropocene is in dispute, but a favoured milestone is what is known as the “Great Acceleration”, which refers to the exponential growth of human impacts since the mid-20th century (Steffen, Broadgate et al, 2015; McNeill and Engelke, 2016). The

224  F. J. Carrillo enormous importance of these facts and the observable and potential consequences for the Biosphere have led to the term “Anthropocene” being used to encompass these broader implications for society, the economy, and culture (Castree, 2017; Cohen and Colebrook, 2017; Malabou, 2017; Clark and Szerszynski, 2020), including transformative movements from within specific disciplines such as Sociology (Dietz et al., 2020), Economics (Rees, 2020), Architecture (Turpin, 2013), and Political Science (Hickman et al., 2018; Wainwright and Mann, 2018). This work adopts the wider use of the term insofar it conveys an essentially transdisciplinary “Anthropocenic turn” in contemporary culture (Oldfield et al., 2014; Hamilton et al., 2015; Carrillo, 2019; Dürbeck and Hüpkes, 2020; Krogh, 2020). Environmental impacts resulting from anthropogenic activities threaten to disrupt our way of life in more profound ways and on a larger scale than anything experienced before by mankind. Anthropocene challenges are often equated with climate change or global warming in the public discourse and the media. Throughout this narrative, even human attribution is acknowledged, the tone emphasizes some form of discomfort caused by climate change and weather hazards that can be resolved through greater resilience, improved infrastructure, and new technologies. The terms “global warming” and “climate crisis” have been so diluted and politicized that they are being replaced by the seemingly more compelling “climate crisis” or “climate emergency” (Carrington, 2019; Ripple et al., 2019). As a matter of fact, the Climate Emergency is only one of the nine anthropogenic vectors of Earth System disruption, each posing potential serious threats to the physical fitness of our planet for human habitation. These are (i) climate change; (ii) novel entities (anthropogenic objects, materials, and bio-actants); (iii) stratospheric ozone; (iv) atmospheric aerosol loading (anthropogenic particles in the atmosphere); (v) ocean acidification; (vi) biogeochemical flows (nitrogen and phosphorus cycles); (vii) freshwater use; (viii) change in land use; and (ix) biodiversity loss (extinction rate). To keep humanity within a “safe operating space”, each of these nine “planetary boundaries” requires a delicate balance (Rockström et al., 2009). Therefore, crossing any of these planetary boundaries would pose an existential risk to humanity (Barnosky et al., 2012; Steffen et al., 2015). An Anthropocenic milestone, what I have called the Techno-Bio Inversion (Carrillo, 2022, p. 293), has recently been accomplished. The global biomass has been exceeded for the first time in history by the added mass of human-created materials and objects. The total biomass of all creatures on Earth has fallen to about 1.1 trillion metric tons, which is almost half of the biomass present at the dawn of human civilization (Elhacham et al., 2020). By comparison, the “Technosphere” mass, or human-processed matter – while roughly equivalent to the biomass – is rapidly increasing at an annual rate of 30 billion tons. By 2040, this figure is expected to double to approximately 2.2 trillion tons. Hence, the natural and artificial worlds are being inverted today in terms of both weight and ontology (Han, 2022). There is a limit, however, to the increase of the Technosphere and the decrease of the biosphere due to their physical constraints and mutual relationship (Moore, 2016; Carrillo, 2022, pp. 56–58). Even if Anthropogenic Global Existential Risks have already disrupted the climate conditions that prevailed through the Holocene, the inner urban logic remains undisturbed. Cities have developed in and for the Holocene. The epoch that is closing to an end has been the space of possibilities for urban life. Therefore, it is imperative that the whole concept of the globalized modern city be urgently revised and re-designed at the dawn of Anthropocene, not just structurally and functionally but also from the human perspective of inhabiting Earth and the externalities it generates. Insofar as it relates to the Neolithic village and how it evolved into the megalopolis of today, we need to examine how the transition from nomadic hunters and gatherers to agriculture and

End of the Holocene city  225 human settlements happened. In addition to examining the internal dynamics of urban growth (Smil, 2019), it is also necessary to examine the historical interaction between cities, their surroundings, and their social metabolism. Furthermore, human settlements need to undergo radical transformations to achieve the ability to cope with anthropogenic impacts, and, above all, to reinvent Earth citizenship. A narrow window of opportunity There is a narrow and rapidly closing window of opportunity for a viable transition from the Urban Holocene to the Urban Anthropocene. Several key concepts have been mentioned above, including anthropogenic existential risks, state shift within the biosphere, safe operating spaces, and planetary boundaries. Other concepts such as Earth overshoot (Wackernagel et al., 2002), carrying capacity (Ehrlich, 1982), Earth’s critical zone (Xu and Liu, 2017), and Doomsday clock (Mecklin, 2020) provide several parameters to gauge the narrowing space of opportunity to redesigning the bases of culture to inhabit a more-than-human world. Indeed, aggregate indicators of criticality have been identified, including the rise in global average temperature over preindustrial levels3 (Paris Agreement, 2015). In addition, 350 parts per million (ppm) is the safe threshold for CO2 concentration in the atmosphere.4 Alternatively, “Climate Sensitivity” to the increase in global temperatures due to doubling the concentration of CO2 in the atmosphere prior to industrialization is also critical (Goodwin, 2018). Also, the remaining MCC carbon budget of CO2 emissions to the atmosphere before reaching the 1,170 Gigatons required to maintain global temperature below 1.5°C5 can be used. They are all linked and, at the current rate of deterioration, all lead to a “Climate Breakdown” over the next few decades, which would have disastrous implications for human life (Jonas, 1976; Laybourn-Langton et al., 2019; Taylor, 2019). Despite the overwhelming evidence and scientific consensus surrounding anthropogenic climate change, no unequivocal guidelines are available for future action. We are aiming at a moving target in two different ways. Firstly, our reference constitutes an ever-shifting baseline since there is no “ground zero” for anthropogenic change (Pinnegar and Engelhard, 2008; Thomas, 2019). In addition, the unfamiliar nature and sheer complexity of the Anthropocene (A “Hyperobject”, as Timothy Morton refers to it) preclude us from being able to forecast and understand it based on prior knowledge (Morton, 2013). As we enter the Anthropocene, we experience a discontinuity between the existential conditions that prevailed during the Holocene and those we are about to confront. It is because of this compound situation that an incentive has arisen to go beyond traditional criteria such as the precautionary principle in ethics (Dupuy, 2015, p. 8) or discounting opportunity cost in policymaking (Stern et al., 2006). There is a need for new paradigms in order to cope with the sheer scale and potential effects of urban Anthropocene futures (Farber, 2015). These challenges warrant disruptive approaches. The imaginaries of post-urban development, post-carbon urban futures must urgently be engaged (Stone, 2012, pp. 172–173; Luque-Ayala et al., 2018, Chapter 13; Hajer and Versteeg, 2019, p. 142; Arabindoo, 2020, p. 2311), transcending the dominant paradigms of urban development. A perspective of incremental development constrains all these urban paradigms. Accordingly, a desired state should eventually be reached with sufficient effort and persistence. In fact, two conditions have become increasingly apparent: as the drivers for business as usual prevail for as long as the industrial capitalist economic culture endures, the Holocene economic culture is precipitating its end (Moore, 2016; Snower, 2020). Probably the first and most important common ground among major philosophers of the Anthropocene is that, by definition, even though human activity has produced this complex reality, it cannot be reversed, controlled, or in any way significantly directed by humans. A decentralization of human agency must follow. The

226  F. J. Carrillo traditional rationale behind political economy and social planning is now untenable. Received paradigms of urban development are meaningless under today’s unprecedented circumstances. Furthermore, tipping points, feedback loops, and cascading effects (Klose et al., 2019; Lenton et al., 2019) may prevent a return to a Holocene state for centuries or millennia. We have abandoned the earthly paradise. Human dwellings re-imagined Urban governance is lagging collaboratively creative approaches that are required to enable modern cities to meet the enormous challenges that they are bound to face sooner rather than later. There are several operative subsystems within cities that maintain an extremely fragile equilibrium. If a subsystem is disrupted, it may lead to a sudden and devastating domino effect as evidenced by recent events such as major blackouts, floods, water shortages, earthquakes, etc. Subsequently, all these systems were piled up and reconfigured under the same assumptions pertaining to continual growth and an endless supply. Increasingly, attribution studies (National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine, 2016; Zhai et al., 2018) conclude that catastrophic climate events on urban centres are linked to man-made disruptions of the Earth System. Adapting to extreme resource scarcity and service disruptions will be a constant challenge for Anthropocene cities. Challenges include governance, the rule of law, community life as well as collective well-being among increased urbanization and population density. Since almost every aspect of contemporary urban life is destined to become dysfunctional – or to make evident how dysfunctional they were – human imagination will be put to the test: which way will the city go? If there are any city futures at all, they are neither smart, nor sustainable, nor resilient. In all these paradigms, improvement assumes a caeteris paribus clause: everything else remains the same. Not anymore. Enough warnings have been issued about the lack of preparedness of our current industrialized societies to deal with even the most predictable impacts of climate change. A recent project6 stresses how vulnerability studies “… focus on the processes that shape the consequences of climate variations and changes to identify the conditions that amplify or dampen vulnerability to adverse outcomes” (Leary et al., 2009, p. 4). A report by the Urban Climate Change Research Network7 warns on: “the unique risks that climate change poses to cities through a scientific global data analysis” (UCCRN, 2018). In its report on Adaptation, the Global Commission on Adaptation (2019) acknowledges the challenges faced by urban communities (Chapter 5): “Climate change is already bringing more damage, stresses, and suffering to the world’s c­ ities … without a determined effort to adapt to these impacts, the economic toll and human pain in cities will inevitably climb— sometimes dramatically … As a result, more and more people are in harm’s way all over the world, especially in rapidly growing, under resourced cities in developing countries that have limited capacity to adapt to climate change” (GCA, 2019, p. 39). Urban preparedness is a contentious concept. In view of the slow and limited response, it is debatable whether cities can prepare for Anthropocene scenarios. Can they be? If so, how? Accordingly, if there will be an urban life during the Anthropocene, we have yet to imagine it. City planning needs to reset at several levels. The foundations of city life must be redefined. At different scales of human settlement, what are the minimal viable conditions? How can the provision of basic services be guaranteed for everyone? Which alternatives exist for integrating a city with its surrounding region? To successfully cope with the unpredictable impacts of the state shift on the Biosphere, what forms of governance and community life will be required? Do cities have a role to play in the building of a critical mass of international cooperation required for effective mitigation and adaptation efforts on a global scale?

End of the Holocene city  227 A research agenda Rethinking cities to meet the needs of the Anthropocene is a monumental task only rivalled by the challenge of articulating the global human experience to implement the urgent supranational policies necessary to enact sustainable futures. There is a substantial background from different disciplines to foster a deeper understanding of urban climate mitigation and adaptation. Despite this, the topic of city preparedness for the climate crisis has been addressed only recently as an analytic category (Carrillo and Garner, 2001). Prior publications that fall into the preceding category of the Urban Anthropocene are the first and second UCCRN8 Assessment Reports, Climate Change and Cities (Rosenzweig et al., 2011, 2018); as well as Brian Stone (2012) “The City and the Coming Climate”, a good introduction to global urban heating. Luque-Ayala et al.’s (2018) “Rethinking Urban Transitions” advances post-carbon perspectives transcending dominant urban development and sustainability frameworks. Ashley Dawson’s “Extreme Cities” (2017), convergent with this approach, sets the scenario for the unfolding of human settlements destiny before the Climate Crisis. Douglas Kelbaugh’s “The Urban Fix” (2019) examines aspects of policies and design regarding city thermal management. Zaheer Allam et al. (2020) “Cities and Climate Change” underscores the urgency to redesign urban policies under alternative economic perspectives along similar lines. Joel Cohen’s (2019) essay reviews two of these. Ash Amin and Nigel Thrift’s “Seeing Like a City” provides a particularly sensitive harbinger as it conveys the complex network of agents engaged in the Holocene city, thus providing clues as to how it must be reinvented for the Anthropocene (Amin and Thrift, 2016). Infield et al. (2018) collect contributions on green infrastructure and resilience design. Thorpe (2019) provides a globalized perspective on urban environmentalism. Two special issues stand out among the most relevant journal literature: Urban Studies 57(11), 2020 special issue “Why does everyone think cities can save the planet?” (Angelo and Wachsmuth, 2020) and the 2020 Review of World Planning Practice Vol. 16 special issue on Post-Oil Urbanism, that includes a recollection of the influence of Knowledge-Based Development throughout the Middle East (Alraouf, 2020). Among the individual papers, the assessment of climate planning capabilities from 885 EU cities is noteworthy (Reckien et al., 2018). An in-depth study of Manchester’s adaptation capacities within the context of the Ecocities project (Carter et al., 2015) provides excellent insight into issues related to the adaptation of cities. Wamsler et al. (2013) as well as Giordano et al. (2020) are two other references relevant to planning and adaptation. It is worth mentioning two recent doctoral dissertations that have contributed to the advancement of urban climate planning and adaptation: Anja Wejs from Aalborg (2013) and Marina Rivera from Lund (2016). Regarding city resilience, sustainability, and technological capabilities, the literature is rich and extensive. Nonetheless, most of the abundant literature on urban planning, while considering several environmental issues, does not challenge the terms of Earth habitation, therefore failing to illustrate the functional inadequacies of modern urban design under the Anthropocene. The concept of City Preparedness builds upon Urban Knowledge-Based Development and Knowledge Cities as an urban Adaptive Intelligence approach (Carrillo and Garner, 2021). Adaptive Intelligence is a behaviour model in which intelligence, as regarded by a monistic brain/mind model will tend to adapt towards positive modes of interaction with the environment (Sternberg, 2021). Sternberg characterized Adaptive Intelligence as “something you can learn, and that can change through life. It is constantly updated by your interactions with your environment”.9

228  F. J. Carrillo The “City Preparedness for the Climate Crisis” program of the World Capital Institute10 is predicated on the following premises and is subject to adjustment considering underlying scientific consensus:

• The climate crisis is real, and its causes are human. • As a result of the climate crisis, cities are facing unprecedented challenges to the extent that Holocene urban planning is out of step with the Anthropocene.

• To redesign themselves for the Anthropocene, cities must engage in a rigorous exercise of mitigation, adaptation, and civic engagement.

• Cities are neither the problem nor the solution, but the transition to a viable future will take place on the urban arena.

• Reinventing post-Holocene urban life requires a new economic culture that redraws the terms on relation between humans and Earth.

• City alliances can contribute to the advancement of the international preparedness agenda for the climate crisis.

We have yet to find out both the actual expression of the Anthropocene, and the axis of a viable urban culture. Both are unprecedented. Both have yet to be imagined. Conclusion: Imagination as a last hope The Anthropocene historical landmark – the first of geo-epochal scale in human civilization – signals a discontinuity of imagination: a cumulative record of what we have been able to imagine so far and the existential challenge of envisioning an alternative future. Signals about a crisis of imagination are ubiquitous. In his manifesto against growth and debt, Berardi (2012) exclaims: “this is a crisis of imagination about the future” (p. 8). In his review of climate fiction, Andersen (2019), warns that “we face geophysical changes of drastic proportions that severely challenge our ability to imagine the consequences. This … crisis of imagination can be partly relieved by climate fiction, which may help us comprehend the potential impact … we are facing”. Andersen coins the concept of imagination form to describe “a narrative template that underlies the imagination” (op. cit., p. 2), concluding that “climate fiction can help those cultures across the globe that must now re-imagine themselves as sustainable” (p. 142). John Ashton, in an interview by Laybourn-Langton (2018), rejects a widespread hope in a technofix to the climate crisis: “… it has within it an implicit assertion that this is a future problem, not a current problem. It represents a colossal failure of imagination, maybe in some cases a deliberate failure”. Max Haiven’s (2014) sharp criticism of the industrial capitalist civilization is perhaps the most explicit exposure of the crisis of imagination underlying our contemporary way of living. Paraphrasing Wittgenstein, the limits of our imagination are the limits of our future. The challenge from the Anthropocene is, therefore, as much of timing as it is of imagination. This sounds like what Smith (2010) advocated as “The Revolutionary Imperative”: “We have, almost of all of us, lost the political imagination of a different future” (p. 52). Berardi (2012) sees the European decline not just as a socio-economic crisis “but as a crisis of imagination about the future” (p. 8). Thinking about the future has to be in different terms: “If we are able to come to terms with this postfuturistic condition, we’ll renounce accumulation and growth … If we are not able to do this, we will be doomed to a century of violence, misery, and war” (Berardi, op. cit., pp. 81–82). Finally, Luiselli (2020) moves against a philosophical background where hope in the future is not anymore what it used to be: “Something changed in the world”, she writes.

End of the Holocene city  229 “No one has quite been able to capture what is happening or say why. Perhaps it’s just that we sense an absence of future, because the present has become too overwhelming, so the future has become unimaginable” (p. 103). It seems that the future of civilization lies on our collective imagination capital, in our capacity to re-imagine the post-Holocene city. Landry (2019) urges to harness imagination as an existential handgrip: “There is need to switch the question: not ‘what is the value of imagination and creativity for city development?’ but instead ‘what is the cost of not thinking of imagination and creativity?” (Landry, op. cit., p. 6). Notes 1 This chapter has as a general reference the book “City Preparedness for the Climate Crisis” Edited by Carrillo and Garner (2021). Contributions therein expand the arguments discussed here. Some of the core ideas are summarized in Introduction, pp. 1–13. 2 “An advanced introduction to the Creative City – Highlights and Summary”. (Personal communication). 3 The 2015 Paris Agreement set the goal to holding it “to well below 2°C above pre-industrial levels and pursuing efforts to limit the temperature increase to 1.5°C”: Art. 2, 1.a. (Paris Agreement, 2015). 4 see “The Science” at www.350.org. 5 see “Remaining Carbon Budget” at www.mcc-berlin.net. 6 “Assessment of Impacts and Adaptations to Climate Change”. 7 “The Future We Don’t Want: How Climate Change Could Impact the World’s Greatest Cities”. 8 Urban Climate Change Research Network. 9 Sternberg, R. J. (2020) Rethinking what we mean by intelligence. Phi Delta Kappan, 102(3), pp. 36–41. 10 https://worldcapitalinstitute.org.

