Products, Producers, Place: The Creative City Value Spectrum

January 2013 Alexia Serpentini

King’s College London

ABSTRACT This paper argues that no one­size­fits­all Creative City policy collection exists, nor exists a

singular model ‘Creative City’ to directly emulate because the Creative City is a symbol

harnessed and interpreted just as uniquely as the word ‘creativity‘ itself. Arguably many of its

objectives are in competition with one another as each urban adaptation of the thesis

legitimises creativity and culture in a different way through policy, either as a public good

and/or as a generator of profit.

How exactly then, with so many different denotations and priorities, can a city harness

creativity and culture as well as produce it? The answer is in the intersections­­a complex

ecosystem where social, economic and cultural capital are interconnected and creativity and

culture are prioritised diversely by each city on a spectrum of public and private incentives.

In order examine how this is accomplished, this paper addresses a twofold objective: (i) to

explore the policy methodology outfitted for creative and cultural consumption (ii) and to

comprehensively analyse the spectrum of publicly and privately prioritised production

policies for creative and cultural goods.

1.0 Introduction

Popularised by Richard Florida and Charles Landry, the Creative City (CC) thesis has

not only been championed by urban centres around the world but has also made a significant

debut in urban, economic, and cultural policy. The thesis, stressing the importance of creative

and cultural exchange, is often wielded through instrumentalist approaches, promoting

creativity and culture as an urban cure­all for a laundry list of items. The Creative City is said

to simultaneously: combat social exclusion (Sasaki, 2010), invigorate the economy (Hall,

2000; Landry, 2000; Florida, 2010) revitalise spaces and neighbourhoods, strengthen

communities and families, foster artistic development (Hutton, 2006; Markusen, 2006), bring

in heavy tourism capital (Vanolo, 2008), protect cultural heritage (Landry, 2008), herald

cultural diplomacy (Bilton, 1997), provide a safe space for decidedly high­risk small creative

firms (Champion, 2010), produce innovative technology and goods, replace declining

industry, celebrate diversity, and, perhaps most importantly, give the city an edge in the

global ‘competition’ for resources (Florida, 2004, 2010). Those resources (or rather the grand

prizes in this competition) are attracting both talent and investors, notably producing creative

and cultural goods, and generally increasing the livability of an urban area.

However, no one set of policies are capable of fulfilling all of these objectives and a

closer examination reveals that many are in contradiction with one another. Thus the Creative

City, a thesis valued for its morality, idealism and access to alternative sources of capital, has

been heavily criticised since its conception. Among many others, the thesis has been

specifically targeted for engendering yet another rebrand of gentrification (Lees, 2008),

displacement (Luckman et al., 2009; Peck, 2005), inequality (McCann, 2007; Long, 2009;

Bayliss, 2007, Catungal & Leslie, 2012), and deregulation (Gibson & Klocker ,2005; Peck,

2005). Even Florida himself has now hinted that the rewards of the Creative City perhaps

may not be as robust as once promised (Florida, 2013). Yet creativity and culture are still

understood to add an intangible social value to the city and the aims of the Creative City

individually remain valid objectives. Likewise, the fruits of the Creative City­­the Creative

and Cultural Industries­­are still real and valuable producers of innovation and profit, helping

to “establish the world class nature of the city’s cultural attractions” (Catungal & Leslie,

2012: 113) and are labeled “as one of the top­five sectors of strategic significance” (Peck,

2011: 471). Certainly some urban centres have experienced more success than others, but

regardless of its limited success and heavy criticism, the Creative City has proven itself to be

an ideological concept worth pursuit.

There are complex actors involved in actualising the Creative City: individuals such

as artists, elites, consultants, politicians, advocates and entrepreneurs; organisations such as

businesses, think tanks, real estate agencies, non­governmental organisations, not­ and

for­profit sectors, and cultural communities; and institutional systems such as museums,

universities, and public agencies or subsidiaries thereof (Bonet et al., 2011; Catungal &

Leslie 2012; Catungal et al., 2009; Peck, 2005; Peck & Theodore, 2010; Rantisiet al., 2006).

Many have begun to recognise that successful policies target more specific, measurable goals

beyond simply attempting to make a city and it’s populace more united and ‘creative’­ vague

terms that defy any one definition and translate distinctly with each use. This paper argues,

then, that no one­size­fits­all Creative City policy collection exists, nor exists a singular

model ‘Creative City’ to directly emulate because the Creative City is a symbol harnessed

and interpreted just as uniquely as the word ‘creativity‘ itself. Arguably many of its

objectives are in competition with one another as each urban adaptation of the thesis

legitimises creativity and culture in a different way through policy, either as a public good

and/or as a generator of profit.

