I love love. And I love cities. So imagine my delight when Peter Kageyama requested an interview for his book about our love affair with cities.
"Hey, I want to write that book!" I remember thinking as Peter described his thesis. Our emotional connection to place has always been a little obsession of mine.
But I knew Peter would write a good book, and he was a good person to do it. He's been working in this space for some time, bringing together experts and practitioners around the subject of place-making. And this "city love" was definitely a topic deserving of further exploration.
I felt lucky to be asked to offer my two cents and then get to read what he had to say. If it meant that Detroit might be mentioned once or twice in a favorable light, that would be even better.
* * * * *
* * * * *
The first time I met Peter was at his Creative Cities Summit in the spring of 2010. A group of us from Detroit - Phil Cooley, Sean Mann, Eric Cedo & me -- piled into a van and drove down to Lexington, Kentucky to present at the annual national conference organized by Peter & his team.
This would be my first time attending the Summit, but not my first "Creative Cities" event. Back in 2001, I coordinated a conference in New York by the same name. The keynote speaker was Charles Landry, who had just published his book "The Creative City." The conference was presented by Van Alen Institute (where I worked at the time) along with The British Council and the Port Authority of New York & New Jersey. Hosted at MoMA P.S.1, it was a dialogue between London and New York about the role of creative industry in urban regeneration.
When we began planning this conference, it was the first time I had heard the term "creative city." Mr. Landry had coined the term in the UK back in the 80's, but it was a newer idea stateside. This was the point of the event -- to bring some new thinking to New York, where development was driven by a decidedly uncreative real estate community.
According to Landry, the old way of doing things focused on the physical infrastructure (or "hardware") of the city, with not enough attention to a city's "software" -- the human dynamics of a place. Landry called for a culture of creativity among urban stakeholders to nurture ideas and imagination, and to stave off the threat of homogeneity and the degradation of our built environment.
The conference was conceived and planned in advance of 9/11, but occurred just shortly after. Needless to say, it took on all new meaning in the aftermath of the attack. The fact that our conference partners at the Port Authority worked in the World Trade Center made this topic even more personal and relevant. In fact, just days before 9/11, I had been sitting high up in their WTC office, looking down over Manhattan, as we confirmed our plans.
All this to say -- it was a kind of "full-circle" moment for me to be asked to speak at this conference nine years later. From post-9/11 "renewal" of New York, to our post-industrial "reimagining" of Detroit, my life and perspective had changed quite a bit.
This would be my first time attending the Summit, but not my first "Creative Cities" event. Back in 2001, I coordinated a conference in New York by the same name. The keynote speaker was Charles Landry, who had just published his book "The Creative City." The conference was presented by Van Alen Institute (where I worked at the time) along with The British Council and the Port Authority of New York & New Jersey. Hosted at MoMA P.S.1, it was a dialogue between London and New York about the role of creative industry in urban regeneration.
When we began planning this conference, it was the first time I had heard the term "creative city." Mr. Landry had coined the term in the UK back in the 80's, but it was a newer idea stateside. This was the point of the event -- to bring some new thinking to New York, where development was driven by a decidedly uncreative real estate community.
According to Landry, the old way of doing things focused on the physical infrastructure (or "hardware") of the city, with not enough attention to a city's "software" -- the human dynamics of a place. Landry called for a culture of creativity among urban stakeholders to nurture ideas and imagination, and to stave off the threat of homogeneity and the degradation of our built environment.The conference was conceived and planned in advance of 9/11, but occurred just shortly after. Needless to say, it took on all new meaning in the aftermath of the attack. The fact that our conference partners at the Port Authority worked in the World Trade Center made this topic even more personal and relevant. In fact, just days before 9/11, I had been sitting high up in their WTC office, looking down over Manhattan, as we confirmed our plans.
All this to say -- it was a kind of "full-circle" moment for me to be asked to speak at this conference nine years later. From post-9/11 "renewal" of New York, to our post-industrial "reimagining" of Detroit, my life and perspective had changed quite a bit.
* * * * *
In Lexington, Mr. Mann did a great job moderating our panel, starting with myths and misperceptions about Detroit, and ending with a slideshow we created of our projects and neighborhoods.
The highlight of the trip for me (maybe second to Mr. Cooley kindly footing the bill for our $70 glasses of bourbon, which taught me to request a pricelist first next time), was meeting my Personal-Hero-and-Favorite-Living-American, Bill Strickland, from Manchester Craftmen's Guild in Pittsburgh. I had fallen hard for Mr. Strickland several years back, and to be listed in the same conference program with him was a city geek's dream. When I shook his hand, I had to keep myself from saying, "Take me with you. I will do whatever you need."