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19

Industry 4.0, lean production and sustainability A bibliometric and literature review Cristina Ciliberto, Raffaella Taddeo, Katarzyna Szopik-Depczyńska, Tan Yigitcanlar, and Giuseppe Ioppolo

Introduction Agenda 2030 is an outstanding program which consists of 17 Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), adopted by the United Nations in 2015. It lays the groundwork for the achievement of sustainable development as companies are called to strive. SDG 9 and SDG 17 are focused on improving the implementation of Industry 4.0 through “clean and environmentally sound technologies”. On the other side, a great effort was made in integrating issues such as lean manufacturing, reverse logistics, and sustainability because of the spread of environmental issues (Olsen and Tomlin, 2020). Thus, the emerging technologies enabling the transition to a digitalised era, that are “gathering force [and will] be far reaching, affecting every corner of the factory and the supply chain” (Baur and Wee, 2015), environmental issues and the necessity of quick responses to the customers’ needs, connote a new scenario (Olsen and Tomlin, 2020). With the onset of Industry 4.0 and the implementation of a lean production management model under a sustainable perspective, supply chain could become smart and interconnected environments, flexible and able to respond rapidly to the market changes. Scholars have often aimed at analysing Industry 4.0, lean production, and sustainability separately or matching them in pairs (Amjad et al., 2020; Awan et al., 2021). It is only since 2011 that scientific research on these topics began to face how Industry 4.0, lean production, and sustainability can interrelate. Findings reveal that, despite the increase of works in this direction, there are still not many papers which consider all these three fields simultaneously. Furthermore, it is not clear whether one of them is a propulsive force against the others. Thus, in the effort to fulfil this gap, this chapter aims at investigating their relationships providing a better understanding on the role of Industry 4.0 in a lean and sustainable context. The chapter is structured as follows: theoretical background; research methodology; bibliometric analysis through descriptive statistics of the sample; results and discussion; conclusions, limitations, and future outlook. Theoretical background The literature review introduced in this section aims at understanding what is already known and what is not yet known about the relationships among Industry 4.0, lean production, and sustainability and the role played by Industry 4.0 (Table 19.1).

DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-22

Table 19.1  Literature analysis Authors

Year

Field of study

Object of study

1

Sarkis et al.

2013

Green information systems & technologies

2

Ioppolo et al.

2014

3

Alvarez et al.

2017

Green information system, green technology, supply chain lean management, industrial ecology, Technology Environmental Innovations (TEIs), and Computer Integrated Manufacturing (CIM) sustainability of the machining processes

4

Kamble et al.

2018

Industry 4.0, sustainability and lean manufacturing

5

de Sousa Jabbour et al. Nascimento et al. Farooque et al.

2018

Industry 4.0 and sustainable operations

2018

2019 2019 2019

lean management and big data Implementation of Industry 4.0

11

Ghobakhloo and Fathi Gupta et al. Horváth and Szabó Kamble et al.

Sustainable supply chain management, Industry 4.0 technologies, reverse logistics, and sustainability Circular supply chain management, reverse logistics, and Industry 4.0 Digitisation, lean manufacturing, and Industry 4.0

2020

12

Kościelniak et al.

2019

13

2019

14

Kouhizadeh et al. Saberi et al.

15

Tortorella et al.

2019

Industry 4.0 technologies, lean manufacturing practices, and sustainable organizational performance Sustainable development, augmented reality, and lean management Blockchain technology, sustainability, and supply chain Blockchain technology and sustainable supply chain lean production, Industry 4.0, and lean supply chain management

6

8 9 10

2019

2019

Implementation of sustainability in machine processes to achieve a leaner and cleaner production in digitalised operations Industry 4.0 technologies and their interactions with sustainability and lean production The relationship between Industry 4.0 and sustainability The integration of Industry 4.0 technologies (3D printing) with sustainability Identification of a unified definition of Circular Supply Chain Management (CSCM) The relationships between information technology, manufacturing digitisation, and lean manufacturing The application of big data analytics in the use of lean Six Sigma Driving forces and barriers to the implementation of Industry 4.0 The indirect effects of Industry 4.0 technologies on lean manufacturing practices and sustainable organizational performance The integration of augmented reality and lean culture in the light of a sustainable development management of organizations The relationship among blockchain technology, product deletion, and sustainability The relationship among blockchain technology and sustainable supply chains The moderating effect deriving from the introduction of Industry 4.0 technologies on the relationships between lean Supply Chain Management (LSCM) and supply chain performance improvement in the Brazilian industry (Continued)

Industry 4.0, lean production and sustainability  235

7

The integration of lean management and industrial ecology

Authors

Year

Field of study

Object of study

16

Varela et al.

2019

lean manufacturing, Industry 4.0, and sustainability

17

Asif

2020

18

Bai and Sarkis

2020

19

Chiarini et al.

2020

Quality management models, Industry 4.0, and artificial intelligence Blockchain technology, sustainability, and supply chain transparency Industry 4.0, manufacturing industry, and lean production

20

Dev et al.

2020

21

Ghobakhloo

2020

22

Goienetxea Uriarte et al. Gonçalves Machado et al. MuñozVillamizar et al. Ramirez-Peña et al.

2020

Sustainable reverse supply chain, Industry 4.0, and sustainability Industry 4.0, smart manufacturing, and sustainability lean production, Industry 4.0, and simulation

The integration of lean manufacturing, Industry 4.0, and sustainability The alignment of quality management models with Industry 4.0 technologies The role of transparency in the evaluation process of blockchain technology Identification of Industry 4.0 technologies adopted in Italy and investigation on their aim to achieve specific manufacturing strategies The operational excellence obtained through the integration of Industry 4.0, reverse logistics, and a lean approach sustainability of Industry 4.0

2020

Sustainable manufacturing and Industry 4.0

2020

lean management, lean techniques, Industry 4.0, and efficiency

2020

Industry 4.0, supply chain, green and lean approaches

2020

27

Sutawijaya and Nawangsari Yadav et al.

2020

Industry 4.0, green paradigm, supply chain, and sustainability Sustainable supply chain and Industry 4.0

28

Kolberg et al.

2015

lean automation and Industry 4.0

29

Jayaram

2016

lean Six Sigma, Industry 4.0, and IoT

23 24 25 26

The integration of lean management and simulation as one of the main technologies of Industry 4.0 Impacts of sustainable manufacturing research on Industry 4.0 and the links between Industry 4.0 and sustainable manufacturing The integration of existing approaches in lean thinking, Industry 4.0, and mathematical optimisation Integration of Industry 4.0 technologies with the most significant supply chain paradigms (lean, agile, resilience, and green) in the shipbuilding sector Impacts of Industry 4.0 on green supply chain in the event management sector The development of a framework able to integrate sustainability and Industry 4.0 The integration of lean production and its methods with Industry 4.0 technologies The integration of lean Six Sigma and IoT in Green supply chain management (Continued)

236  C. Ciliberto, R. Taddeo, K. Szopik-Depczyńska et al.

Table 19.1  (Continued)

Table 19.1  (Continued) Authors

Year

Field of study

Object of study

30

Karre et al.

2017

The presentation of the leanLab at Graz University of Technology

31 32

Leyh et al. Mrugalska and Wyrwicka Trstenjak and Cosic Wagner et al.

2017 2017

Learning Factory, Industry 4.0, lean manufacturing, and hands-on education Industry 4.0 and lean production Industry 4.0, lean automation, and lean production

33 34

2017 2017 2017

38

Duarte and Cruz-Machado Dombrowski et al. Duarte and Cruz-Machado Enke et al.

39

Araújo et al.

2018

40

Tortorella et al.

2018

41

Carvalho et al.

2018

Industry 4.0, CPS, and sustainable manufacturing

42 43

Mayr et al. Phuong and Guidat

2018 2018

44

Duarte et al.

2019

lean management, Industry 4.0, CPS, and IoT sustainability, sustainable value stream mapping, lean manufacturing, big data, radiofrequency identification Industry 4.0, business model, canvas, and lean/ green management

35 36 37

2017 2018 2018

Industry 4.0, supply chain management, and lean/ green paradigm Industry 4.0, lean management, and learning factory Automation, Industry 4.0, production efficiency, and lean production Industry 4.0, lean and operational performance improvement

The presentation of the “product planning software” The integration of lean production systems and Industry 4.0 Investigation whether Industry 4.0 can support the implementation of the lean and green supply chain Investigation on interdependencies between Industry 4.0 and lean production systems The integration of lean and green supply chain characteristics in Industry 4.0 environment Identification of the required competencies to integrate Industry 4.0 and lean management Identification of technological improvements in lean company processes The moderating effect of Industry 4.0 on the relationship between lean production and operational performance improvement within a developing economy of Brazil Identification of the principal forms of collaboration between Industry 4.0 and sustainability The integration between Industry 4.0 and lean management sustainability of VSM applied to processes of an apparel company Integration of lean/green management with Industry 4.0 (Continued)

Industry 4.0, lean production and sustainability  237

Industry 4.0, process planning, and lean manufacturing Cyber physical production system, connected industry, Industry 4.0, lean production Industry 4.0, supply chain management, and lean/ green paradigms Industry 4.0 and lean production systems

The integration of Industry 4.0 with lean production Identification of how lean production and Industry 4.0 coexist

Authors

Year

Field of study

Object of study

45

Saetta et al.

2019

Supply chain management and Industry 4.0

46

Müller

2019

47

Edirisuriya et al.

2019

48

Manavalan and Jayakrishna Surajit and Telukdarie

2019

Industry 4.0, Industrial IoT, lean management, and quality management Green concepts, Industry 4.0, lean management, logistics, and operational performance Sustainable supply chain, Industry 4.0, and IOT

Investigation on how technological innovations introduced achieve economic, social, and environmental sustainability and influence production process in the foundry sector Identification of the potentials on quality management which can be improved with the use of Industry 4.0 technologies Examination of lean techniques and green concepts to enhance the operational performance of logistics functions Integration of Industry 4.0 and sustainability

50

Latinovic et al.

2020

51

Bittencourt et al.

2019

49

2019

Business process management, green manufacturing, Industry 4.0, optimisation, remanufacturing, and reverse logistics Intelligence system and Industry 4.0 lean production, lean thinking, Industry 4.0, smart factory, and fourth Industrial Revolution

The impact of Industry 4.0 on green operations and the Institutional pressures The creation of an intelligent system in the cigarette industry to reduce the machine’s failure time The role of lean production in the ongoing 4th Industrial Revolution

Note: Conference papers are listed in italics from 28 to 51; “Field of study” concerns the general topic of the paper, identified through keywords; “Object of study” deals with the results and insights after reading the full paper). In addition, it is important to outline again that, despite the cut-off point of the current review is intended to be 2011, year of birth of Industry 4.0, only since 2013 works that consider simultaneously Industry 4.0, Lean Production and Sustainability are emerged.

238  C. Ciliberto, R. Taddeo, K. Szopik-Depczyńska et al.

Table 19.1  (Continued)

Industry 4.0, lean production and sustainability  239 Industry 4.0 and a brief overview on the emerging technologies

The term Industry 4.0 was coined at the Hannover Fair, in 2011, to indicate the Fourth Industrial Revolution, a.k.a. Industry 4.0 (Kolberg and Zühlke, 2015), featured by an increasing digitalisation of the entire supply chain (Table 19.2). In this regard, it is crucial to understand both how new technologies work, how they interact together, and what technologies belong to Industry 4.0 (Dombrowski et al., 2017; Wagner et al., 2017; De Sousa Jabbour et al., 2018a; Horváth and Szabó, 2019). Indeed, it is argued that there is not a universal definition of Industry 4.0 (Leyh et al., 2017). This could be probably because the term “industry” incorporates several engineering and business disciplines, not only manufacturing (Ortt et al., 2020). The paradigm of Industry 4.0 relies on advanced technological innovations that link their physical and virtual side and is defined as horizontal, end-to-end, or vertical depending on the interplay among machines, humans, or among humans and machines (Kamble et al., 2018; Nascimento et al., 2018). Industry 4.0 technologies help manufacturing industries to improve work environment, employee morale, and product quality (Trstenjak and Cosic, 2017). Furthermore, focusing on customers’ needs and customised products may determine an improvement on productivity and a reduction of lead time (Jayaram, 2016; Duarte and Cruz-Machado, 2017; Müller, 2019; ­Latinovic et al., 2020). Mrugalska and Wyrwicka (2017) add emerging technology, as a competitive strategy, optimise value chain, improve quality standards, and increase productivity (Gupta et al., 2019; Asif, 2020). Industry 4.0 and lean production

Lean production is a management model and a strategic factor in the improvement of production processes based on the principles presented by the Toyota production System. lean production model adopts practices such as the Kanban, a type of scheduling system, and just-in-time, to minimise waste and improve the performance of a company (Duarte and Cruz-Machado, 2018). Chiarini et al. (2020) add that lean production acts as an enabler of Industry 4.0 technologies, only if, previous defects in process flows are eliminated. Industry 4.0 is a complementary environment to lean production so that they can support and enhance each other (Kamble et al., 2018). In this regard, Leyh et al. (2017) assuming that both the emerging technologies and lean production have common goals,that is, the reduction of the cost per unit produced and the improvement of communication in three relationships: man-man, machine-man and, above all, machine-machine for the further development and appropriate implementation of Industry 4.0. Examples of the beneficial implementation of system automatisation are shown by lean digital tools such as product planning softwares (Trstenjak and Cosic, 2017), intelligent and automated systems (Araújo et al., 2018), and technological tools in the foundry sector (Saetta and Caldarelli, 2020). Empirical evidence on the positive effects of this integration is offered through the assessment of the operational performance improvement with Ordinary Least Squares regression method (Tortorella et al., 2018) and a framework in which lean production techniques are combined through a business model Canvas for digital start-ups (Duarte et al., 2019). This is also confirmed assuming emerging technologies as a moderating variable with direct effects on lean supply chain performances (Tortorella et al., 2019).

Industry 4.0 technologies

Examples

Cyber-physical systems (CPS)

The main goal is to monitor physical Automated systems, control systems while creating a virtual copy. systems of processes and These technologies aim at detecting and products in real time, pickeliminating potential “physical waste” in to-light systems, intelligent production processes. logistics, intelligent warehousing, automated guided vehicles (AGV), digital supply chain, artificial intelligence (AI) Internet, smart factory These technologies provide online storage services for all applications, programs, and data in a virtual server to sustainably achieve the shortest lead time, best quality and value, and highest customer delight at the lowest cost.

Cloud computing (CC)

Internet of service (IoS)

Internet

Purpose of Industry 4.0 technologies in the integration of the three topics (Industry 4.0, lean production, and sustainability)

Internet of services derives from the convergence of two concepts: Web 2.0 and SOA – service-oriented architecture. Its aim is to use software applications which need internet to work. It also improves interactivity, social networks, tagging and web services, improve product customization, and reduce waste.

References

Kamble et al., 2018; de Sousa Jabbour et al., 2018; Farooque et al., 2019; Ghobakhloo and Fathi, 2019; Horváth and Szabó, 2019; Kamble et al., 2020; Varela et al., 2019; Asif, 2020; Chiarini et al., 2020; Ghobakhloo, 2020; Mrugalska and Wyrwicka, 2017; Trstenjak and Cosic, 2017; Wagner et al., 2017; Dombrowski et al., 2017; Carvalho et al., 2018; Mayr et al., 2018; Edirisuriya et al., 2019. Sarkis et al., 2013; Kamble et al., 2018; de Sousa Jabbour et al., 2018; Farooque et al., 2019; Kamble et al., 2020, Varela et al., 2019; Asif, 2020; Chiarini et al., 2020; Ghobakhloo, 2020; Gonçalves Machado et al., 2020; Ramirez-Peña et al., 2020, Mrugalska and Wyrwicka, 2017; Trstenjak and Cosic, 2017; Wagner et al., 2017; Dombrowski et al., 2017; Mayr et al., 2018; Edirisuriya et al., 2019; Surajit and Telukdarie, 2019. Ghobakhloo and Fathi 2019; Ghobakhloo, 2020.

(Continued)

240  C. Ciliberto, R. Taddeo, K. Szopik-Depczyńska et al.

Table 19.2  Overview of Industry 4.0 emerging technologies

Table 19.2  (Continued) Examples

Purpose of Industry 4.0 technologies in the integration of the three topics (Industry 4.0, lean production, and sustainability)

References

Internet of things (IoT)

RFID, sensors, barcodes, smartphones, intelligent and autonomous machines, wearable computing systems, advanced predictive analytics, machine-human collaboration, machine to machine communication, wireless technologies, IO-link, artificial intelligence (AI)

Information network of physical objects (sensors, machines, cars, buildings, and other items) enables the collection and exchange of data, allowing interaction and cooperation of these objects. This kind of technology helps to increase quality and safety in organizations and can substantially improve energy efficiency, thereby reducing energy costs.

Additive manufacturing (AM)

3D printer; augmented reality (AR), virtual reality (VR)

Big data analytics (BDA)

Predictive analytics

This technology consists of a process which joins materials to make objects from 3D model data. The purpose is achieving great potential for mass customisation. It can improve resource efficiency, enable closed-loop material flows, and leverage on product and process design. Through the collection and analysis of large amount of available data, these technologies capture and report crucial insights about data processed in high volume and great variety. They can achieve higher environmental performances through waste minimisation, reduction of energy consumption, and resource depletion.

Kamble et al., 2018; de Sousa Jabbour et al., 2018; Farooque et al., 2019; Horváth and Szabó, 2019; Kamble et al., 2020; Varela et al., 2019; Asif, 2020; Chiarini et al., 2020; Ghobakhloo, 2020; Gonçalves Machado et al., 2020; Ramirez-Peña et al., 2020; Sutawijaya and Nawangsari, 2020; Mrugalska and Wyrwicka, 2017; Trstenjak and Cosic, 2017; Wagner et al., 2017; Dombrowski et al., 2017; Carvalho et al., 2018; Phuong and Guidat, 2018; Edirisuriya et al., 2019; Manavalan and Jayakrishna, 2019; Surajit and Telukdarie, 2019; Latinovic et al., 2020. Kamble et al., 2018; de Sousa Jabbour et al., 2018; Nascimento et al., 2018; Farooque et al., 2019; Ghobakhloo and Fathi, 2019; Horváth and Szabó, 2019; Kamble et al., 2020; Varela et al., 2019; Asif, 2020; Chiarini et al., 2020; Dev et al., 2020; Ghobakhloo, 2020; Gonçalves Machado et al., 2020; Ramirez-Peña et al., 2020; Mayr et al., 2018. Kamble et al., 2018; Farooque et al., 2019; Ghobakhloo and Fathi, 2019; Gupta et al., 2019; Horváth and Szabó, 2019; Kamble et al., 2020; Asif, 2020; Chiarini et al., 2020; Ghobakhloo, 2020; Gonçalves Machado et al., 2020; Ramirez-Peña et al., 2020; Wagner et al., 2017; Dombrowski et al., 2017; Mayr et al., 2018; Phuong and Guidat, 2018; Edirisuriya et al., 2019; Manavalan and Jayakrishna, 2019; Surajit and Telukdarie, 2019. (Continued)

Industry 4.0, lean production and sustainability  241

Industry 4.0 technologies

Industry 4.0 technologies

Examples

Purpose of Industry 4.0 technologies in the integration of the three topics (Industry 4.0, lean production, and sustainability)

References

Simulation and prototype

IP communication protocol, augmented reality (AR), virtual reality (VR), digital twins (DT)

Kamble et al., 2018; Farooque et al., 2019; Kamble et al., 2020; Kościelniak et al., 2019; Asif, 2020; Chiarini et al., 2020; Ghobakhloo, 2020; Goienetxea Uriarte et al., 2020; Gonçalves Machado et al., 2020; Ramirez-Peña et al., 2020; Mrugalska and Wyrwicka, 2017; Wagner et al., 2017; Dombrowski et al., 2017; Mayr et al., 2018; Edirisuriya et al., 2019.