The ‘and/or’ in the above statement is part of the key attraction of the Creative City­ a

space where social, economic and cultural capital inextricably weave together to produce just

the right environment for contemporary and innovative forms of production and

consumption. Within this vision, creativity and culture are both interlinked, yet they are not

the same nor are they easy to untangle. Interestingly, almost parallel to this dialogue is the

comparison between public and private incentives­­both promised to be the rewards of the

Creative City­­yet neither are the same and again neither are easy to untangle. How exactly

then, with so many different denotations and priorities, can a city harness creativity and

culture as well as produce it? The answer is in the intersections­ a complex ecosystem where

social, economic and cultural capital is interconnected and creativity and culture are

prioritised diversely by each city on a spectrum of public and private incentives. In order

examine how this is accomplished, this paper addresses a twofold objective: (i) to explore the

policy methodology outfitted for creative and cultural consumption (ii) and to

comprehensively analyse the spectrum of publicly and privately prioritised production

policies for creative and cultural goods.

2.0 Consuming the Creative City

Because the Creative City has been adopted and integrated within a diverse array of

urban contexts, many academics such as Markusen and King (2003), Pratt (2010), Sasaki

(2010) and Luckman (2009) especially warn about the complications and failures of direct

Creative City policy transfer and critically cite the need to incorporate pre­existing cultural

and creative environments inherent to the city. Whether contextually incorporated or not, CC

policies around the world (in congruence with general policy meta­analysis), will always be

shifting, morphing, and adapting to social and spatial specificities (Peck & Theodore, 2010).

This has been documented in many place­based case studies. For example, in Darwin,

Australia, “walkability, [the] creative milieux and clusters of spatially proximate actors, while

highly credible in many contexts, do not fit Darwin’s tropical climate and geographical

realities” (Luckman et al. 2009: 11); within this space, ‘traditional’ interaction­based CC

policies (social, urban and entrepreneurial) had to be completely recontextualised to fit with

the locational constraints of the city itself. Alternatively, in Osaka City, Sasaki (2010) writes

that CC policies were completely unsuccessful as they were loosely implemented urban

strategies in conjunction with an already­severe economic decline, including high rates of

unemployment, rampant social exclusion and near­bankruptcy. Yet “in spite of these failures,

a lively and inclusive grassroots movement has emerged around the creative city” (3)

completely in absence of any public agency, warning that any successful future policy

instruments must continue to encourage these independently successful small organisations.

However, despite mutation and context­specificities, overall themes have definitively

emerged within Creative City policies. The complicated ecosystems involved in moulding,

fostering and governing the Creative City lie specifically in catering to or receiving from

culture and creativity. Creative and cultural production and consumption are interwoven

within this thesis in reciprocal, complimentary relationships that are neither wholly dependent

nor independent of one another. It is a “system where consumption stimulates production”

(Sasaki, 2010). To produce creativity, individuals and organisations capable of unique

assemblage are likely required, yet the mere inhabitance of ‘creatives’ does not make a city

creative (Sasaki, Unknown Year). Furthermore, not all positions within creative and cultural

organisations utilise creative skills or contribute to cultural development (Dubina et al.,

2012), yet Sasaki (2010) notes the need to have a large specially­skilled workforce. It is also

argued that vibrant, diverse and innovative spaces are required to attract talent and increase

creativity (Florida, 2004), thus many urban centres worldwide have undertaken significant

arts­led urban regeneration projects. Yet even family policies like affordable “afterhours

childcare” can boost production, livability and inclusion, thus “providing more stability to the

Creative City image than any immediate financial aid could” (Luckman et al,. 2009; 79).

As mentioned previously, the hearts of these unique ecosystems are constructed by

inherent value attributions and a broad set of characterisations can be defined in symbolic

distinctions. Focusing on consumption first, policy trends can be categorised by value

attribution on a spectrum of creativity versus culture, good versus gain. However, it is critical

to keep in mind that many of the categorisations are, for the purposes of this paper, charted

on a spectrum and are not concrete definitions as many urban contexts could potentially use

what is listed below as a public good to make a strong case for economic advantage.