So that was a thrill, and I was grateful to Peter for giving us the opportunity to tell our Detroit story to a national audience. As we all know, the dominant Detroit narrative is one of decline and despair, so it is always nice to be asked to share an alternative view -- one of pragmatic optimism, creative problem-solving and grassroots civic engagement.
* * * * *
The second time I met Peter was in Detroit at Phil's home, where we got to do some more sharing about our various projects in the city. Again, I was in good company -- Phil, Sean, Eric, Francis, Matt & Kim Clayson, Kate Daughdrill, Vanessa Miller -- all comrades in place-making and community-building. Peter asked great questions, and we shared some of our aspirations and frustrations over sweet barbeque & wine.
Dinners like these represent some of my favorite moments in Detroit. There's nothing I love more than being in a room with smart, passionate people talking about the city. I learn so much -- especially when we don't all agree on something. (This happens more than you might think, actually.)
How did I get on Peter's radar to begin with? Not sure exactly. Likely, some combination of Paul Schutt, Brian Boyle and Dan Gilmartin. These dudes, along with Lou Glazer, David Egner and Katy Locker, have been really phenomenal about making introductions and putting microphones in front of emerging voices for some time now. Every panel discussion or interview I've ever done traces back to one of them somehow, and the importance of this cannot be overstated. They know that the future of Detroit depends on elevating and empowering new leaders, and they have been critical connectors between artists, entrepreneurs, media and decision-makers.
Some of my friends in Detroit roll their eyes that the "same people" tend to get a lot of attention -- and by "same" they mean people like Mr. Cooley, and maybe myself. But I remember a time when the "same people" was the suits -- older CEOs and bureaucrats, not twenty or thirty-something urban advocates and social entrepreneurs. This is a big deal -- a broadening of our civic discourse, and maybe a narrowing of a generational gap.
Not yet sure if the old guard is really listening, but I am grateful for any invitation to be a part of a conversation about the city.
* * * * *
Eventually Peter & I would have a nice long chat, just the two of us. I told him how I came to live in Detroit, how I started my business, why Liz Blondy & I launched Open City, how a group of us came together to write the Detroit Declaration. We traded ideas about what makes people passionate about place, and I learned a little about his research in Cleveland, St. Louis and New Orleans. (I'm always curious how Detroit compares to other places.)
I can't recall all that I said in that interview, but I do remember trying to articulate one possible discrepancy I've struggled with for nearly a decade now. Yes, I LOVE cities -- I've always loved cities. There are a million reasons why, and they run the gamut from philosophical to practical to emotional. But my love of this particular city, Detroit? It's a little bit more complicated than true love. In fact, it's really more of a love/hate kind of thing. (I've written about this before here.)
I was concerned I might misrepresent myself, and I didn't want to be dishonest. If I said that everything I do in Detroit is motivated by a deep, abiding, unwavering love for this place -- that would be false. Any of my friends know that I complain about Detroit as much as I celebrate it. I am not like many Detroiters who love their city unequivocally, just as it is, for better or worse. Some days I suspect I am moved more by frustration than adulation. Some days this place makes me completely crazy.
But, to Peter's point -- there is definitely emotion there. Enough emotion, apparently, to keep me engaged.
I assumed our conversation would mostly serve as background for Peter's investigation -- you know, just to shore up his premise that yes, there are in fact some crazy people like me who care an awful lot about place. (Like as much as some people care about their favorite pet or sports franchise.)
When I received my copy of the completed book, I was a little nervous to see my name in the index. Like, with page numbers after it. Good lord, what did I say? I mean, a book has a longer shelf life than an article, right? A casual remark could haunt me for a very long time.
Apparently I had a couple of strong opinions. And I know I said them just as they were written, because a) Peter was recording our conversation, and b) they're not super eloquent.
The best part of Peter's book is that it features Detroit so prominently as an example of a city full of passionate people. We all know Detroit gets plenty of negative press, so it's always nice when people recognize something special here and share that with a national audience. It's a nice kind of validation, I guess.
For the Love of Cities can be purchased on Amazon. I hope people will buy it, read it, and discuss it. Especially people who hold the power and purse-strings to create change here. Because if we're going to create places that really matter, we need our leaders to lead with love. Or step aside and let the lovers lead.