Robotic systems (RS)

Robots, collaborative robots, smart robots

Cyber security systems (CSS)

Internet

These technologies mirror the physical world data such as machines, products, and humans in a virtual world, aiming for simplification and affordability of the design, creation, testing, and live operation of the systems. One of the main purposes of these technologies, recognised in literature, concerns elimination of waste and reduction of production losses. Machinery and equipment that automate operational processes, containing also collaborative robotics, which allows humans and machines to operate in a shared learning environment play a crucial positive economic and environmental effect. Robotic systems reduce lead time, enhance productivity, improve recycling, reduce carbon footprint, and make manufacturing more sustainable. These technologies are security risk assessment tools with the aim of defending computers, servers, mobile devices, electronic systems, networks, and data from malicious attacks. Such tools can improve energy profitability performance and secure and speed up processes.

Kamble et al., 2018; Horváth and Szabó, 2019; Kamble et al., 2020; Varela et al., 2019; Asif, 2020; Chiarini et al., 2020; Gonçalves Machado et al., 2020; Ramirez-Peña et al., 2020; Edirisuriya et al., 2019.

Kamble et al., 2018; Farooque et al., 2019; Kamble et al., 2020; Gonçalves Machado et al., 2020; Ramirez-Peña et al., 2020.

(Continued)

242  C. Ciliberto, R. Taddeo, K. Szopik-Depczyńska et al.

Table 19.2  (Continued)

Table 19.2  (Continued) Examples

Purpose of Industry 4.0 technologies in the integration of the three topics (Industry 4.0, lean production, and sustainability)

References

Blockchain (BC)

Internet

Ghobakhloo and Fathi, 2019; Kouhizadeh et al., 2019; Saberi et al., 2019; Bai and Sarkis, 2020.

Artificial intelligence (AI) and machine learning (ML)

Internet

It consists of a database that creates a distributed digital ledger of transactions, including timestamps of blocks maintained by every participating node. It can provide benefits to larger manufacturers looking to improve their lean operations and reduce waste. It helps risk reduction thanks to a complete tracking of every single activity which is constantly verifiable and controllable. These technologies are able to analyse specific data and accurately predict the expected output, thus eliminating exorbitant material use or waste. Through its deep predictive capabilities and intelligent grid systems AI and ML can manage the demand and supply of renewable energy, optimise efficiency, cut costs, and contribute to the reduction of carbon pollution.

Asif, 2020; Mayr et al., 2018.

Note: In this Table is also highlighted the purpose of technologies in the integration of the three topics, Industry 4.0, Lean Production, and Sustainability.

Industry 4.0, lean production and sustainability  243

Industry 4.0 technologies

244  C. Ciliberto, R. Taddeo, K. Szopik-Depczyńska et al. Industry 4.0 and sustainability

Sustainability has become paramount in smart manufacturing (Kamble et al., 2020). The European Union encourages the transition towards sustainability with measures to reduce the consumption of raw materials, reduce waste, and increase the reuse of resources. This would make our economy more sustainable and increase innovation and sustainable development through Sustainability of operations. Kirchherr et al. (2017) argued this would be the right path to follow in order to decrease depletion of resources, energy consumption, create value added, closedloop supply chain and reduce waste. Thus, such a more sustainable transition in supply chain may help companies to develop products and processes aligned with stakeholders’ expectations (Nascimento et al., 2018). Several studies confirm the implementation of new technologies in a sustainable perspective can lead firms towards greener operations, better operational performances and significant economic and environmentally friendly advantages (Surajit and Telukdarie, 2018; De Sousa ­Jabbour et al., 2018a; Nascimento et al., 2018; Farooque et al., 2019; Manavalan and ­Jayakrishna, 2019; Dev et al., 2020; Yadav et al., 2020). In support of this, Ghobakhloo (2020) remarks that the most direct outcomes deriving from the interaction of Industry 4.0 and sustainability are related to production efficiency and lay the groundwork for business model innovation. Kamble et al. (2020) and Varela et al. (2019) empirically demonstrate that the implementation of the emerging technologies in manufacturing companies is strongly related to sustainable organisational performances. It is also highlighted that implementation of new technologies in industrial processes is different between small or medium-sized companies and bigger ones. The former consider one of the most powerful drivers for integration cost saving (Ioppolo et al., 2014; Horváth and Szabó, 2019), whereas for the latter customers’ targets, consisting in environmental safeguards and, in a responsible environmental protection, are crucial. Industry 4.0, lean production and sustainability

Matching these three concepts on the basis of the reviewed literature, it can be affirmed these topics holistically accomplish their common goal of improving production processes, quality, design, flexibility, product customisation, transparency, interoperability, reduction of complexity, waste, lead time, costs and increase in efficiency, and productivity (Peralta Álvarez et al., 2017; Kamble et al., 2020; Ramirez-Peña et al., 2020; Sutawijaya and Nawangsari, 2020). Duarte and Cruz-Machado (2017) add that lean and sustainable approaches jointly aspire to improve Industry 4.0 features such as flexibility, transparency, optimisation of company’s functions, and make the corporate strategy more suitable to keep up with competitiveness in the global market. Their integration, despite costly, can strongly support internal processes such as just-in-time, supplier relationship management, customer relationship management, and enhance environmental sustainability (Ghobakhloo and Fathi, 2019). Ioppolo et al. (2014) assume that lean production is not a mere set of tools but, a “modus operandi and a mindset” that has to be implemented into production systems in order to achieve sustainability. The jointly implementation of lean production techniques and emerging technologies results in the creation of a system which works as a “catalyst” to facilitate environmental sustainability (Edirisuriya et al., 2018). Industry 4.0, lean production, and sustainability were found to share the same goals because they are focused on the improvement of quality and the satisfaction of consumer’s needs even though they present different operative approaches (Farooque et al., 2019; Ghobakhloo, 2020).

Industry 4.0, lean production and sustainability  245 Lean production aims at the elimination of waste, satisfaction of customer needs, generation of value, striving for perfection, ensuring reliability at all phases of production, and establishing continuous improvement (Kaizen) in all process flows (Gonçalves Machado et al., 2020). Industry 4.0 reaches these goals by improving performance processes through an integrated use of smart technologies (Asif, 2020). sustainability achieves the same objectives focusing on the reduction of resource depletion, energy consumption, and waste stream valorisation (Nascimento et al., 2018). According to Porter, strategy “is about being different” and “the essence of strategy is choosing a unique and valuable position rooted in systems of activities that are much more difficult to match.” In this perspective, sustainability has to be intended as a strategy which adopts circular economy as a precondition for sustainable manufacturing through the implementation of the ten key circular economy principles (Geissdoerfer et al., 2017). In this scenario, Industry 4.0 is an integrated environment of smart technologies which has the capability to act as a facilitator towards the achievement of sustainable goals tracking products post-consumption to recover components (Wagner et al., 2017; De Sousa Jabbour et al., 2018b; Gonçalves Machado et al., 2020). Furthermore, Industry 4.0 technologies with the implementation of Reverse Logistics and eco-innovation become a propulsive force of this new paradigm and a key element to shift companies towards a cutting edge and sustainable business model (Nascimento et al., 2018; Farooque et al., 2019; Kościelniak et al., 2020; Dev et al., 2020; Ghobakhloo, 2020). Methodology The study is developed following a literature review based on the five-step methodology (Briner and Denyer, 2012) presented in Figure 19.1.

• Phase 1: Identification. The objective of the research, keywords, research databases, and

cover period are defined. The keyword strings used are: (“Industry 4.0” OR “Smart manufacturing”) AND (“lean production” OR “lean manufacturing” OR “lean management”) AND (“sustainability”). Google Scholar, Science Direct, Scopus, Emerald Insight, and Web of Science are utilised to carry out the analysis. Industry 4.0 is a topic which officially came on stage in 2011 at the Hannover Fair (Chiarini et al., 2020). For this reason, it could be assumed that the year 2011 would be the natural cut-off point of the current literature review. • Phase 2: Literature search. In this phase, resources are collected. • Phase 3: Evaluation of the research. The review performed aims to select a set of resources that consider simultaneously the relationships among Industry 4.0, lean production, and sustainability. Inclusion and exclusion criteria were applied. First, only documents written in English were considered, peer-reviewed journal articles, literature reviews, and conference papers aligned with the aim of the analysis and pertaining only to the Business and Management fields of research. Book chapters, books, and doctoral theses were excluded. The total number of papers found was 276. All these resources were screened following a two-step screening process: (a) by titles and keywords; (b) by abstract and full paper. In the first phase, selected articles were 253. In the second step, the number of selected papers dropped to 193. Only those papers more adherent to the specific purpose of the research, focused on the simultaneous investigation of relationships among Industry 4.0, lean production, and sustainability and on the role of Industry 4.0 in this integration were considered. Duplicates were excluded. As a result, the final number of records that passed the screening process dropped to 51 (27 scientific articles and 24 conference papers).

246  C. Ciliberto, R. Taddeo, K. Szopik-Depczyńska et al.

Figure 19.1  Research methodology. Source: Derived from Briner and Denyer (2012).

Industry 4.0, lean production and sustainability  247

Figure 19.1  (Continued)

• Phase 4: Interpretation. The collected studies were critically appraised to achieve research objective and research gaps highlighted.

• In Phase 5, results were presented and discussed. A conceptual framework that interrelates Industry 4.0, lean production, and sustainability in its triple dimension (environmental, social, and economic) was proposed. Conclusions and future outlooks were elaborated.

Bibliometric analysis through descriptive statistics of the sample Trend of publications

It is interesting to note that the first publication in lean production dates back to the early 90s, whereas the environmental aspects were considered from the early years of their manifestation (1994), and Industry 4.0 was investigated from its occurrence in 2011 (Chiarini et al., 2020). In literature, the topic of the relationships among Industry 4.0, lean production, and sustainability is quite new and debated, and, as emerged in the research, studies are mainly concentrated between 2017 and 2020. Furthermore, it is true that 2011 is assumed as the cut-off point of the current literature review, but as findings reveal, only since 2013 that first studies investigated upon the proposed research topic (Figure 19.2). Contributions from journals, by country and by type of papers

The Excel tool was used to classify journals. Journal of Cleaner production has the highest number of publications in the selected period (2011–2020), with six papers, followed respectively by International Journal of production Research with five publications and sustainability with three ones. This means that Industry 4.0 issues related to lean production and sustainability are discussed in different journals with a broad dissemination (Figure 19.3). As shown in Figure 19.4, distribution of publications is quite widely spread in the world considering the relevance and the novelty of the topic. In Figure 19.5, the 51 selected papers are divided according to the type of study, of which 24 studies are classified as conference papers. They are followed by 11 literature reviews,

248  C. Ciliberto, R. Taddeo, K. Szopik-Depczyńska et al.

Figure 19.2 Trend of publications. Authors are listed on the horizontal axis and years of their publication on the vertical axis.

14 research papers, 1 case study, and 1 special issue. This shows that the interest for this topic is growing up and the large number of conference papers confirms this trend. Keywords statistics

Figure 19.6 shows the most widespread keywords in the 51 scientific articles. “Industry 4.0/ Smart Manufacturing” was the most frequently used keyword (46%), followed by “lean production/­lean manufacturing/lean management” (35%) and “sustainability” (19%). Furthermore, in Figure 19.7, it is meaningful to observe that in the reviewed literature the keyword “Industry 4.0” is always present. On the other hand, keywords are matched together in order to understand both their relationships and whether Industry 4.0 is a dominant topic

Industry 4.0, lean production and sustainability  249

Figure 19.3  Journals’ concentration.

compared to the others. What emerged is that leading integrations are between Industry 4.0 and lean production (50%) as well as between Industry 4.0 and sustainability (33%). The combination among keywords Industry 4.0 and lean production and sustainability do not reach high value (17%) and it confirms the existing gap on this topic. The persistent presence of Industry 4.0 in these combinations means new technologies play a significant role in this trilateral relationship, as it is confirmed by relevant literature ­(Peralta Álvarez et al., 2017; Trstenjak and Cosic, 2017; Araújo et al., 2018; Kamble et al., 2018; ­Tortorella et al., 2018; Duarte et al., 2019; Chiarini et al., 2020; Ghobakhloo and Fathi, 2019; Saetta and Caldarelli, 2020). Hence, a novel trend in literature that considers these three topics in an integrated way is traced.

Figure 19.4  Geographic concentration (countries of first authors are considered).

250  C. Ciliberto, R. Taddeo, K. Szopik-Depczyńska et al.

Figure 19.5  Types of studies reviewed.

Results and discussion Descriptive statistics and literature review highlight that out of 51 examined scientific articles, only 11 effectively tackle the topic of the relationships among Industry 4.0, lean production, and sustainability effectively. Furthermore, findings reveal that the integrated application of lean

Figure 19.6  Keywords’ trend.

Industry 4.0, lean production and sustainability  251

Figure 19.7  Keywords match.

production and Industry 4.0 in a sustainable perspective is also an effective business strategy to reach higher levels of operational excellence. This also shows a lack of research in this topic. In this sense, Pagliosa et al. (2021) also declared the necessity for further investigation upon these relationships. These three topics, if applied simultaneously, as suggested by the trend identified in this research, lead to an effective achievement of sustainable goals, both economic, environmental, social, and operational. This is confirmed by Sarkis et al. (2013) who affirmed that lean manufacturing and Industry 4.0 technologies may reduce worldwide data centre of energy dissipation, improve operational performances, safety in industrial processes, and reduce costs. The integration may also contribute to the maximisation of power usage efficiency, improvement of

252  C. Ciliberto, R. Taddeo, K. Szopik-Depczyńska et al. recycling efforts, reduction of carbon and gas emissions, minimisation of water usage, reduction of wastes, lead time, and enhancement of customisation through eco-innovation (MaldonadoGuzmán et al., 2021). In this sense, Industry 4.0 represents a smart integrated environment where the adoption of lean production methodologies can give rise to a sustainable transition as claimed in UN Agenda 2030. Awan et al. (2021) argued such an implementation of a digitalised, lean, and closed-loop production system can lead companies towards the development of a more circular and sustainable business model. Cyber-physical systems with in real-time monitorisation help to reduce economic and environmental impacts, increase worker’s safety and autonomy, production process productivity, quality, and competitive edge. Smart Manufacturing with lean production is a new paradigm of in-real-time technologies contributing to effective decision-making processes and sustainable growth (De Sousa Jabbour et al., 2018b). Indeed, drawbacks are to be highlighted. The debate on the emerging technologies connected to lean production and sustainability could also lead to unfavourable results. It is noteworthy an ongoing discussion on the potential negative effects of lean models in sustainable logistics (Geissdoerfer et al., 2017) and the impact of cloud computing models on energy consumption (Olsen and Tomlin, 2020) which cannot be glossed over. Although Industry 4.0 technologies adoption in companies has taken on greater importance and visibility, technology implications on sustainability objectives need to be cautiously evaluated (Bai and Sarkis, 2020) for its higher resource consumption, global warming, general environmental degradation, and higher environmental pollution. To try to overcome these negative features, a conceptual framework integrating the three main topics, in an eco-innovative direction, and the ten Circular Economy’s key principles is elaborated (Figure 19.8). The proposed framework outlines the role of Industry 4.0 as an enabling environment of cyber-physical connected elements for the integration of production processes and, the importance of lean methodologies in making manufacturing systems more agile, cost-effective, and environmental friendly (Kamble et al., 2018; Ghobakhloo et al., 2021). Emerging technologies, through eco-innovation, may provide the groundwork for the adoption of lean methodologies and sustainability in its triple dimension through the 10 R’s framework, which is considered a new sustainability paradigm (Maldonado-Guzmán et al., 2021). In the proposed framework, all three pillars of sustainability are addressed. From an economic point of view, this interaction may lead to an increase of profits, efficiency, flexibility, and competitiveness; increase of turnover, and creation of new business models; improvement of market share of the products, supply chains, and security and a decrease of operational costs and massive savings for companies (De Sousa Jabbour et al., 2018a). Besides, the adoption of such an integrated system would also imply environmental effects such as a decrease of industrial waste, energy consumption of non-renewal energy sources; increase of production of renewal energy; increase of circular economy practices comprising collaborations with partners that follow good environmental ones; decrease of resources consumption, global warming, climate changes, and energy requirements; increase of renewable resources ­(Kirchherr et al., 2017). In addition, social impacts such as an improvement of working conditions a decrease of working accidents and an increase of participation of employees in decision-making processes can be recognised (De Sousa Jabbour et al., 2018b). Finally, operational effects in companies are identified, such as improvement of performance processes and management performance; improvement of the Overall Equipment Effectiveness; reduction of lead time and delivery time; improvement of quality; pursuit of perfection, value

Industry 4.0, lean production and sustainability  253

Figure 19.8 The conceptual framework of the integration among Industry 4.0, lean production, and sustainability. The 10 Rs’ principles consist of ten stages, namely refuse; rethink; reduce; reuse; repair; refurbish; remanufacture; repurpose; recycle; recover and it is applied to lean methods in an Industry 4.0 environment. Acronyms of underpinning technologies are explained in ­Table 19.2. Examples of lean techniques mentioned are: Just-in-Time, Kanban, Jidoka, ­Andon, Kaizen, Poka Joke, lean six Sigma, 5 S methodology, total quality management, target costing, value stream mapping, takt time, Hejiunka, standardisation, single minute exchange of dies.

generation, satisfaction of customer’s needs, continuous improvement and guarantee of reliability (Duarte and Cruz-Machado, 2017). Following these recommendations, managers may be helped to simplify production processes, decision-makers may elaborate more straightforward rules for sustainable growth and scholars may develop further research rethinking the role of new technologies, thought in an eco-innovative way and in connection with lean production and sustainability (Kamble et al., 2020; Ghobakhloo et al., 2021). Thus, Industry 4.0 has the potential to enhance global manufacturing and meet the rising human needs without hurting the environment if, eco-innovation and eco-design of products and technologies will be taken into account. Conclusion, limitations, and future research The chapter investigates the relationships among Industry 4.0, lean production, and sustainability through a descriptive statistical analysis and a literature review. It can be affirmed that Industry 4.0 has launched a lean and sustainable system, where Industry 4.0 technologies become a leading force and a vector with the application of lean production methodologies in a

254  C. Ciliberto, R. Taddeo, K. Szopik-Depczyńska et al. sustainable perspective. Industry 4.0 can be viewed as a productive formula which introduces innovation and represents the new bridge between human and machine interactions; lean Production methodologies as a productive model, and sustainability as a productive strategy. Therefore, from a theoretical point of view, this study contributes to strengthening the body of knowledge on Industry 4.0 technologies, lean production methodologies, and sustainability by addressing their main characteristics and applications, identifying similarities and differences among them and the potentials for a shared and integrated development. In this perspective, the proposed framework can be considered a preliminary step to contribute to a better understanding of the topic. This smart structure may provide the basis for a lean system that gives rise to sustainable outcomes. This framework will guide practitioners and policymakers towards a sustainable environmental and technological transition developing guidelines for the implementation of Industry 4.0 in a lean and sustainable perspective. The proposed framework may also push academicians to carry out exploratory research in order to measure the impacts of Industry 4.0 technologies, lean production methodologies, and sustainability on production processes’ performances and financial statements. In this sense, Multi-criteria decision-making techniques such as analytical hierarchical process (AHP), analytic network process (ANP), preference ranking organisation method for enrichment evaluation (PROMETHEE), technique for order of preference by similarity to ideal solution (TOPSIS) method may be used in future research to analyse relationships among Industry 4.0, lean production and sustainability. The study also contains practical implications. Indeed, it suggests how a simultaneous implementation results in many economic, social, environmental, and operational consequences. This implies that practitioners will be pushed to integrate these topics to have a better industrial control on the processes, increase agility of organisations, make in-real-time decisions, save money, offer highly customised products in shorter lead times and reduce waste. Furthermore, managers should strive to achieve a higher environmental respect with an efficient use of available resources and a reduction of energy consumption. Therefore, they should not get unmotivated in adopting Industry 4.0 technologies. Indeed, they should work hard to reach a smarter and more sustainable system in their companies through the simultaneous implementation of emerging technologies, lean production methodologies, and sustainability, to be intended as a competitive business strategy. In recent years, the concept of Industry 4.0 has expanded beyond the industry focus and became an overall concept for our cities journey to become smarter (Regona et al., 2022a). Today, we experience the expansion of Industry 4.0 to give birth to the notion of City 4.0 (Regona et al., 2022b), where it can be defined as a city that utilises technological developments and digitalisation to transform local public services and local economy to produce sustainable and desired urban, environmental, and societal outcomes for all (Yigitcanlar et al., 2022). Our prospective research will investigate this notion. Conflict of interest The authors of this chapter declare no competing interests. References Amjad, M. S., Rafique, M. Z., Hussain, S., Khan, M. A. (2020), “A new vision of LARG manufacturing – a trail towards Industry 4.0”, CIRP Journal of Manufacturing Science and Technology, Vol. 31, No. 1.