2.1 Culture as Public Good

For the Creative City that augments culture more as a public good, policies primarily

focus on provision, subsidy and regulation (Boorsma, 1998) in order to incentivise social and

cultural amenities and encourage social inclusion and heterogeneity. Regardless of method,

the objectives aim to ultimately increase sociocultural consumption exponentially. The

farthest extreme within this side of the spectrum is more idealistic and humanitarian;

however, this side has been criticised for leaning towards focusing heavily on constructing

goals and composing rhetoric (Hugoson, 1997). Over here, “direct and intrinsic support” is

offered among “inclusionary urban development” (Jakob, 2010: 193), and cultural policy is

often instrumentalised to nurture social inclusion. Social exclusion­­an articulation of poverty

not only lacking in economic capital but social capital as well­­is defined as the lack of

“community networks; civic engagement or participation in community networks; a sense of

community identity, solidarity and equality with other community members and norms of

trust and reciprocal help and support” (Percy­Smith, 2000: 6­7). This is actualised through

cultural policies aimed not to merely accommodate but include and engage, cultivating a

diversity of people, a diversity of jobs, and fostering communities though support networks,

awareness campaigns, and celebratory events (Percy­Smith, 2000; Pratt, 2010; Romein &

Trip, 2010). Financially, these policies materialise in the form of public funding, perhaps

through dispersion of lottery capital or grants, or alternatively through tax­incentives (Lee,

2005).

The more moderate, centred side of this array keeps profit generation in mind and

often articulates itself through providing physical infrastructure as places to continue social

engagement, generally focused towards the accessibility of cultural amenities, such as

galleries, events, projects and festivals (Percy­Smith, 2000)­­and many of these overlap with

the creative side of public goods. Percy­Smith also charts that public­good policies also

recognise heritage sites and artefacts as corporeal embodiments of cultural symbolism. The

UK­based think tank Demos regards cultural conservation on this side of the scale as a call

for social interaction and reflection of ideals: “in choosing what things to conserve, and how

to conserve them, we simultaneously reflect and create social value. . . . [It] is a statement of

what we respect, who we are and who we wish to be” (Demos manifesto, 2008: 15). These

policies entrust preservation to governmental bodies and their subsidiaries as spaces that

continue respect and cultural engagement (2000).

2.2 Culture as Profit Generator

Depending on context and place, cultural amenities and preservation of heritage can

also be argued to be located on the far opposite end of the spectrum, utilised as a main

proponent of cultural tourism in the form of flagship projects, festivals, mega projects,

museums and dramatic architectural attractions (Pratt, 2010; Jakob, 2010). Jakob critically

analyses this side, however:

‘these developments . . . [alone] are noble achievements if they serve the

public good and are universally accessible. Often, however, they are rather

exclusionary places and events of supervised conspicuous consumption . . . that

reinforce social boundaries instead of overcoming them and are guided by

profit­driven principles’ (2010: 194).

It is these interactions by both private and public organisations that also contribute to the

overall cultural landscape of the city and are integral to consumption of space. Deregulatory,

neoliberal policies that contribute to the marketisation of culture also operate under the

banner of market democracy and address the lack of public voice and consensus within

government­led cultural provisions (Lee, 2012). Interestingly, seemingly immediate,

profit­driven consumption policies facilitating cultural activity are not always “of primary

importance in directed economic value generation; rather, [they] play . . . a supportive or

facilitating role: such as attracting, or differentiating cities, in relation to foreign direct

investment” (Pratt, 2010: 4). Consequently, it is for these reasons that this side of the scale is

both harshly criticised and regaled for the ability to attract and bring in social, economic and

cultural capital from external locations and provide privately­led local opportunities where

public agencies could not due to financial or political constraints.

2.4 Creativity as Profit Generator

As previously mentioned, the parallels between culture and creativity in the Creative

City are numerous. While they are often held in the same regard and seem to be colloquially

interchangeable, creativity and culture are not, by denotation, the same. The overlaps here,

however, are profit­driven creative consumption and creative production polices. Within the

marketisation of the arts, the policy emphasis is directed towards privatisation,

commercialisation and managerialism of the arts as economic and social returns produce job

creation, boosts to local businesses, enhancement of the local image and attraction of tourists

and multinational companies (Lee, 2012).