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256  C. Ciliberto, R. Taddeo, K. Szopik-Depczyńska et al. Enke, J., Glass, R., Kreß, A., Hambach, J., Tisch, M., Metternich, J. (2018), “Industrie 4.0 – competencies for a modern production system: A curriculum for learning factories”, in Mourtzis, D., Chryssolouris, G. (Eds.), Advanced Engineering Education & Training for Manufacturing Innovation, 8th CIRP Sponsored Conference on Learning Factories, Procedia Manufacturing, Vol. 23, pp. 267–272. Farooque, M., Zhang, A., Thürer, M., Qu, T., Huisingh, D. (2019), “Circular supply chain management: A definition and structured literature review”, Journal of Cleaner production, Vol. 228, pp. 882–900. Geissdoerfer, M., Savaget, P., Bocken, N., Hultink, E. (2017), “The circular economy – A new sustainability paradigm?, Journal of Cleaner production, Vol. 143, pp. 757–768. Ghobakhloo, M. (2020), “Industry 4.0, digitization, and opportunities for sustainability”, Journal of Cleaner production, Vol. 252, pp. 1–21. Ghobakhloo. M., Fathi. M., Iranmanesh, M., Maroufkhani, P., Morales. M. E. (2021), “Industry 4.0 ten years on: A bibliometric and systematic review of concepts, sustainability value drivers, and success determinants”, Journal of Cleaner Production, Vol. 302, p. 127052, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jclepro. 2021.127052. Ghobakhloo, M., Fathi, M. (2019), “Corporate survival in Industry 4.0 era: The enabling role of leandigitized manufacturing”, Journal of Manufacturing Technology Management, Vol. 31, No. 1, pp. 1–30. Goienetxea Uriarte, A., Ng, A. H. C., Urenda Moris, M. (2020), “Bringing together lean and simulation: A comprehensive review”, International Journal of production Research, Vol. 58, No. 1, pp. 87–117. Gonçalves Machado, C., Winroth, M. P., da Silva, E. H. D. R. (2020), “Sustainable manufacturing in industry 4.0: An emerging research agenda”, International Journal of production Research, Vol. 58, No. 5, pp. 1462–1484. Gupta, S., Modgil, S., Gunasekaran, A. (2019), “Big data in lean Six Sigma: A review and further research directions”, International Journal of production Research, Vol. 58, No. 3, pp. 947–969. Horváth, D., Szabó, R. Z. (2019), “Driving forces and barriers of Industry 4.0: Do multinational and small and medium-sized companies have equal opportunities?, Technological Forecasting and Social Change, Vol. 146, pp. 119–132. Ioppolo, G., Cucurachi, S., Salomone, R., Saija, G., Ciraolo, L. (2014), “Industrial ecology and environmental lean management: Lights and shadows”, sustainability, Vol. 6, No. 9, pp. 6362–6376. Jayaram, A. (2016), “lean Six Sigma approach for global supply chain management using industry 4.0 and IioT”, in IEEE (Ed.), 2nd International Conference on Contemporary Computing and Informatics, pp. 89–94, Uttar Pradesh, India. Kamble, S., Gunasekaran, A., Dhone, N. C. (2020), “Industry 4.0 and lean manufacturing practices for sustainable organisational performance in Indian manufacturing companies”, International Journal of production Research, Vol. 58, No. 5, pp. 1319–1337. Kamble, S., Gunasekaran, A., Gawankar, S. A. (2018), “Sustainable Industry 4.0 framework: A systematic literature review identifying the current trends and future perspectives”, Process Safety and Environmental Protection, Vol. 117, pp. 408–425. Karre, H., Hammer, M., Kleindienst, M., Ramsauer, C. (2017), “Transition towards an industry 4.0 state of the leanLab at Graz University of Technology”, in Metternich, J., Glass, R. (Eds.), 7th Conference on Learning Factories, CLF 2017, Procedia Manufacturing, Vol. 9, pp. 206–213, Darmstadt. Kirchherr, J., Reike, D., Hekkert, M. (2017). “Conceptualizing the circular economy: An analysis of 114 definitions”, Resources, Conservation and Recycling, Vol. 127, pp. 221–232. Kolber, D., Zühlke, D. (2015), “lean automation enabled by industry 4.0 technologies”, in Dolgui, A., Sasiadek, J., Zaremba, M. (Eds.), 15th IFAC Symposium on Information Control Problems in Manufacturing, IFAC-Papers Online, Vol. 48, No. 3, pp. 1870–1875. Kościelniak, H., Łęgowik-Małolepsza, M., Łęgowik-Świącik, S. (2019), “The application of information technologies in consideration of augmented reality and lean management of enterprises in the light of sustainable development”, sustainability, Vol. 11, No. 7, p. 2157. https://doi.org/10.3390/su11072157 Kouhizadeh, M., Sarkis, J., Zhu, Q. (2019), “At the nexus of blockchain technology, the circular economy, and product deletion”, Applied Sciences, Vol. 9 No. 8, p. 1712. Latinovic, T., Barz, C., Pop Vadean, A., Sikanjic, G., Sikman, L. (2020), “Adaptive intelligence system for a predictive process for the industry 4.0 in tobacco factory”, in IOP Publishing Ltd (Ed.), Journal of Physics: Conference Series, International Conference on Applied Sciences, Vol. 1426, pp. 1–12.

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Collingwood Yards The formation of a creative precinct Esther Anatolitis and Hélène Frichot

Prologue: Collingwood Yards opening night Following big discussions and bold visions animated by desires and disagreements, delays and frustrations, and with a launch date stalled by two years of pandemic disruption, ­Collingwood Yards finally welcomes the public! Opening night sparkles enticingly on the Melbourne arts calendar as one of the city’s first moments for gathering after some of the world’s longest lockdowns during the COVID-19 pandemic (see Fig 20.1). A warm Welcome to Country sets the scene as curious visitors venture across newly reinvigorated buildings embracing a central courtyard whose trees and open spaces have not been enjoyed in decades. In the Australian context, a Welcome to Country by local Indigenous Elders reaffirms that First Nations’ sovereignty was never ceded, and honours Elders past and present. On this basis, resident artists and tenant organisations can gather together with government partners, philanthropists, and new neighbours to begin to imagine what this extraordinary new place will yield. With so many different practitioners and practice modes brought together, the hope is that new relationships will nurture complex creative ecologies. So, how did Collingwood Yards come to be? What is a creative ecology, and what role can one creative precinct play in nurturing the complexities of its formation into generative practices? Introduction: Setting the scene This chapter takes a close look at the formation of a creative precinct to ask how such organisations – when well-governed, when connecting industry to communities of artists and artists organisations, when supported by state government and its planning instruments – can manifest as generative spaces that foster relationships of understanding between artistic communities and local communities. We introduce the concept of creative ecologies to discuss the ways in which a creative precinct emerges as a result of a range of complex relationships among diverse actors in an environment that itself must be understood as dynamic. Ecologies, we stress, are neither good nor bad, but sometimes allow life to flourish, and sometimes risk diminishing generative capacities. Our focus is Collingwood Yards in Naarm (Melbourne, Australia), Melbourne’s newest creative precinct, which had been many years in the making: first designated as a site for cultural development by the Victorian Government in 2014, it was brought to life by a non-profit organisation with a founding strategy led by inaugural CEO, urbanist and former festival director ­Marcus Westbury. Co-author of this chapter, Esther Anatolitis, served as founding Deputy Chair DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-23

260  E. Anatolitis and H. Frichot

Figure 20.1  Opening Night at Collingwood Yards. Source: Photography by Esther Anatolitis

of that organisation, called Contemporary Arts Precincts, which was charged with developing the governance frameworks that could best support Westbury’s vision and collaborative approach. It was a project fraught with risks and greeted with the highest of expectations among practitioners across local ecologies of practice. Collingwood, an inner-city suburb of Australia’s second-largest city, has been home to the Wurundjeri Woi Wurrung people since time immemorial. Following invasion and then colonisation, rapid development followed, and by the mid1800s, Collingwood had become a district of factories and toxic industries such as brickworks and quarries. Over a century later, as the city had grown, deindustrialisation left spacious, solidly built warehouses available for creative use, as well as a good supply of former workers’ cottages, making Collingwood a place where artists could live, work, and thrive affordably. By the 2010s, however, these creative energies had inadvertently fed property prices, expressed in the gluttony of fast-paced residential development, forcing artists out. Seemingly resisting the usually inexorable progress of gentrification, the site of the 19th-century Collingwood Artisans’ School of Design, later the Collingwood Technical College, had lain abandoned for decades. This was the opportunity that would become Collingwood Yards. One of the challenges of composing this creative space was how to resist contributing to yet more gentrification in the area. This was to be a place where artists and artist-led organisations could work securely and collaborate adventurously without being concerned about being evicted or displaced. It was to be a place where curious audiences could experience new work and engage in invigorating conversations; a place to feel challenged, inspired, and connected. A place where mutual support systems could enable the development of new modes of practice, as well as sustaining ethical ways of working. All of these qualities contribute to what we argue is a flourishing creative ecology. It was not to be a place that resulted in the forced relocation of vulnerable members of society, or the homogenisation of a local neighbourhood.

Collingwood Yards  261 Creating a new precinct for artists, makers, and their audiences is a sensitive undertaking. One of the greatest risks a precinct presents – even while aiming to alleviate the concerns of communities of creative practice, and open new spaces of creative collaboration – is the acceleration of gentrification. Gentrification is a process identified in the 1970s by Ruth Glass (2010). Observing post-war neighbourhoods in London, Glass described a suite of symptoms she identified with Americanisation: the increasing exploitation of the housing needs of the working class and migrant communities; the resulting exodus to the suburbs by those priced out of the city, and at the same time, a revaluation of life in the city by a suburban middle-class choosing to return to the inner city and take up residence there; gleams of affluence in places that had not witnessed this before; and finally, social homogenisation among previously diverse communities. Sharon Zukin’s (1982) pioneering book Loft Living goes on to address the phenomenon of artists reclaiming post-industrial urban spaces in the 1970s, which led to increasing property prices in cities like New York. By today, global cities have borne witness to wave after wave of gentrification, and canny developers know that the demographic to follow closely are artists and so-called creative types. The rejuvenation of Collingwood Yards emerges in the 21st-century at a historical juncture where such risks are well known. The Contemporary Arts Precincts Board was aware from the very outset that this project would risk ring-fencing affordability to within the precinct’s boundaries, surrounded by an inner-city environment increasingly hostile to artists. This risk became an immediate threat when a developer on the eastern threshold of the site – identifying an opportunity and rapidly moving in to capitalise on the promise of the new creative precinct – made a play for the speculative development of multi-residential housing. An unauthorised gentri-fiction was deployed to leverage site value and future apartment sales by riding on the promise of rubbing shoulders with creative types. A gentri-fiction, as Frichot has argued across several essays, is a story composed through image-making practices and marketing narratives that aims to reassure a local population that forthcoming projects of revitalisation and development will not result in the loss of community relations and the displacement of more vulnerable citizens. Gentri-fiction is “a spatial story told through branded compositions of image and text” (Frichot 2017: 2.5), deployed less as a means of making an account of our local urban environment worlds, than of repackaging these worlds as spatial commodities. Without seeking consultation or approval, property developers Gurner Group released a prospectus illustrated with Collingwood Yards images and even a photograph of Westbury himself, the inaugural CEO of Collingwood Yards. At the same time, Gurner Group lodged objection after objection with local planning authorities against Collingwood Yards’ plans – a vexatious approach which would require a creative response. And so, years before it would become a creative precinct, the site was generating one of neoliberal capitalism’s most fundamental conflicts, risking the perilous slide into what Claire Bishop (2012) calls an “artificial hell” by hijacking an imaginary of local creative participation in an adjacent developer-driven project that was in fact aimed predominantly at profit. The best of intentions invested in the planning of a creative precinct are easily waylaid and are ever at risk of producing unintended consequences for a local neighbourhood ecology. This combination of creative talent and developer desire is, by now, an established narrative. Richard Florida (2005), for example, well known for his celebration of the creative class and what it offers to the rejuvenation of cities, produces what Bishop cautions is a “gentrification handbook” (2012: fn 19, 290) directed at the revitalisation of cities led by creatives despite the resulting collateral damage produced. Artists and creatives are easily taken up in such plans. Bishop looks specifically to a surge of interest among artists from the 1990s onwards in participation and collaboration. This is what she calls an “expanded field of post-studio practices” (1–2), noting that it has become a near global phenomenon. Yet, in the desire to work with local communities and

262  E. Anatolitis and H. Frichot to strengthen social bonds, Bishop issues an important warning. Bishop warns of how, with the retreat of the welfare state, participatory and socially engaged art comes to be instrumentalised, filling a gap that widens with the evacuation of state-based social support systems. In an interview, Bishop explains that the instigation of the book, Artificial Hells, came from an observation of how “neoliberal cultural funding policies began to use art as a way to reinforce social inclusion agendas that were being simultaneously undermined by the privatisation of education and healthcare” (Eschenburg 2014: 177) to which could be added housing. In Artificial Hells, she argues that the participatory turn always risks being “less about repairing the social bond than a mission to enable all members of society to be self-administering, fully functioning consumers who do not rely on the welfare state and who can cope with a deregulated, privatised world” (6). Isabelle Stengers, who will be introduced further on, remarks: “The privatization of resources that are simply essential to survival, such as water, is the order of the day, as well as that of those institutions which, in our countries, had been considered as ensuring a human right, like education” (Stengers 2015: 80). Here is where we begin to see the vulnerability of any creative ecology and how the flourishing of one set of relations may well lead to the diminution of another. A great deal is at stake. Wily developers, meanwhile, have gone as far as enrolling artist groups in their endeavours to develop socially and culturally sensitive sites by securing public or local community support for the project. To ask how power can be adequately shared and wealth appropriately distributed is beyond the scope of what we can adequately address here, but we can venture a discussion of a specific cultural precinct to explore how well it might or might not support a sufficiently diverse ecology of creative practice. Despite the real risk of disenfranchisement, there persists the promise of everyday affects, the sharing of everyday life and everyday joys, and humble aspirations for facilitating community-building while acknowledging our differences. To render this fragile ecology of relations durable, a capacity for critical self-reflection and the wherewithal to remain critically alert to the after-effects of such work – including the ever-present risks of the neoliberal co-option of such efforts – remains crucial. Let’s turn to the question of what is a creative precinct. And how does it support an ecology of creative practice? What, exactly, do we mean by creative ecologies? What is a creative precinct? We hear the term “creative precinct” commonly used to describe the different kinds of places where artists live and practice, or where creative work is made or presented, or where people choose to live because of proximity to creative people and a diversity of cultural experiences. A precinct can be planned or unplanned, with property developers and governments relying on value capture in ways that all too often force independent artists out of the places whose increasing value they themselves precipitated. Successful creative precincts are developed, facilitated, and sustained via multiple approaches – and that multiplicity is essential. A precinct might be just the one building, or a clearly bounded site, or a less-defined neighbourhood – or it might be a set of tactical approaches that unlock the complex potential of a place in valuable yet indeterminate ways. Unless we’re more specific, “creative precinct” can be an unhelpful way of focusing our thinking, evoking too many characteristics to be of use. Successful precincts also change over time. A creative precinct located in one building might expand into a site when neighbouring buildings and venues attract creative uses. A site might become a neighbourhood when artists begin to live and work nearby, and when residents and other businesses are attracted to move in on the basis of local creative energies. A planned creative neighbourhood might be rejected by the artists and communities to whom it was targeted – be

Collingwood Yards  263 it for accessibility, cost or other cultural factors – actively leaving the area and withdrawing the value they helped create in the first place. The place management approach of a neighbourhood is critical to its success, spanning creative as well as commercial and hospitality activities. All require tactical approaches and a capacity for critical reflection that evolves over time, cutting across the physical and the spatial to facilitate new modes of creation and engagement, including those unforeseen by the original planners. Like most creative places, Collingwood Yards started out as a tactical undertaking, including governance models, strategies, and early activations. Once the resident artists and organisations moved in, it became a site. And as its energies and relationships give rise to surrounding activity whose communities link those energies to Collingwood Yards, it evolves into a neighbourhood. The greatest challenge of a precinct’s success is to plan unintended consequences: to create the conditions where independent creative practice can thrive and develop new audiences, yielding what couldn’t possibly have been anticipated by governments or developers, such that the cultural value generated continues to feed the success of the precinct. This is the organic yet purposeful work of a creative ecology. What is a creative ecology? Australia’s professional arts communities have long embraced the word ecology in referring to themselves collectively as the arts ecology – as opposed to the arts sector, arts industry, or creative industries. We see it in artists’ everyday language, arts organisations’ strategic plans, and also representations to government. Anatolitis regularly evokes the term in her work as an arts and cultural advocate, and public and political commentator (Anatolitis 2021). There is more at stake in these distinctions, however, than simply an insistence on decentring capitalist economies and privileging creative ones. It’s a deliberately evocative choice of term: a word rich in connotations around organic development, complexity, and interdependence. We have already deployed the concept of ecology above to discuss the relational ontology of local communities and their vulnerability in the face of profit-driven development, and we have alluded to how the collective work of artists can be conceived as creative ecologies of practice. Let’s explore this further. Ecology, first and foremost, evokes the natural world of organic growth and development as well as decay. Plants, forests, and jungles; bacteria, fungi, and animals; communities, populations, and biospheres. Ecology as a scientific study examines the interactions between organisms and environments forming what Gregory Bateson famously calls “the basic unit of survival” (2000: 491). It’s a highly dynamic field, composed of life forms operating according to their own logics, finding ever-new ways to diversify and grow as intricately and messily as all the ways that art is made. The arts ecology is composed of artists, designers, producers, curators, marketers, technicians, administrators, creative organisations, museums, galleries, theatres, industry bodies, unions, and many more such entities – each with its own purpose, own strategic vision, and own operating model. Given that artists’ average incomes remain chronically low, having stagnated at or below the poverty line for four decades in the Australian context (Throsby and Petetskaya 2017), there is also a precarity to the ecology that’s as fragile as life itself; a healthy creative ecology needs constant nurturing. This takes us to a second connotation around complexity. Ecologies are systems within systems – ecosystem is also a term preferred by the arts ecology – nested, overlapping, and in conflicts both generative and destructive. When critical mass moments emerge and great ideas break through, what’s generated exceeds the previous scope of imagination; as Anatolitis wrote at the height of the pandemic, “art defines what’s possible, and defies what’s impossible” (Anatolitis

264  E. Anatolitis and H. Frichot 2020). Given this complexity, there is no Australian benchmark nor agreed definition of what constitutes the arts ecology. Beyond the practice modes and organisation types that make up the ecology, there is the question of whether designers, architects, and filmmakers are included. The Australia Council for the Arts, the Australian government’s arts investment and advisory body, does not fund screen-based works for example, referring those applicants to Screen Australia. The federal government arts ministry – at the time of writing, located within the Department of Infrastructure, Transport, Regional Development and Communications – identifies a different set of artforms to the Australia Council, and includes screen. The Australian Bureau of Statistics has a broad measure of “cultural and creative activity” that includes zoos and botanical gardens as cultural experiences, as well as capturing the economic contributions of creative workers in other industries, such as corporate in-house graphic designers. Clearly, the arts ecology’s systems are complex, open, and indeterminate. Thirdly, ecologies are characterised by an essential interdependence among complex forms of varying scale and scope. Artists and arts workers take agile leaps between freelance and salaried work at small independent organisations or major state-funded companies. Innovation is richest at the smallest scale, as with any complex system, which makes the larger companies dependent on under-resourced collectives and independent artists for their own future innovations and blockbusters. This makes any policy approach quite the challenge: without a clear sense of what constitutes the arts ecology, it’s difficult to anticipate unintended consequences. And yet fostering this interdependence – and negotiating the tension between independence and interdependence – is the most critical challenge for a creative precinct’s success: curating a dynamic set of residency, tenancy, and participation modes that will be mutually generative, yielding more than could previously have been imagined possible, and embracing the unknown. The word “ecology” finds rich engagement in contemporary theory and has inspired creative practice across architecture, design, and art. Exploring the approach of an eco-memoir and inspired by Rachel Carson’s eco-critical writing, Bastian Fox Phelan cites Hawaiian and Swiss artist and Indigenous ethnobotanist T’uy’t’tanat-Cease Wyss, who says: “When I think about ecology, I think about humility and reciprocity. And I think those are two things we have to work on, in a deeper sense, with our environment” (2012). Ecology prompts us to think in relation, to practice in light of an acknowledgement of our immersion in the midst of things, because we, humans, are part and parcel of ecologies too. Ecology designates the study of life, as we saw above, but we who study it cannot presume to be on the outside looking in. As Bateson once argued: “We are not outside the ecology for which we plan – we are always and inevitably part of it” (2000: 512). The implication of this is that when we practice in such a way that our local ecology is negatively impacted, we likewise undermine our very livelihood and capacity for survival. Peg Rawes (2013: 1) explains that the biologist Ernst Haeckel defined ecology as the “household of nature”, drawing into proximity what we understand by habitat, natural milieux, places, and the fundamentals of shelter, suggesting as such a mingling of the natural and the constructed. The word “eco”, as is often pointed out, comes from the ancient Greek term oikos, which means house or home, designating the basic unit of ancient Greek society (Bennett 2010: 365). Ecology is composed of a flux of relations mobilised across scales, from the micro to the macro. Given the acute awareness of the increasing precarity of environmental conditions amidst concatenating climate crises, it is hardly surprising to see a flourishing of titles dedicated to a re-engagement in variously defined ecologies: Mohsen Mostafavi and Gareth Doherty’s (2010) Ecological Urbanism; Orff, Kate Orff’s (2016) Toward an Urban Ecology, Rawes’ (2013) Relational Architectural Ecologies; Joanna Boehnert’s (2018) Design Ecology Politics: Toward the Ecocene; and recently, Hélène Frichot’s (2018) Creative Ecologies: Theorising the Practice of

Collingwood Yards  265 Architecture. This re-engagement with the powerful and mobile concept of ecology can either be read as a marketing ploy or else a sincere effort to ground our thinking amidst our material practices and acknowledge the planetary implications of our every aesthetic move. When Frichot, one of the co-authors of this essay, defines creative ecologies – with an emphasis on ecologies in the plural – she draws on thinkers such as Peg Rawes (2013), Félix Guattari (2000), Gregory Bateson (2000), Isabelle Stengers (2005, 2010, 2011). What must be achieved in the pronounced turn to this mobilising term, ecologies, is the entanglement of natures and cultures, the fact that we are all of us, human, non-human, more than human, stuck thick in the midst of things on what has become our damaged planet. Here is where advice from thinkers and practitioners of psychotherapy, such as Félix Guattari, proves useful. In his essay “The Three Ecologies”, Guattari (2000) articulates a tripartite interlocking structure of mental, social and environmental ecologies and argues for the importance of composing these according to transversal relations that cut a zigzag line that counters flat ontologies, on the one hand, and the vertical striations of fixed hierarchies, on the other. Feminist philosopher Isabelle Stengers takes up the promise of Guattari’s three ecologies and demonstrates how these pertain to an ecology of practices. Because we are embodied, ever immersed, and entangled amidst ecologies, we must find the best means of practising adequately. Stengers’ ecologies of practice, as a conceptual and methodological formulation, is directed at scientific communities but can be extended to any research or artistic community (2005, 2010, 2011). All ecologies of practice are vulnerable and, in a non-metaphoric sense, occupy habitats. These habitats can be rendered uninhabitable or hostile depending on an array of factors that extend from the prevailing environmental conditions to the policy frameworks, modes of governance, and funding bodies, right down to the granular scale of workplace relations, that enable and disable collective action. An ecology of practice is constrained by its disciplinary obligations and requirements, and Stengers, alert to the inherent vulnerability of ecologies, encourages respect to be paid to a diversity of practices. What is needed is a biodiversity of approaches to contemporary problems rather than a monoculture of normative forms. Our case study From the outset, Collingwood Yards was informed by the experiences of creative precincts across Australia and across the world. There were buildings such as Carriageworks in Sydney, China House in Penang, and Wedding Co-op studios in Berlin. Sites like Auf AEG in Nürnberg, Granville Island in Vancouver, and Balboa Park in San Diego. And creative neighbourhoods in Newcastle, Berlin, New York, and more. As a site within a rapidly changing neighbourhood, developed into a precinct via a unique model of government investment, philanthropy, and social enterprise, Collingwood Yards makes a useful case study. With the strategic focus of its earliest meetings, the board committed to three key principles. First, their role in establishing the precinct was to create the conditions where the independent arts ecology could thrive – and therefore, the leadership model needed to be facilitative, not directive, with no artistic director. Secondly, it followed that Collingwood Yards should never compete with tenants on funding nor programming. And thirdly, a great deal of cultural and social responsibility comes with securing affordability within the site’s boundaries, and so the board would need to adopt a governance model that recognised this. Consistent with the cautions of Bishop and Stengers, Contemporary Arts Precincts did not wish to inaugurate the conditions that would co-opt or exploit the work of artists who are already some of the most precarious workers in our society. At the same time, the board remained aware of this risk; as Bateson cautioned, it was impossible for the board to imagine themselves outside of the ecology they hoped to shape.

266  E. Anatolitis and H. Frichot

Figure 20.2  Collingwood Yards. Source: Photography by Esther Anatolitis

An ecology exists as a complex, tentative balance of elements and flows. In our case study, the founding board was just one of these complex elements. The project had originally been initiated by the state government of Victoria, who is the property owner, and had bipartisan support, with partnership investment continuing seamlessly through a change in government. This was vital to achieving the zoning change that was ultimately needed to secure the success of the project, given the emergence of a hostile element right at the site’s boundary: a property developer intent on leveraging the increasing property values that Collingwood Yards would inevitably effect, while at the same time, aggressively objecting at the municipal level to any proposal that remotely risked minimising profit. And so capitalism, too, became an active element early on in this creative ecology, threatening to undermine the board’s fledgling plans and long-term social responsibility. This required innovative thinking in partnership with the state government, resulting in the creation of a new Special Use Zone that would override local government regulation to overlay the one set of planning conditions across the site, with a focus on cultural activity. This innovation could strengthen the ecology by recognising and codifying its unique elements, which can then be applied to future creative precincts within the state of Victoria. It also neutralised the developer’s aggression, requiring a more cooperative approach that resulted in modifications to the height and other aspects of the property development. Future ecologies Now that the founding tenants have moved in, sustaining the model becomes the highest priority for the new board. Their greatest challenge is to plan for unintended consequences: enabling mutually generative relationships between residents, tenants, and audiences by negotiating the tension between independence and interdependence. In other words, nurturing the creative ecology.

Collingwood Yards  267

Figure 20.3  Image of activity at Collingwood Yards. Source: Photography by Esther Anatolitis

Good governance requires active engagement across the ecology, anticipating cultural and collaborative protocols, and understanding their application in an environment of complexity. In bringing these new spaces to life, new interdependencies have been formed: the success of the Contemporary Arts Precincts organisation is premised on the success of the Collingwood Yards tenants, and their own on one another’s – artists and organisations who are themselves often engaged in precarious modes of practice or organisational sustainability. These are not governance responsibilities typical of board directors outside of the creative industries, who would tend to consider themselves at some remove from the ecologies that sustain that particular sector of the economy and of society. Here, a sensitive governance approach is required that remains politically engaged at multiple government levels and with multiple parties, as well as remaining actively engaged with what enables or constrains independent artistic practice. Imperatives include ensuring there are always at least two First Nations directors, of which one is a Wurundjeri Woi Wurrung person, as well as an active First Peoples Reference Group who oversee policy, protocol, and self-directed programs. Ensuring that decision-making processes are culturally safe for all involved will be vital, with conflict recognised as generative and conflicts of interest managed in sophisticated ways. A creative precinct is not a pop-up; long, hard work is required to maintain structures of governance and care while continuing to advocate for the communities, the practices, and the spaces that nurture creative ecologies. Wyss (2021) was right to evoke humility and reciprocity as the “two things we have to work on, in a deeper sense, with our environment”. At the heart of good governance is the understanding that power is distributed across an ecology and not held within the boardroom. With all of the founding board members having completed their

268  E. Anatolitis and H. Frichot tenures, Contemporary Arts Precincts is at a fragile stage as the company comes to a renewed understanding of its custodial role. The risk of accelerating gentrification has increased across the past six months alone, with cost of living and interest rate rises threatening to displace more and more local creative activity. The risk of lapsing into an “artificial hell” is also a real one, ensuring that community and cultural development serves generative purposes rather than contributing to the inexorable retreat of the welfare state with its complex public responsibilities. Even once it has elaborated beyond a site and across a neighbourhood, a creative precinct can only foster the ecologies its communities have the integrity to develop, engaging with genuine reciprocity to create what couldn’t possibly have been imagined alone. References Anatolitis, Esther (2020) Art Creates the Future, NAVAnews 2020 Issue 3 https://visualarts.net.au/newsopinion/2020/art-creates-future/ accessed September 06, 2022. Anatolitis, Esther (2021) Place, Practice, Politics, Braunach, Germany: Deutscher Spurbuchverlag. Bateson, Gregory (2000) Steps to an Ecology of Mind. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Bennett, Jane (2010) Vibrant Matter: A Political Ecology of Things. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Bishop, Claire (2012) Artificial Hells: Participatory Art and the Politics of Spectatorship, London and New York: Verso. Boehnert, Joanna (2018) Design Ecology Politics: Toward the Ecocene. London: Bloomsbury. Eschenburg, Madeline (2014) ‘Artificial Hells: A Conversation with Claire Bishop’, Contemporaneity: Historical Presence in Visual Culture, 3 (1): 176–78. http://contemporaneity.pitt.edu Florida, Richard (2005) Cities and the Creative Class. London: Routledge. Frichot, Hélène (2017) ‘Local Real(i)ties: A Contemporary Image of Thought’, Artifact, IV (1): 2.1–2.9. Frichot, Hélène (2018) Creative Ecologies: Theorising the Practice of Architecture. London: Bloomsbury. Glass, Ruth (2010) ‘Aspects of change’, J. Brown-Saracino, ed., The Gentrification Debates. New York: Routledge: 19–30. Guattari, Félix (2000) The Three Ecologies, London: Athlone Press. Mostafavi, Mohsen and Gareth Doherty (2010) Ecological Urbanism. Zurich: Lars Müller. Orff, Kate (2016) Toward an Urban Ecology. New York: The Monacelli Press. Phelan, Bastian Fox (2012) ‘I Know Such a Pool’ Sydney Review of Books, 12 August 2012. https://­ sydneyreviewofbooks.com/essay/phelan-i-know-such-a-hidden-pool/ Rawes, Peg, ed. (2013) Relational Architectural Ecologies. London: Routledge. Stengers, Isabelle (2005) ‘Introductory Notes on an Ecology of Practices’, Cultural Studies Review, 11 (1): 183–96. Stengers, Isabelle (2010) Cosmopolitics I. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Stengers, Isabelle (2011) Cosmopolitics II. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Stengers, Isabelle (2015) In Catastrophic Times: Resisting the Coming Barbarism, London: Open ­Humanities Press. Throsby, David and Katya Petetskaya (2017) Making Art Work: An Economic Study of Professional Artists in Australia. Strawberry Hills: Australia Council for the Arts. Zukin, Sharon (1982) Loft Living: Culture and Capital in Urban Change. Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press. Wyss, T’uy’t’tanat Cease (2021) ‘FE1.1 - Decolonize this Podcast’, Future Ecologies. https://www.­ futureecologies.net/listen/fe1-1-decolonize-this-podcast

21

Driving innovation and equity in the 21st-century Australian city Rob McGauran

Four years later, these ideas grew in popularity, propelled by Daniel H. Pink’s bestselling book, A Whole New Mind – Why Right Brainers Will Rule the Future, 2006. Pink considered the future of work and linked critical ages of enterprise and industry with enabling combinations of technologies and skills, asking us to consider, what next.1 This new era requires different skills from those that precede it. Creativity and empathy have replaced linear and analytical thinking as core skills. It is typically now more important to identify the right question than solve a single problem. The way we shape our cities, our places of collaboration, enterprise, and learning are central to our future success in delivering success in this new conceptual age. This chapter looks at the intersection of applied research and practice in addressing shaping the Creative City to respond to these challenges. According to Daniel Pink, the rise of cities, education, and invention saw humans evolve from the agricultural age through the industrial age to the information age of the 20th century,2 in which problems are solved by the larger aggregations of data and the diagnostic skills and technologies available to address them. The information age saw the role of universities grow as companies recognised the value of the aggregation of talent and research capacity. Daniel Pink proffers that the new millennium brought with it another seismic shift in which we have moved into the conceptual age and animated by a different form of thinking and new approaches to life.3 This new age requires different skills from those that precede it. The linear and analytical thinking that dominated the information age is no longer the dominant paradigm; replaced by creativity and empathy. More important than solving a problem is identifying what is the right question. Over the past 20 years, poor city planning, innovation, housing, and climate adaptation policies in Australian cities have undermined the diversity and resultant capacity of dynamic inner-city neighbourhoods and under-leveraged the drivers of new enterprises and jobs in the conceptual age. Across areas of knowledge, social inclusion, and sustainability, we have the potential to measure the benefits of projects through:

• Peer recognition and awards • Economic, organisational, social, environmental, health and wellbeing, and cultural impact • Better homes and more resilient communities, cities, and environments In looking for ways to leverage our distinctive advantages to a shared benefit, this chapter focuses on the rise of the new Creative City, a reimagined city that supports the needs of Pink’s conceptual age. I argue that two elements must be nurtured to ensure the success of the Creative City: Innovation and Social Diversity and Inclusion. DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-24

270  R. McGauran The conceptual age and the role of the urban designer and architect Over more than three decades, MGS Architects, the intergenerational practice I co-founded in 1986 with Mun Soon and soon thereafter Eli Giannini AM, has sought to operate for positive social, cultural, economic, and environmental impact. The work has combined metropolitan and precinct-level strategic and master planning projects with case study architectural projects. The projects have been widely acknowledged with national and state awards in urban design, planning, and architecture and featured in publications and exhibitions. Our agenda has been shaped by the needs of the Australian city (most particularly Melbourne), the community, and the environment in which we live. We have sought to collaborate to understand it and uncovered insights to understand how we might enable it to respond to the wicked challenges facing the new age and our community. Our toolkit has been developed through enduring research partnerships with universities, annual self-directed global research of best practice exemplars supported by visits to many world-leading tertiary institutions and engagement with the key stakeholders therein as well as those charged with addressing the challenges facing our cities, communities, and institutions locally. Our underlying ambition has been to practice for purpose. This approach has required us to operate outside the conventional boundaries of design practice in order to effectively leverage our city’s strengths and address the emerging major cracks in equity, resilience and across our diverse metropolis. Insights have been drawn through various modes of practice and engagement. Embedded client-side roles have been critical in developing this insight. Some roles, such as those on university councils, on governance committees, and as university architect, have given us a better understanding of the importance of the master plan as an enabling tool for the implementation of university strategic plans and, in turn, the essential role of good governance to support this. Boards of not-for-profit community housing agencies, and those responsible for effective engagement and uplift of disadvantaged communities, have evidenced the foundational role of safe, conveniently located, and well-designed housing. These boards have taught us the value of the coalition-of-the-willing in implementing these projects with great impact and benefit. Resultant partnerships have ensued between governments, philanthropy, and not-for-profits to unleash the undeveloped potential of “lazy land” and delivered some fantastic enduring projects across our capital and regional cities. We have been privileged to be entrusted with extensive urban design, master planning, design review, project design management, and project and precinct implementation roles for the urban renewal precinct visions we had authored. Master plans for Monash and LaTrobe Universities have been followed by roles as University Architect and University Master Planner at both. Plans for many of Melbourne’s most successful Creative City precincts, including Cremorne and Collingwood, have been followed by enduring precinct project review processes, in which we have assisted local and state government planners and communities to successfully negotiate outcomes with developers and their designers. Cumulatively, these roles have provided us with real-time substantial sampling of project responses to our authored policies, plans, architectural and urban design projects, and applied research. The issues arising, the efficacy of the planning and design tools we have adopted, market responses to our assumed metrics for development economics and research into emerging need and market trends, our skills in effective design advocacy and mediation, and our ability to bring decision-makers and community with us through design and narrative skills, have all been tested through this process.