The production­consumption feedback loop is generally created to provide creative

amenities for the creative milieux, creative class, creative tourists, and younger creative

graduates (Romein & Trip, 2010). Those physical amenities include physical redevelopment

of urban infrastructure from bike paths to street facades and designated creative quarters

(Banks, 2009) while entrepreneurial amenities facilitate a “favourable environment for the

arts sector” (Lee, 2005: 5). The market and private organisations are primary actors within

this environment and recurrently are stimulated by “tax breaks and subsidies, often for a

specific and geographical area or investment scheme” (Bonet et al., 2011: 4). This also

includes (usually limited) government subsidy and weighted attention to the encouragement

of business sponsorship towards the distribution of creative goods, practices and spaces, such

as theatres, galleries, media, advertising music, fashion, art festivals, and creative

marketplaces (Bonet et al., 2011; Pratt, 2004, 2009).

2.3 Creativity as Public Good

Livability also sits on the side of public good within creative consumption policies.

However, instead of catering to the creative class, milieu and tourists, ‘livability’ policies

quantify themselves in socially inclusive and sustainably long­term ways, such as family

policies like “household amenities, child day care, schools, shops, sport etc., quality and price

of housing” (Romein & Trip, 2010: 6), walkability (Banks, 2009), and encouragement of

community­driven bottom­up projects, organisations and creative institutions (Jakob, 2010;

Matarasso, 1997). Local arts involvement, such as arts education, school­based artists, public

workshops and artistic community involvement of excluded residents is key here (Jakob,

2010: 198). In these policy manifestations creativity and arts participation have been

ideologically championed as counters to social poverty and that involvement and

collaboration are “habit­forming” (Matarasso, 1997: 82).

3.0 Producing in the Creative City

Cluster and network­based polices take up much of the academic dialogue about

cultural and creative production, especially in regard to the Creative and Cultural Industries

(CCI). But as just as others argue that Creative City polices need to be firmly rooted in

existing frameworks, value systems and communities, so too must production policies.

Because cultural and creative products are different from industrial products, typical

industrial policy cannot simply be recycled (Champion, 2010; Sasaki, 2010). To understand

this difference, philosophy on product evolution is insightful. Inspired by Linné’s Systema

Naturae, Lamarak’s theories of evolution, Darwin’s views on the role of environments in

natural selection, Koenings’ writings on the genealogy of mechanisation, and Deforge’s work

on the evolution of the technical object, Cavalluci et al. addresses the evolution of industry

and innovative product lines (2013). They note that both industry and industrially designed

products advance once basic demands are fulfilled, much akin to Maslow’s Hierarchy of

Needs. It is only natural, then, that products developed beyond functionality, to utilitarian,

aesthetic and finally symbolic. In some artistic cases this even includes intangible products

that are strictly auditory, conceptual, virtual or experience­based. It crucial to understand the

contexts evolving these outputs; thus the veritable ecosystem of cultural and creative

products, or rather, the places, the people and the connections, are paramount references for

policy implementation.

In regards to place, “[t]he precise set of conditions that produce a creative

environment are almost impossible to define’ (Champion, 2010: 12), and it “represents the

kind of nonreplicable resource” (Taylor, 2013: 9). Place is critical to creativity and culture for

dissemination of information and knowledge, strengthening communities, off­setting risk,

financial, social and specialised support, formation of identity, integration within local labour

markets, and more (Banks et al., 2000; Hutton, 2004; Markusen, 2006); all are factors

socially and economically important within CCIs. On a larger scale, citywide identity

formation is important to value formation and prioritisation of creativity and culture, which

coincidentally affects use of the built environment and public support (Champion, 2010).

Furthermore, interconnecting these people and places are networks, intermediaries, resources

and institutions (Scott, 2006), thus cluster policies are a core part of the production ecosystem

regardless of public or private priorities. Horizontal networks are what bridge the social,

economic, and cultural gap in the Creative City and are an integral part of both producing

both public and private goods (this has been extensively documented: Banks et al., 2000;

Evans, 2009; Gu & O’Connor, 2010; Nobuoka, 2010; Sotarauta, 2011; etc.). They can be

utilised to strategically foster specific sectors like animation in Tokyo (Nobuoka, 2010),

fashion in Paris, or the development of cultural space in Amsterdam (Evans, 2009).

Networking polices are therefore arguably dead centre of the spectrum and are of the utmost

importance in every vector.