Driving innovation and equity in the 21st-century Australian city  271 Essential infrastructure for the Creative City: quality affordable housing With a third of Australians now in rental housing4 and higher concentrations in job-intensive areas of the inner city and large regional centres, affordability of rental and supply in some capitals, and proximity to high concentration of jobs for this in affordable housing are, in combination, at 20 year lows.5 Shortages, compounded by recent catastrophic floods and fires,6 the return of international and local students and tourism, and the proposed and necessary expansion of immigration programs to meet key skilled labour shortages and address the humanitarian global crisis,7 will further amplify years of failed urban and enterprise development and affordable housing investment. Melbourne’s success depends on a broad range of economic sectors including tertiary education, health and research, culture and events, hospitality and tourism, advanced manufacture, retail and hospitality, and family services. These sectors rely on a workforce entrenched in moderate and low incomes who require affordable housing proximate to their workplaces, their ecosystems of enterprise. The Creative City is nourished by the co-location of affordable rental housing with opportunities to live well and sustainably and to contribute to the dynamism, diversity, and hence the resilience of these places that Daniel Pink identifies as critical to our collective future. Examples of success in delivering these models include Barcelona’s 22@Barcelona urban renewal program, Zurich’s New Oerlikon and Paris’s Rive Gauche. 22@ Barcelona An interesting case study, the 22@Barcelona renewal of a former industrial and largely privately owned neighbourhood of over 200 hectares, is reimagined as a new place for urban, economic, and social innovation (Figure 21.1). The DNA of this innovation district is founded in its vision and enabling strategies: The global vision has been implemented through the concentration of knowledge-based activities, as well as a strong involvement of new technologies. Urban planning was guided by the “compact city” principle, which links higher-density planning to environmental efficiency and improved life-quality. To that end, subsidized housing, public spaces, and green areas have been planned in order to create a balanced neighborhood.8 Catalytic early city infrastructure investment included an interventionist approach to housing and workplace diversity with clear targets, and a clear plan that facilitated diversity with aligned development uplift. Twenty years on, the success is evident with over 70% of the precinct renewed, accommodating over 9,000 businesses, 10 universities and research institutes with more than 25,000 students, over 4,000 homes, and more than 1,600 new affordable housing units. Lessons learned Each of these examples includes:

• A well evidenced masterplan identifying development targets, key infrastructure and placemaking investments, and the necessary enabling Planning Policies and Targets.

• Catalytic early government investment in key green travel transport, and digital and placemaking infrastructure.

272  R. McGauran

Figure 21.1 22@Barcelona.

Driving innovation and equity in the 21st-century Australian city  273

• A distinctive identity, capabilities, and anchoring institutions that have driven investment and impact.

• The co-location of Innovation jobs with housing including affordable housing that has attracted and nurtured talent and minimised car dependency.

• A focus on stitching the precincts into the broader city in which they sit to amplify impact and collaboration with the precinct as the catalyst.

• A focus on leveraging what is local and special in partnership with an emphasis on building a high-quality urban environment.

Our challenge In Australia, urban renewal for the Creative City requires:

• the right catalytic early infrastructure supported by good governance and an enduring stakeholder engagement to champion change,

• the right scale, siting, and connections to knowledge intensive anchors to catalyse innovation and grow and attract complimentary enterprise partners that are diverse in scale,

• the right mix of housing including affordable housing that supports the precinct’s global competitiveness for talent and diversity and drive the necessary precinct vitality,

• the right urban design, environmental, and architectural standards consistently manifested

in the quality standards for streets, urban spaces, buildings, and facilities within the quarter from inception.

Melbourne has enormous opportunities to leverage a unique time in its development. Fishermans Bend’s 200-hectare employment precinct sits less than 2 km from the CBD Grid and a river crossing from the nearly completed mixed-use waterfront quarter of Docklands. Despite many reasonable criticisms, the Docklands renewal has delivered valuable lessons and benefits to the city. It demonstrated that, with the right infrastructure, the private sector will invest,9 key organisations will stay and grow, and people will change their modes of travel to work, where they live, and the tenure of that accommodation to leverage the distinctive opportunities these precincts offer. At Docklands, more than two-thirds of the 17,500 residents in 10,000 households have tertiary qualifications and work in professional jobs, with a similar number renting. Early investment in the extension of the tram network and upgraded rail has meant that only one in five households drive a car to work with most either walking or using public transport.10 Its 73,000+ workforce is employed in more than 170 businesses. The success of the neighbouring Fishermens Bend and the new 17 hectare + metro-enabled Arden precinct will rely on an early shift by the Government in its calibration of vision, zoning tools, early infrastructure investment programs and affordable housing. Our city’s chronic shortfall of affordable housing stock for the key workers necessary to drive the innovation, essential services, and amenities the future city needs, disproportionately benefits these innovation hubs of employment and learning when co-located. Equally, Fishermans Bend’s future is condemned to mediocrity and underperformance, without delivery of, at a minimum, light rail and dedicated cycleway to the proposed new university campus, and innovations in zoning to support enduring rental-capped affordable key worker housing. Innovation in the Creative City For universities, the COVID-19 transformation has been radical. Emphasis in face-to-face education has shifted to peer-to-peer, work-integrated, project-based, simulation, and experiential

274  R. McGauran focuses. Traditional lectures are typically delivered in hybrid arrangements, where students may choose to attend remotely. New opportunities to conduct online conferencing, studios, and lectures at low cost have opened new frontiers for researchers and potential industry and academic collaborators that require advancements in the quality of technology and spaces to enhance the virtual and hybrid studio, boardroom, or simulation laboratory and workplace experience. These institutions provide the opportunities for students to rebuild the individual resilience, life, adaptive, and learning skills, and confidence, curiosity, empathetic, and communication skills and the support structures of lifelong friendship and collaboration groups acknowledged by students as a key reason for physical attendance on campus. We have heard academics describing this as finding your people, a group that nurtures your sense of purpose, complements your insights and skills, and makes you better. In addition to the value ascribed to the quality and reputation of the anchoring learning institution, their choice of city in which to study (one where Melbourne is amongst the leading global cities) is driven by issues including a city’s safety, rich multiculturalism, diversity of experiences and choices, proximity to part-time supportive work and pathways to post-graduation employment. Melbourne continues to be a place where knowledge workers, creatives, and students are able to find people of like-minded interests. Location for impact Locating high concentrations of talent where they further amplify our city/enterprise/citizen capacity is exemplified with the success of the creative precincts of Parkville, Docklands, Cremorne, and Monash. With access to more accurate data, insights, and evidence, city-makers can evidence issues, choices, benchmarks, and opportunities. As the challenges have become more complex, and the disciplines and technology applied to the challenges necessarily expanded, the questions and solutions become more interdisciplinary in their dependencies and iterative in their resolution, proximity to colleagues and collaborators, both virtually and physically, has become more vital. The University-anchored Innovation precinct can be viewed as a microcosm of both the opportunities and challenges arising in response to the Conceptual Age. The positive short and longer-term impacts of campus renewal can now be measured and hence inform future project decision-making. These precincts are now truly living laboratories where we can measure impacts in a timely way and as a tool to inform decision-making, communication to stakeholders, and priorities for investment. Our work in the Knowledge City space seeks to apply and expand this toolkit for maximum positive short and long-term impact. The Monash national employment and innovation cluster Building a strong relationship between town and gown

Melbourne had long been seen as the cultural capital of Australia. The Marvelous Melbourne of the first decade of Federation had celebrated the 50-year anniversaries of the University of Melbourne, Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology, and State Library of Victoria. The city had one of the world’s most extensive urban tramway networks and had the Felton Bequest to the National Gallery of Victoria, a bequest exceeding those of London’s National and Tate galleries combined.11 By the beginning of the new Millennium, it was already a great university and research city. New campuses and colleges had emerged in the suburbs postwar to educate the returning

Driving innovation and equity in the 21st-century Australian city  275 service members and their expanding progeny. Monash University was one of these and is described as the first of a new type of Australian University rather than the last of the old. The main campus at Clayton is 17km to the southeast of Melbourne. At the time of our appointment in 2011, the new leadership, led by Chancellor Alan Finkel AO and Vice Chancellor Sir Edward Byrne AC, understood it’s unique strengths and the opportunity for the University to be great in world terms, but were equally aware of the negative perceptions of the campus and underlying business. Our research of globally successful university campuses had confirmed the potential afforded through the alignment of the Physical Plan with the new University Strategy when supported by the right governance framework, strategic positioning within the metropolis, and clear Campus, Vision, Principles, and Strategies. The local success of the aggregation of talent in university and health clusters at Parkville mirrored that globally in places such as Philadelphia’s University City Precinct, John Hopkins in Baltimore and ETH and the University of Zurich with the adjoining health cluster in Zurich. Remarkably, Monash could already be proud of its successes despite its (less than ideal) physical campus arrangements and facilities. The achievements in a decade

The key achievements over the decade of implementation of the Clayton plan have included:

• Inclusion of Monash University as the Centre of one of a small number of established

• • • • • • • •

• • • • • • •

­ ational Employment and Innovation Clusters within Plan Melbourne 2017–2050 and now N ranked by industry indices in the top two in Australia and the world’s top 50 universities,12 44 from a ranking outside the top 170 at the commencement of our commission.13 A growing campus population of 42,500 students, up from 25,800 in 2010. Successful partnerships to deliver the co-location of the Victorian Heart Hospital and the new Moderna MRNA production and research facility. Completion of over 200,000 sqm of new and refurbished buildings. The most nationally awarded campus in the past decade for master planning and projects. New residential accommodation for 1,600 students. Campus Carbon Neutrality before the target date of 2030. Extensive Stormwater harvesting and treatment infrastructure that secures the extensive and expanding campus landscapes and the amenity, research, and biodiversity this enables. New general and specialist learning teaching and research spaces featuring peer-to-peer, learning-enabled areas that incentivise interdisciplinary sharing through enhanced quality of technology, design for flexibility in learning and teaching pedagogies, and careful campus positioning of facilities to facilitate shared access and blurring of disciplinary boundaries. Replacement of 40% roadways and at-grade parking with new buildings and landscapes. Positioning of shared facilities and hospitality services for meeting along pedestrian streets. 24-hour campus safety and vitality along key walks linking the historic College Precinct and Public Transport and Parking hubs to the campus core through the inclusion of bridging extended-hour high-use shared learning spaces, hospitality, and new student housing. A new Bus interchange, now the busiest in metropolitan Melbourne. Zero additional campus parking spaces despite a 60% increase in staff and student numbers. Prioritisation of the centre of the campus for students and collaboration. A nearly doubled $1.8bn p.a. economic impact in the State and the Monash Technology Precinct and direct contribution to GDP and a $2.5bn contribution to export income, a more than three-fold increase on 2011 figures.

276  R. McGauran The key moves

The lessons learned at Monash provide a useful blueprint for Innovation Clusters across Australia. They have informed our responses to new precincts in Canberra, Sydney, Wollongong, RMIT’s City North Innovation Precinct, the new Arden Metro Precinct, VU’s suite of Western Melbourne campuses, and UNSW’s Kensington Precinct. Advocacy and success in building an enduring town and gown partnership strategy

Central to the success of innovation precincts globally is the commitment to a shared vision and story. The Creative City framework is at the centre of this narrative. The success of Town and Gown partnerships lies in building a deep understanding of the key success factors around which City and University make decisions and determining the means by which these can be shaped in partnership. Until recently, Melbourne Metropolitan Planning Strategy determined the significance of Activity Centres based on the quantum of retail and commercial floor space.14 Universities and their synergistic neighbouring Public Hospitals, whilst enjoying self-determining zoning provisions were not well understood by planning policymakers as a consequence, leading to their understatement in metropolitan and municipal strategic planning. Within suburban areas, higher concentrations of jobs were typically understood to be in larger regional shopping malls where salaries and skills were typically modest and growth declining rending these areas and the communities they served, dependent on longer commutes to central city opportunities. The exception to these characteristics were the clusters of Knowledge and Health where significant growth both in jobs and salaries corresponded to those of changing inner urban areas. The Monash Cluster is and was the highest performing of these. In 2011–12, as the Monash Masterplan was being finalised, the state led a review of the Melbourne Metropolitan Plan, providing us with the opportunity to support the University in repositioning itself to align its strategic ambition more effectively with that of the Metropolis and State by demonstrating the strategic city-shaping importance of the Monash Cluster, and the network of like, albeit less developed clusters in the city’s north and west. The submission made a series of 25 recommendations to the Committee that included:

• Designation of the Clayton Innovation Precinct as a major Employment and Innovation Cluster in the forthcoming plan in recognition of its current and future national significance.

• Incentivisation of partnerships between state and local governments and institutions to deliver higher quality and better value shared facilities.

• Earmarking of strategic middle and outer suburban precincts (e.g., Monash Clayton and

Caulfield) for urban renewal to develop world-class environments for innovation and collaboration. • Partnering with Monash University to develop the Monash Transport Interchange at the Clayton campus. • Prioritising the Melbourne Metro rail project as Victoria’s next major infrastructure project. • Ensuring land-use policy around university campuses supports higher density, affordable rental housing. National Employment and Innovation Clusters and the underpinning polycentric model on which they were based was adopted in Plan Melbourne 2017–2050.15 A new Transport Interchange at the University (now the busiest in Greater Melbourne16) was delivered soon thereafter. Later projects on campus include the Victorian Heart Hospital and Moderna MRNA production

Driving innovation and equity in the 21st-century Australian city  277 facility. The new Melbourne Metro (to be opened in 2025), known by some as the University Line, was declared a priority in the Plan and links the Western suburbs and Footscray campus of Victoria University with the new $5.5Bn sub-acute health and research campus at Arden a short three-minute trip from the Parkville NEIC, and RMIT’s historic and City-North Innovation campuses extending to Monash’s campus at Caufield to the southeast. Building on this new dynamic, a new Metropolitan Radial Suburban Rail Loop (SRL) is now under development that will deliver two stations in the Monash NEIC linked to neighbouring Universities, Hospitals, Activity Centres Clusters, and four arterial rail corridors. Setting up the innovation precinct for success Governance and delivery

An overlooked but critical element of successful Innovation Precincts, such as Monash, has been the development of clear governance frameworks that define the stewardship, capital and project priorities, decision-making pathways, and accountability for the implementation of masterplans (see Figure 21.2). Equally critical has been the monitoring and annual reporting of masterplan progress to the University Council against these agreed targets regularly to both build on successes and address shortcomings.

Figure 21.2  The Monash governance model.

278  R. McGauran Understanding best practice and its dynamism

Competition for talent, effectively leveraging the University’s strengths including its global reach, its diverse exceptional and large talent pool of staff and students, and mature and expanding industry partnerships, required matching ambition for an enabling campus organisation, identity, accessibility, and experience. Visits to more than 200 of the world’s best campuses and almost double that number of urban renewal precincts, combined with recurrent engagement with the key delivery agencies, creators, and stakeholders, enabled us to understand their success journeys, their learnings, and their future challenges. Collectively, the insights we gained have been a key enabling tool for us to assist Monash in the successful reimagination of the campus. Overlaying world-best exemplar insights, with the distinctive ambitions, strengths, and challenges of Monash and the place and city it occupies, remains a foundation to the success of the Monash Innovation Precinct. The precinct plan as a physical manifestation of the organisational vision

Innovation Precincts require alignment of the Physical Masterplan and its DNA with the strategic vision of the participating organisations. Success lies in the physical manifestation of these institutional goals and their coalescence. Monash, as Australia’s most outward looking University, seeks to engage in the wicked problems of our time. These problems are both local and global and typically multidisciplinary in nature. The main Post War Clayton Campus was historically arranged as a cluster of introverted disciplinary silos, encircled by car parking, and permeated by roads that prioritised the convenience of the motorist. A ring road encased these activities and amplified the separation of the core campus from neighbouring student colleges, sports, and CSIRO precincts and enterprises. Campus investment drawn from an inadequate budget surplus, relied on the politic of a fiefdom of Deans without clear decision-making structures and controls. The ambition to prepare students for the new conceptual age through a broadened and rich tertiary undergraduate experience of double degrees, deep immersion in university life, and enhanced opportunities for industry engagement required a radical shift. This could only occur through commitment to the Masterplan and its governance by the leadership, and this, in turn, required the Strategic Plan to be embodied in the plan. The Campus Masterplan then became the tool through which the organisation’s plan could be realised. Be careful to plan for success

On these regular international visits, a typical regret from those responsible for the implementation of innovation agendas for cities and campuses have had, was that they had underestimated the potential for success and the consequent need for space that success might generate. Many lamented that they have run out of space as the neighbourhoods around them have quickly attracted private sector investment and development at the same time that the dynamic research and partnership of their making has become exponential in impact and growth. Local examples at Parkville and the University precinct in central Sydney have seen similar competition for land emerge. Enduring success has occurred where transformation is accompanied by a set of planning tools and projects that continue to support:

• A diversity of enterprise scales and maturities. • An enterprise and institutional ecosystem that supports pathways of ideas and incubation into commercialisation and enterprise.

Driving innovation and equity in the 21st-century Australian city  279

• Blurring of the boundaries between University and Precinct in models where partner enterprises are embedded within the university and vice versa.

• A substantial portfolio of affordable rental housing and workspaces, along with the expansion of high-quality essential services such as Child Care, Kindergarten & P-12 education.

• Placemaking acknowledges the critical role of amenity and programming of places to cata-

lyse curiosity, build the strength of community and relationships, and enable people to find their tribe. • Enhanced local and metropolitan high speed and capacity PT connections and services. Examples of success include the Berkeley start-up cluster,17 a collaboration between the city, local landowners, and the university to retain and nurture alumni and their ideas with the second largest startup outputs of any American University. A state sponsored example is the JTC Corporation, a development corporation of the Singapore Government, entrusted with building the startup and innovation of the Singapore City State with initiatives such as Create.18 Creating a compelling narrative – vision and principles

An often-used quote in the office is one from Nelson Henderson, “The true meaning of life is to plant trees, under whose shade you do not expect to sit.” This quote underlined the critical importance of getting the right structure in place and committing to it from the beginning. At Monash, it meant immediate and continuing investment in a city-scaled campus of over 70 hectares with a city referenced primary walking network. This network connected key places of significance, new and old, in a way that effectively narrated the purpose and ambition of the university. It sought to invest these new streets and connections with the indigenous landscape experiences, diverse cultural stories, and amenity that authentically, and sometimes playfully and irreverently connected the campus to its location and time. The interfacing buildings and bespoke places aim to invite curiosity and interaction with the repurposed and new ground planes. New student accommodation is configured along one of these walks – College Walk and configured in a form that linked perimeter college and sports precincts to the core. Buildings that blocked connections between important neighbours, were boldly cropped, and reimagined or demolished to emphatically support the purpose and vision. New buildings and spaces have deliberately blurred traditional faculty boundaries both programmatically and physically. Many buildings embedded new locations for social interaction and collaboration, new external learning and integrated art and parkland spaces, replacing car and service dominated zones (see Figure 21.3). A comprehensive suite of well-understood master plan guidelines and controls

A suite of supporting development guidelines and strategies for buildings and development, landscapes, parking, retail, First Nation narratives, research, integrated art, sustainability and signage, and training in their governance and application have ensued. These documents are supported by Briefing and Consultant selection procedures that ensure gender equity and diversity, design excellence, and that alignment with masterplan goals are consistently realised. A highly skilled and appropriately resourced delivery team with clear chains of command is in place to implement the rolling capital plan with support from the University Architect (a position initially filled by MGS for the first five years of implementation).

280  R. McGauran

Figure 21.3  Monash precinct principles.

A series of both big and little moves

The plan is underpinned by both key bold and small moves. Big moves included important new gateway buildings central to Monash’s precinct mission and engagement agenda. They are located at key entrances to the primary walks and arrival points of welcome to campus and include the Victorian Heart Hospital to the east, the new Learning and Teaching Building and Bus interchange to the south, and the New Horizons Physics research partnership with CSIRO to the northern campus edge. Important intersections within the campus are the location of key nodes of housing, collaborative research, learning, resource centres, university life, and services that speak to the University Vision. Through the integration of its Academic, Research, and Masterplan strategies, Monash has sought to reconfigure its pedagogical and research ecosystem to prioritise enriched peer-to-peer engagement, campus life, and leverage of technology (see Figure 21.4). Through its programming of spaces and integration of places for events, performance, exhibition, integrated art, and play, it has mapped a framework celebrating the purposeful play of ideas, creative insights, and shared and individual experiences that together shave ought to deliver a campus with embedded empathy and meaning. Conclusion The success of Innovation Precincts draws on a common magic mix, delivered in differing quantities dependant on context but typically evident in all. The mix includes:

• Effective configuration to support and connect high concentrations of diverse talent and nurture a strong sense of identity, a rich and vibrant precinct cultural, social, and creative life.

• Effective Leadership and governance to guide precinct-wide coordinated, programming, investment for purpose.

Driving innovation and equity in the 21st-century Australian city  281

Figure 21.4  The Monash Clayton Campus – from and to.

• A shared Town and Gown identity that nurtures the distinctive and differing contribution to the city and community of University, Community, Government, and Enterprise partners.

• Complimentary and interconnected, well-designed, loose-fit, and sustainable learning, teach• • • • •

ing, research, and enterprise buildings and synergistic external spaces that have long life and facilitate continual readaptation. Facilitation of affordable and diverse workplaces accommodating enterprises of varied sizes, needs, and stages in their development. Places for lifelong learning and collaboration enabling the workforce to reskill and reimagine in response to future challenges. Well-designed affordable and diverse homes in higher density neighbourhoods that support the vitality, safety, and competitiveness of the precinct supported by high quality Community Infrastructure. Curation and design of precincts, streets, and spaces that support an ecosystem of diversity, sustainability and resilience, optimism and sharing of ideas. The visibility and early inclusion of great public and active interconnecting the precinct to the surrounding neighbourhoods and the city.

Australian cities are well-placed to leverage the capacity of a well-educated population and their proximity to great tertiary health and university institutions. Together they can be the catalysts for exciting amplification of the impact of existing Innovation Clusters and the development of new precincts. This section outlines precinct exemplars globally and nationally and the skills and key ingredients necessary for their delivery. Notes 1 McGauran, Robert, op cit. 2 Pink, Daniel, A Whole New Mind – Why Right Brainers Will Rule the Future. P 2Riverhead Books New York 2005 p 49. 3 Pink, Daniel H. Ibid.

282  R. McGauran 4 https://www.abs.gov.au/statistics/people/housing/housing-occupancy-and-costs/2019-20 5 SGS Economics Rental Affordability Index Report key findings, November 2022. 6 Naylor, Catherine, https://www.smh.com.au/national/nsw/houses-to-remain-in-flood-zone-under-lismorebuy-back-scheme-20220807-p5b7vl.html 7 https://immi.homeaffairs.gov.au/what-we-do/migration-program-planning-levels 8 https://use.metropolis.org/case-studies/22-barcelona 9 $14.6Bn of private investment https://www.development.vic.gov.au/projects/docklands?page=overview 10 https://www.abs.gov.au/census/find-census-data/quickstats/2016/SSC20760#:~:text=In%20the%20 2016%20Census%2C%20there,up%200.2%25%20of%20the%20population.&text=The%20 median%20age%20of%20people%20in%20Docklands%20was%2030%20years 11 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alfred_Felton#cite_note-Report-3 12 https://www.timeshighereducation.com/student/best-universities/best-universities-australia 13 https://www.shanghairanking.com/rankings/arwu/2010 and https://www.timeshighereducation.com/ world-university-rankings/monash-university 14 P46 and pp 50 and 54, Melbourne Let’s Talk about the Future, Ministerial Advisory Committee for the Metropolitan Planning Strategy for Melbourne 2012. 15 P27, Plan Melbourne 2017–2050 Outcome 1. 16 https://philipmallis.com/blog/2020/07/21/where-are-the-busiest-bus-stops-in-melbourne/ 17 https://berkeleystartupcluster.com/about-berkeley-startup-cluster/ 18 https://www.create.edu.sg/#:~:text=Welcome%20to%20CREATE,research%20centres%20from%20 top%20universities

22

Flagship architecture and city branding Amparo Tarazona Vento

Introduction Cities are collective works of human creativity, not only because they are complex technical achievements but because they are carriers of imaginaries, cultures, and ways of life too. Their more emblematic pieces of architecture embody the aesthetic values, socio-economic paradigms, and the more advanced knowledge of their time. Cities are also places of cultural creation; places of increased interaction and exchange, where economic, social, and political innovation occurs. Under globalization, architecture and urban space have become ever more important from an economic perspective since through inter-urban competition, place distinctiveness has become an economic asset. Thus, place promotion, city marketing, and city branding, understood as forms of place making, have captured urban collective imagination and creativity to use it as a tool for economic development. City branding—considered the most evolved and comprehensive approach to the promotion of cities (Ma et al. 2021)—involves “a process of urban transformation through self-reinvention” (Ma et al. 2021:4). Flagship architecture—often in the form of cultural venues—has become a key element within such process of reinvention (Dudek-Mańkowska & Grochowski, 2019; Bonakdar and Audirac, 2020). Taking a historical approach to the use of flagship architecture for economic regeneration is helpful to understand from an empirical perspective the connections between architecture, city branding, culture-led urban regeneration, and the political economy of city making more widely, and the evolution of these connections over time. Moreover, it offers an insight into how modelling and travelling of ideas have contributed to the widespread use of urban policies involving the use of flagship architecture. In their competitive attempts, cities look to each other for inspiration and as a reference to compare themselves to. Although older examples remain in the imaginaries of policymakers and politicians alike, new contemporary models continue to be added to the repertory of policy ideas and increasingly become the blueprints on which any aspiring city models its branding and economic regeneration strategies. Towards a flagship-architecture-led urban regeneration Flagship architecture has long been linked to the regeneration of cities not only physically but economically too. Already in the late 1800s, the ethos of the City Beautiful movement was to use “planning for display, architecture as theatre, design intended to impress” Hall (2002: 217). But also, more in line with the objectives of contemporary entrepreneurial civic boosters, as Daniel Burnham, the architect in charge of the construction of the expo argued, beautifying Chicago would attract affluent visitors who would readily spend their money in the city, creating what nowadays would be described as a trickle-down effect (Hall, 2002). DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-25

284  A. T. Vento Beyond the Beautiful City movement, American cities can be considered the birthplace of the use of flagship projects for urban regeneration and city promotion. Starting in the 1960s and mainly during the 1970s and 1980s, as a response to deindustrialization and the fiscal problems and unemployment associated with it, many cities in the United States and Canada—for instance, New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Atlanta, and Toronto—came up with “entrepreneurial strategies” for economic regeneration (Levine, 1987; Carrière and Demazière, 2002). The idea was to publicly subsidize and incentivize private developers to turn downtowns from declining manufacturing and retail areas into what Levine (1987) has called “modern corporate centers”, with the aim of attracting private investment in competition with other cities. Thus, the public administrations invested in flagship projects, that is, developments, usually with a high symbolic capacity, such as convention centres, museums, stadiums, tourist attractions, upscale shopping malls, luxury housing, office complexes, and hotels, which, although not necessarily a profitable initial investment in themselves, were expected to act as catalysts for regeneration by signalling the area as safe for investment (Harvey, 1989; Doucet et al., 2011). Flagship projects were expected to reimage not only the area where they were located but also the whole city. In addition, they were expected to attract tourists, improve the tax base, stimulate economic activity, and trickle down the economic benefits (Loftman and Nevin, 1995; Doucet et al., 2011). The most well-known case of the use of this strategy is Baltimore’s early-1970s pro-business and boosterist plan to redevelop the city’s inner harbour and waterfront area in partnership with the private sector. The feature for which Baltimore’s regeneration is best known is the successful use of public investment, including subsidies from the federal and state governments, to lever private investment. Thus, substantial public funds were used to subsidize the building of attractions including aquariums, marinas, a science centre, a convention centre, and shopping arcades to, subsequently, let the private sector take the initiative (Merrifield, 1993). By the 1980s, private investment already accounted for around 90% of the investment in the inner harbour area (Levine, 1987). Tourists had started to flock into the area and the hotel and convention business was booming (Levine, 1987). In contrast with this image of success and prosperity of downtown Baltimore, the loss of jobs, impoverishment, and deterioration of the city as a whole continued to increase apace (Levine, 1987; Harvey, 1989). However, despite severe criticisms from the academic sphere, Baltimore’s downtown redevelopment—in particular, its use of public expenditure to leverage private investment and its strategy of using the public-private partnership approach—became widely circulated as a successful model of regeneration (Levine, 1987; Harvey, 1989). Together with Boston’s and Toronto’s similar strategies, Baltimore’s became one of the models that elicited more replicas, not only in North America but also in the rest of the Western world and further afield. In the early 1980s, American property-led regeneration strategies travelled first to Britain and shortly afterwards to mainland Europe (Loftman and Nevin, 1995). Not surprisingly, faced with similar urban problems to those of their American counterparts and constrained by a national urban policy that prompted local authorities to compete for private investment, British decisionmakers turned their gaze to the other side of the Atlantic in their search for solutions. Attracted by the images of success, soon, cities such as Birmingham, Liverpool, Manchester, Cardiff, and Sheffield had their own prestige projects. By the early 1990s, any urban regeneration strategy worth its salt included a flagship project (Loftman and Nevin, 1995; Miles, 2007). Given that one of the main goals of prestige projects was to reimage the city where they were located by making claims about its cultural status, cultural venues, typically designed by high-profile architects, became one of the most common types of prestige project (Evans, 2003;

Flagship architecture and city branding  285 Miles, 2007; Grodach and Loukaitou-Sideris, 2007). In this way, cultural strategies and citymarketing strategies converged in the construction of prestige cultural venues designed by highprofile architects. Therefore, not only were cities rebranded, but also the property-led strategy of using prestige projects as a motor of change was rebranded as culture-led regeneration. It was, in fact, the criticisms of property-led regeneration strategies—namely their excessive focus on land and property markets rather than communities (Loftman and Nevin, 1995)—that caused there to be a shift of focus toward “cultural strategies”, which, although often based on cultural prestige projects were, nonetheless, supposed to address better social issues of equity. Thus, starting in the 1980s but particularly in the early 1990s, in the UK and in Europe more generally, there was a considerable growth of urban cultural strategies (Bassett, 1993; Loftman and Nevin, 1995). These strategies combined “cultural goals” with property-led regeneration. In this way, cultural policy came to be regarded as a tool for local economic development rather than as “a mechanism to enhance community development and encourage social participation” (García, 2004). Again, this was not new but was inspired by earlier patterns in the United States. Propertyled regeneration strategies included cultural facilities and incorporated a program of cultural events, including street festivals and fairs, to increase the attractiveness of the city to visitors who would spend money there (Whitt, 1987). More specifically, as early as the 1960s, US arts coalitions—formed by arts organizations, banks, developers, corporations, and local government decision-makers—had argued that the arts could be used to combine city marketing and economic development goals with urban revitalization, and to create a focus on community cohesion and regeneration (Bassett, 1993). By the 1970s, many American cities, with the support of the different tiers of government and in partnership with the private sector, were using the arts as a tool for economic development or, in Whitt’s (1987: 16) words, were “using the arts in attempts to spur central-city redevelopment, to attract new businesses, and to compete more effectively with other cities and with their own suburbs”. Cases in point are The Lincoln Centre in New York in the 1950s, the Los Angeles Music Center in the 1960s, and the Dallas Arts District in the 1980s (Whitt, 1987; Grodach and Loukaitou-Sideris, 2007). Therefore, almost from the very beginning, culture was a key element of urban regeneration strategies. In fact, the idea of using the arts as a tool for urban regeneration had first been “explicitly imported into Britain in the 1980s through conferences and publications” (Bassett, 1993). Later on, from the mid-1990s, the European Union, sanctioning the idea as good, promoted it by allocating substantial amounts of money to be spent in cultural projects as part of its regional development strategy (Evans, 2003). Not surprisingly, the use of cultural policy as a tool for economic regeneration with a special focus on the construction of high-profile cultural venues rapidly became widespread. As new museums and cultural facilities were built or expanded throughout the Western world, urban regeneration projects also became more and more spectacular and often superficial (Granger, 2010). Increasingly, the symbolism and iconicity of the architecture—or of the architect—­ became more important than the content of the building itself. It is this symbolism that attracts visitors and that, therefore, is meant to “generate revenue” and “prosperity to the city”. Thus, city branding became an ever-more important element of urban regeneration, or in other words, “the demand for instant fame and economic growth” became more impelling (Jencks, 2005: 7), and in consequence, flagship projects by star architects were increasingly included in culture-led regeneration strategies. But the use of emblematic architecture as part of an economic-growth and place-branding strategy also had an early precursor as well as influential example in the European context: the

286  A. T. Vento “Grands Projects Culturelles”, which are a series of Parisian landmark architectural projects that high-profile international architects were commissioned to design by President Francois Mitterrand between the 1970s and the early 1990s. These included, for instance, the New Louvre by I. M. Pei, the Opéra Bastille, by Carlos Ott, and the Bibliothèque Nationale de France, by Dominique Perrault. The aim of this extensive building program was to consolidate the prestige of Paris as an international cultural capital and as a symbol of French identity that could also compete for economic activity as a post-industrial city (Evans, 2003; Jones, 2011). Not surprisingly, the spectacularity of the “Grands Projects Culturelles” captured the imagination of many politicians, who used them as an inspiration for their own urban regeneration policies. Paris is, however, a big European capital city with a considerable and unique architectural heritage that grants them an unquestionable cultural profile. In contrast, cities such as Baltimore or Glasgow, with a heritage mostly built on the affluence arising from a bygone industrial era, were more eager to establish new cultural credentials as well as to transform their industrial economic base. Glasgow was not only considered a grey, declining post-industrial city and an extreme case of economic and demographic decline after deindustrialization but also, to some extent, a newcomer in terms of cultural credentials and consequently more reliant on a new prestige project. It is therefore not surprising that it was one of the first British and European cities to import the idea of civic boosterism from the United States and was a pioneer in implementing a citymarketing campaign, which became a model for others to emulate (Hambleton, 1991; Bassett, 1993). From the early 1980s, the city implemented a series of city-marketing campaigns to improve a negative image that was considered to be a deterrent for investment (Paddison, 1993). The first promotional campaign, which used the slogan “Glasgow’s Miles Better”, was inspired by New York’s experience and was directed as much to improve the local population’s self-esteem and show that the council was working to improve the city’s problems as to market the city externally (Paddison, 1993). Over time, the marketing strategy developed from more indirect promotion into a more targeted type of marketing, while the entrepreneurial strategy turned its focus toward culture, architecture, and the arts as a means to establish a post-industrial economy and counter Glasgow’s negative identity (Paddison, 1993; Granger, 2010). Giving a boost to its culture-led regeneration program, the city was designated European Cultural Capital in 1990 as part of the European City of Culture scheme. Glasgow was not the first city to obtain the status of cultural capital from Brussels, but it was the first one to use this nomination to push forward its urban regeneration strategy through arranging cultural activities and the construction of infrastructure and cultural venues (García, 2004). The city’s experience transformed the perception of the European City of Culture program and competitor cities started to view the designation as an opportunity to brand the city and to secure public funding for their urban regeneration initiatives (Evans, 2003; García, 2004). Indeed, as a result of Glasgow’s regeneration efforts, there was a substantial growth in urban tourism and a positive change in the perception of the city. The reality of the city, however, several commentators complained, did not correspond with the image of regeneration given; the suburbs continued to suffer from unemployment, overall intense social deprivation, and a widening gap between the poor and the affluent (Paddison, 1993; Granger, 2010). Anyhow, the most emblematic example of a city that linked the hosting of an international event with its urban regeneration program was, without a doubt, Barcelona and its use of the 1992 Olympic Games as a catalyst for urban regeneration. Taking advantage of its designation as an Olympic host the city secured funding from the central and regional governments to start a spectacular urban transformation that included new transport and telecommunications

Flagship architecture and city branding  287 infrastructures and public amenities, the renovation of the waterfront, and the opening up of new areas of the city for development (Degen and García, 2012). Drawing on American models and as part of the project for the Olympic Village, 130 hectares at the waterfront were earmarked for redevelopment and were transformed into a leisure area that includes a marina, an auditorium, a shopping mall, offices and restaurants, an aquarium, and a conference centre (Jauhiainen, 1995). Flagship architecture had a central role in Barcelona’s regeneration program. Although the council also encouraged the participation of local architectural practices in the Olympic project, emphasis was placed on the use of emblematic architecture by recognizable global architects—for instance, Richard Meier’s Museum of Contemporary Art and Norman Foster’s Telecommunications Tower (Moix, 1994). The transformation of Barcelona, showcased to the world during the 1992 Olympics, was indeed spectacular. The city’s regeneration strategy was criticized for its emphasis on image and for fostering gentrification processes, contributing to the creation of a dispersed urban region (Monclús, 2003). However, the Barcelona approach to regeneration—especially the use of a high-profile event to trigger regeneration and the emphasis on good urban design and emblematic architecture to signify the city as a city of culture and design—inspired the regeneration strategies of many other cities. The Barcelona model was actively exported internationally and promoted through publications, reports, talks, and consultation work for different cities, for instance, Lisbon for its Expo ‘98 project (Monclús, 2003) and Rio de Janeiro for its Olympic project (Silvestre, 2013). Barcelona was also a model for the design-led regeneration in Britain that came to be known as the urban renaissance (Ward, 2004). Like Barcelona, Rotterdam also used good urban design and architecture as a key element of its regeneration strategy. In 1986, as part of the larger regeneration strategy of the city, the local government decided to create a new 125-hectare urban quarter, the Kop van Zuid, in the old docklands opposite the city centre. Since the city centre lacked an attractive architectural heritage—which had been widely destroyed during the WWII bombing raids—the emphasis was placed on striking futuristic architecture. Thus, in addition to the Erasmus Bridge, the symbolic element used to indicate to private developers that the area was safe to invest in (Doucet et al., 2011), many of the buildings in Kop van Zuid were designed by high-profile architects, including the World Port Centre by Sir Norman Foster and the telecom headquarters by Renzo Piano. Rotterdam’s innovation, however, was to combine in its regeneration strategy entrepreneurial objectives with specific planning for social goals. Although the primary objective was to improve the city’s position internationally, there was recognition from the beginning that placing a high-end development side by side with the city’s most deprived neighbourhoods—the ones that had been most affected by the closure of the docklands, with high rates of unemployment and crime and low rates of educational attainment—could be problematic and that the benefits generated by the new development should be spread to the surrounding poorer areas and residents, not least to ensure that the regeneration project was well received by them (Cadell et al., 2008; Doucet et al., 2011). In order to secure a social return, the Mutual Benefit program was developed, funded by the local government and EU funds. The program aimed to make it easy to give the jobs that the new development generated to the local population. The social goals were, nevertheless, secondary and entailed mainly that an effort was made to make certain that a trickledown effect took place because it was recognized that this would not happen automatically. Kop van Zuid was a success in terms of attracting economic activity and changing the image of Rotterdam, which came to be known as “Manhattan on the Maas” and earned the title of European Capital of Culture in 2001. The deprived neighbourhoods adjacent to the new development benefited from improved accessibility and public passport connectivity, and better local confidence (Cadell et al., 2008; Doucet, 2012). However, despite the efforts, the number

288  A. T. Vento of jobs that the new development generated for local residents was well below that expected. As a result, the integration of the local population through participation in the economy continued to be relatively low (Cadell et al., 2008). Even capital cities like London, which was not an old industrial centre, adhered to the trend of using iconic architecture for economic regeneration purposes. In the 1990s, there were concerns in London about the city losing its competitive edge over other European cities—such as, according to the secretary of state for the environment, Paris, Frankfurt, Barcelona, and Berlin—that were using entrepreneurial strategies to attract investment (Thornley, 2000). The Millennium Dome in London, designed by Pritzker Prize–winner Richard Rogers, was one of the key projects with which the central government wanted to promote London and the UK globally and mark the start of the new millennium. The Dome was a state-led attempt both at icon-led regeneration and at representing a modernized and multicultural national identity, a “Cool Britannia” brand, symbol of a new economy focused on cultural production and away from manufacturing (Jones, 2011). Yet, the project was a financial failure, and for many it “came to symbolize a crisis in state-led British identity” (Jones, 2011: 89). The landmark building, however, that inaugurated the era of the global flagship building was the Guggenheim Museum of modern and contemporary art in Bilbao. Designed by Californiabased architect Frank Gehry, Bilbao’s Guggenheim is considered the first building that, with over one million visitors in its first year, managed, on its own, to reimage a city and put it on the map of global cultural tourism (Evans, 2003). The Guggenheim was the centrepiece of the wider Strategic Plan for the Revitalization of Metropolitan Bilbao, devised by the Basque regional government in 1991 to tackle the city’s economic and reputation problems. After learning that Thomas Krens, the Guggenheim’s director, planned to establish a franchise with museums all over the world, the Basque regional government informed the art institution of its interest. In 1994, a final agreement between the two parties—stipulating a fee of $20 million for the franchise, a budget of $100 million for a landmark building, and a fund to build up a new collection—was signed (McNeill, 2009). Following a closed design competition with three participants—Frank Gehry, Coop Himmelb(l) au, and Arata Isozaki—Gehry, the architect favoured by Krens, won the commission (McNeill, 2009; Adam, 2012). Somewhat ironically, the museum, a franchise of a Manhattan-based art foundation designed by a California-based star architect (McNeill, 2009), besides being a prominent representative of global iconic architecture was at the same time a symbol of Basque identity, of the nationalist regional government’s conscious construction of a new image of a region that was leaving behind a violent past and was embracing modernity (Keating and de Franz, 2004: McNeill, 2009). Although the opposition parties and the local artistic community were concerned about what was perceived as American cultural imperialism, for the regional government, this new identity matched well with their nationalist-separatist ambitions (McNeill, 2009). With its random, undulating titanium-clad surfaces dominating the Nervion River, the daring and sculptural Guggenheim Museum has been hailed since its opening in 1997 as an architectural masterpiece. It has also been a success in terms of visitors. In its first year, it attracted 1.3 million visitors, mainly from abroad (Jones, 2011: 116), and by 2000 it had already reached 3 million (Jones, 2011). Almost immediately, Bilbao’s Guggenheim became a global symbol, the ultimate example of architectural icon-based regeneration. The critical voices, complaining that the public money invested in the project could have been used to fund local cultural production and a network of local museums, or that the focus should have been on improving the local population’s quality of life of the more generally rather than on the iconicity of the building, had only limited local resonance (McNeill, 2009; Jones, 2011). Indeed, the extravagant building

Flagship architecture and city branding  289 became more famous than its contents. In fact, of the 1.3 million visitors the museum received in its first year, 70% reported having gone to see Gehry’s bold sculptural piece of architecture rather than the exhibits that it houses (Jones, 2011). The building had an important impact on urban regeneration/city branding practice; after its opening in 1997, almost every city trying to climb the urban hierarchy and turn around its fortune would refer to the “Bilbao effect”. City administrators and decision makers worldwide tried, with different degrees of success, to replicate the success of the Guggenheim by commissioning star architects to design museums and cultural facilities in the expectation that the spectacularity of the architecture would perform the regeneration miracle and put their city on the map. In Europe, to name but a few examples, Peter Cook and Colin Fournier were commissioned to design the Graz Art Museum, whose extravagant form earned it the nickname the “Friendly Alien”, while in 2005, the Pritzker Prize–winner SANAA was commissioned to design the New Louvre at Lens, to reverse the old mining city’s fortunes. In the United States between 1998 and 2000, more than 150 museums were built or expanded. In 2001, the projects for new museums included one large new one for every two states (Evans, 2003). Some examples are an addition to the Milwaukee Art Museum by Santiago Calatrava, opened in 2001, and the Hamilton Building at the Denver Art Museum by Daniel Libeskind, a spectacular building opened in 2006 and, like Bilbao’s Guggenheim, clad in titanium. Thus, the strategy of using cultural prestige projects—albeit this time reimaged as icon-led regeneration and often making express reference to the “Guggenheim effect”—made its way back to the other side of the Atlantic. The iconic museum fever was far from over in the first decades of the 21st century and was expanding geographically, with signature-architecture museums and other cultural venues linked to rebranding strategies opening around the world. In China, around 1,400 art museums, including private and state-owned museums, were built between 2000 and 2011, many of them designed by high-profile international architects (Jacobson, 2013). Perhaps even more surprising than the sheer number of new museums is the fact that, illustrating the trend toward an increased importance of external image versus content, many of them did not have predetermined collections nor anything to display to start with (The Economist, 2014). A very brief overview of examples of commissions for cultural venues by global architects takes us not only to China but to a range of very diverse locations. For instance, Herzog & de Meuron’s Kolkata Museum of Modern Art (KMOMA), the Museum of Islamic Art in Doha, Qatar, designed by Pritzker Prize–winning architect I. M. Pei. opened in 2008 as part of the ambitious multifront branding strategy of the Middle-Eastern country (Peterson, 2006), and the Hanoi Museum, a spectacular building in the shape of an inverted pyramid, designed by GMP Architects, was inaugurated in 2010 as part of Vietnam’s millennial celebrations for the foundation of its capital city (Sutherland, 2005). Innovative approaches to city branding? We have seen an evolution toward the inclusion in regeneration strategies of increasingly spectacular and often banal architectural flagships to the point that their use “has become a nearubiquitous place-marketing strategy in post-industrial cities” (Balke et al., 2018: 1000). In this evolution, the icon status of the building and the stararchitect credentials of its designer have become paramount, leaving issues of social utility even more in the background than before. This is seen very clearly in the case of museums where, as expressed by Schubert (2000: 98 in Evans, 2003), the architectural statement made by the building often means that “the museum

290  A. T. Vento as cultural status symbol can shift the emphasis onto the building and its symbolic meaning to a degree to where what is inside hardly seems to matter at all”. Not surprisingly, city branding has received much academic criticism. In addition to diverting public expenditure into speculative image construction (Ward, 1998) cities involved in branding practice are accused of trying to differentiate themselves by focusing on surface rather than content, achieving in this way a superficial place identity that ends up giving marketed places a sense of homogeneity (Philo and Kearns, 1993; Knox and Pain, 2010), what Harvey (1989) has called serial reproduction, and Rossi (2017) “Guggenheimization”. There are, however, more positive visions of city branding. For some commentators, the place identities created by branding strategies and their attached architectural flagships are not always disconnected from the residents’ sense of identity (Hoekstra, 2020). According to ­Lindsay (2018), iconic architecture’s capacity to embody overlapping meanings can instead contribute to the generation of local identities based on the residents’ local memories and experiences. In her own words, “innovative designs which are not tied to historical symbolism can allow people to make up their own meaning and offer a common language for diverse populations” (Lindsay, 2018: 196). Bonakdar and Audirac (2020) argue that current understandings of city branding are more aligned with an approach to placemaking practice that fosters proactive bottom-up and contextspecific identity formation. According to them, urban planning and city branding are interconnected activities that shape urban imaginaries (Bonakdar and Audirac, 2020). They, however, recognize that, just as participatory planning does, participatory city brand formation faces challenges such as unequal participation, tokenism, commodification, and prioritization of growth over social objectives (Bonakdar and Audirac, 2020). Along these lines, Jokela (2020) presents the case of Helsinki as an example of recent more participatory forms of city branding, defended by more progressive scholars, branding practitioners, and city governments—a bottom-up process that promotes experimentation and unlocks the creativity of the wider public. In Helsinki, the construction of a branch of the Guggenheim Museum to brand the city was rejected and “the city council decided to focus instead on local residents’ initiatives and experimentations as the foundation of an attractive city brand” (Jokela, 2020: 2035). Whether these more progressive approaches represent a shift of paradigm and a general move away from urban regeneration based on the use of flagship architecture remains to be seen. In any case, beyond the challenges in economic (prioritization of growth and diversion of funds from welfare), cultural (elitism and commodification of culture), and governance (topdown elitist decision-making) terms, urban regeneration policies based on the use of flagship architecture and city branding present related risks from a creativity perspective. First, they raise questions about to what extent branded cities can be truly seen as works of collective creation rather than presenting to the world a manufactured image managed by place entrepreneurs. Therefore, can or should the complexity of a city be reduced to a brand? Similarly, mirroring the critiques to a star architecture system that results in a homogeneity derived from a tight group of architects building iconic cultural projects around the world, there is the associated risk of focusing on the iconic city at the expense of the everyday city, or, in Koch’s (2018) words “the unspectacular other”. Creativity is thus left to a few selected individualities rather than becoming a collective endeavour. From a more pragmatic perspective, this raises questions about how the creativity of wider groups can be engaged in advancing innovative policy solutions to urban problems rather than, often uncritically, resourcing to the use of globally mobile policy models.

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23

The corporate campus D.J. Huppatz

Introduction In the past decade, three of the largest companies in the world have designed and built new headquarters in Northern California’s Silicon Valley: Apple Park (2017), Facebook’s MPK21 (2018), and Google’s Mountain View and Charleston East (2022). Designed by globally renowned architectural firms, each company claims its new headquarters reimagines the corporate campus as a new type of workplace, integrating technology, creativity, and sustainability. While these new campuses built upon 20th-century models, they also introduced new approaches and ideas. The first is that they draw upon the language of urbanism, structured via internal streets, plazas, and town halls; the second is a holistic emphasis on sustainability; and finally, a new approach to workplace design, emphasizing innovation and collaboration. This chapter analyzes the corporate campus as an architectural type, a branding device, and an internal mechanism of corporate organization. While researchers of both space and organizational culture have long recognized that a corporate headquarters’ appearance, spatial planning, and interior design comprise a set of cultural symbols (Berg and Kreiner, 1990; Dale and Burrell, 2003), more recently, architects, designers, and organizations have proposed ways in which a campus might better shape corporate culture and values. This represents a shift from a vision of corporate architecture as “clean, organized, impersonal, silent and above all, empty” (Kersten and Gilardi, 2003) to workplaces designed around staff aspirations, collaboration, and innovation. The 20th-century corporate campus In Pastoral Capitalism: A History of Suburban Corporate Landscapes, Mozingo (2011), traced the development of the corporate campus to precedents such as the research facilities of Bell Labs in New Jersey (1942) and the headquarters for the Connecticut Life Insurance company (1957). She noted the numerous advantages of suburban campuses as compared to city headquarters: large tracts of inexpensive land without complex zoning or building regulations; safety and security; and offices embedded in a pastoral landscape. Architects and management alike believed employees worked more productively and creatively in natural surroundings (­ Mozingo, 2011: 36). Detached from the chaos of urban life, the corporate campus also aligned with an American ideal of the university—an informal place for intellectual inquiry, free of distractions in spacious parklands (Muthesius, 2001). For staff, beyond simply offices, the corporate campus provided leisure facilities and service provisions such as cafeterias, games parlors, sports centers, hairdressers, and laundry services. The Connecticut Life Insurance Company (1957) was typical of the modernist campuses of the postwar era: a series of glass-and-steel boxes designed by architect Gordon Bunshaft of DOI: 10.4324/9781003292821-26

294  D.J. Huppatz Skidmore, Owings and Merrill (SOM), sitting in a bucolic landscape designed by Joanna Diman (also of SOM). Florence Knoll’s interior design emphasized rational order, with standardized office furniture in neat rows, a minimal color scheme, and functional fittings and fixtures. SOM designed the campus as an integrated whole that incorporated architecture, landscape, interior, and furniture design, a unified system founded upon a grid that determined everything from the planning of buildings to the interior details (Havenhand, 2019: 105–127). For the designers, the campus was “a realization of the Taylorist aesthetic fetishized by interwar architects” (Lange, 2005: vi), while for Connecticut General Life Insurance, it projected a technologically advanced, progressive, efficient corporate image. Internally, although the campus’ standardized design suggested an equitable workplace, the upper management of Connecticut General Life Insurance—all male—occupied private offices furnished to their own tastes on the top floors (Kerr et al, 2016). Below, the 1200 predominantly female staff sat at standard desks on open-plan floors. In this way, the buildings “enveloped rigid corporate and gender divisions” (Mozingo, 2000: 34). As modernist architectural ideals gave way to postmodernism in the 1980s and 1990s, campus design changed. Architects and designers sought not the neutral, universal aesthetic of modernism but distinctive forms and colors that could project recognizable symbols and corporate brands (Kerr et al, 2016). This shift into architectural postmodernism (Jencks, 1977) brought a new emphasis on corporate branding via iconic buildings (Jencks, 2005) and aligned with new ideas about management and organizations. Internally, management sought to develop a “corporate culture” by redesigning the worker through staff identification with the corporation and its goals (Grey, 2005). Campus design—particularly interiors—shifted to reflect these changes with an emphasis on staff comfort and well-being. A prominent example of these changes was the General Foods Headquarters (1983), designed by Kevin Roche John Dinkeloo and Associates on a 55-acre site north of New York. To house 1600 employees, architect Kevin Roche designed a pristine white, seven-story structure, reminiscent of a gargantuan Palladian villa, set by a lake in wooded landscape. While Roche rejected the neutral, universal language of modernist design in favor of Classical and Renaissance allusions (at least for the exterior envelope), he eschewed local references, creating a placeless edifice beside an interstate highway. The General Foods Headquarters comprised a single structure with interior spaces arranged around a glass-domed, central atrium. With a large cafeteria below, the atrium functioned as the campus’ visual and symbolic center. Following research that interior plants boosted staff psychological and physical well-being (Sparke, 2021), Roche filled the atrium with greenery, inserting a (controlled) patch of nature into the building’s center (Pelkonen, 2011). Critics described the offices, filled with natural light, as “warm and welcoming” (Goldberger, 1983). But, as with Connecticut Life Insurance, the executive level was located on the top floor in a central position in the building, reinforcing the corporate hierarchy (Kerr et al, 2016). The corporate campus spread from the United States to become a global type in the late 20th century, with variations arising in different countries. Importantly, the vast majority of these campuses relied on what Mozingo referred to as “separatist geography” (Mozingo, 2011: 220), whereby staff remained isolated from their larger communities. Integrated with various staff facilities for leisure and services, the corporate campus was insulated world. A reliance on driving to work meant staff had little engagement with the places between home and work, and a blurring of traditional boundaries between home (with its associations with leisure and personal services) and work. Despite possibilities such as the urban, vertical campus (Britton and Hargis, 2016), the low-rise, suburban campus continued into the 21st century with three of the world’s largest companies—Apple, Facebook, and Google—designing and building new campuses in California’s Santa Clara Valley, popularly known as Silicon Valley.

The corporate campus  295 The high-tech corporate campus Silicon Valley is not a region generally associated with architectural innovation. Entrepreneurs typically began working in temporary or ad-hoc spaces, most famously William Hewlett and David Packard’s Palo Alto garage and the Homebrew Computer Club’s 1975 gatherings in a Menlo Park garage (Audia and Rider, 2005). From such humble spaces, start-ups moved to existing low-rise office parks such as Stanford Research Park and renovated these (Lange, 2014). Even as they grew to become global giants, high-tech companies showed little interest in commissioning new corporate headquarters until very recently, with a new generation of groundup corporate campuses that includes not only Apple, Facebook, and Google, but Samsung by NNBJ (2016) and Nvidia by Gensler (2018). Today, a corporate campus for a global company serves several purposes besides simply housing offices. In Silicon Valley, the new alliance of global corporations and high-profile architects has severed to distinguish one company from local competitors. A distinctive corporate architecture helps convey to the public and potential employees that the company is committed to this particular region and values its employees. While for a corporation, the campuses function as a physical embodiment of corporate values, for staff it offers a lifestyle aspiration. Here, it is worth distinguishing between corporate identity—as externally focused branding, and internally focused identification—as these new campuses attempt both. New visions of work and workplace design, with roots in Silicon Valley, have helped shape the new campuses. Palo Alto-based design consultancy IDEO, for example, have long associated innovation with fun—the work environment (and interior design) was promoted as essential in fostering innovation. Google’s global offices, renowned for incorporating slides, ping pong. Pool tables and video games within office spaces were also promoted as stimulants for creativity and innovation. Such fun not only encouraged staff to stay after hours (Baldry and Hallier, 2010) but also coincided with a kind of infantile relationship between staff and corporation—with no need to prepare meals, shop for food, or do laundry—corporations could adopt totalizing control of their employees’ lives. In exchange for long working hou