Additionally, there are three other main policy approaches to supporting creative and

cultural production that arguably occur at the heart of the spectrum. Firstly, intellectual

property rights “support the applications for protection or other means to safeguard the

creators’ rights” (Braun & Lavanga, 2007: 11): and are a necessity for both economically and

socially driven ideas and products in the creative and cultural sectors (Bach, 2013; Grodarch,

2012). Secondly, policies encouraging entrepreneurial interaction within these sectors are

mutually beneficial to all involved and have been proven to result in higher GDP growth

while locally facilitating higher rates of success; according a ‘quick­scan’ of national CCI

policies in 2007, this policy set includes “skills training (marketing, management, accounting,

[etc.,] . . .) information provision, networking, business start­up facilities, [and] dedicated

business support’ (Braun & Lavanga, 2007: 10) among others. However, Romein and Trip

argue that all Creative City policy is entrepreneurial because its motives are inherently

economically driven (2010). Lastly, connection to venture capital is also included to

minimise risk for entrepreneurs and cultural and creative producers alike through

incentivising equity investment, loan distribution and general cooperation between financial

institutions (Braun & Lavanga 2007; Cunningham, 2002; Landry, 2005, 2008). While these

three policy approaches do fundamentally lean towards prioritising the generation of revenue

and private gain, all public and private organisations occurring within the public­good side of

the spectrum cannot function on government assistance alone and thus are not specifically

included below for being inherently categorised within each vector.

3.1 Culture as Public Good

Catungal & Leslie (2012) argue that “[i]n the cultural economy symbolic values,

trends and fads are the fundamental goods being traded” (206); yet tangible cultural public

goods are often catered towards welfare and general social inclusion through distribution.

Cultural consumption overlaps considerably within these policies and many toe the line of

profit generation. Furthest away from that line are policies directed towards distribution of

public services, such as education­­libraries, schools, vocational training and workshops

(Romein & Trip, 2010)­­and free outputs within the cultural industries, such as television,

film, radio, some publishing and local sports. These products are socially based and are

informational, entertaining, symbolic or community driven. Physically, these policies

support production from not­for­profit and micro, small and medium­sized enterprises

(SMEs) with low­cost environments (Percy­Smith, 2000)­­as rents can help or hinder cultural

development and creativity (Rantisi et al., 2006)­­and by developing cluster/networking

strategies that cultivate cultural communities, organisations and businesses socially (Evans,

2009, Grodach, 2012). Outside of altruistic intentions, public aid is understood to be

beneficial because of the “positive impact of cultural industries upon the regional creative

climate” (Cooke & Lazzeretti, 2008: xiii) and thus where governmental support is generally

limited to tax breaks, awards, contests, social security, labour protection and access to

amenities and training, private involvement is highly incentivised (Braun & Lavanga, 2007;

Gollmitzer & Murray, 2012). Policy focus on the producers rather than product­­including

labour­based policies including security and legitimisation of economic­rights­­is labeled as

the ‘cultural occupational model’ and focuses on occupations and input rather than output

(Markusen, 2004).

3.2 Culture as Profit Generator

Again, there is considerable overlap with economically inclined creative production.

For­profit cultural industries are prioritised in this vector and while individual labour policies

are still included, output is targeted and the objectives of distribution are markedly wider in

scope than social inclusion (see: Hesmondhalgh, 2007). Distributive policies can include

government support for both local and “international market development . . . [involving]

raising awareness of market potential, . . . develop[ing] new markets (at home or abroad)

through traditional export promotion, commissioning, trade missions, representatives abroad,

networking, audience development, etc.”(Braun & Lavanga, 2007: 11). Output­based policies

focus on minimising risk while spatial policies accommodate growing SMEs and seek to

strengthen economically beneficial networks and partnerships (Grodach, 2012). Education

and training are still important as is creating partnerships and pathways between cultural

institutions, cultural industries and universities to develop a suitable workforce (Romein &

Trip, 2010). Here, cultural production is either publicly supported through management and

administration policies (for example: Seoul has constructed eight creative and cultural

arms­length organisations, two including the Cultural Affairs Bureau and the Cultural

Facilities Bureau) (Hwang & Lee, 2012) or through the neoliberalisation of culture by

opening up cultural organisations and industries to the market through privatisation

(Boorsma, 1998).

3.3 Creativity as Profit Generator

Foundationally, the same revenue­generating policies exist for creativity and culture

with only institutional differences. Instead of cultural production, however, creative

production is statistically incorporated more in policy as creativity and innovation are said to

“drive economic development” (Braun & Lavanga, 2007: 10). Included in the creative

industries are not only the arts but also the much sought­after capital coming from

advertising, design, high­tech and R&D sectors. Bach (2013) illustrates that while separate,

STI (Scientific, Technology, Innovation) production policies are slowly influencing CCI

production policies. Stimulating innovation is thus given precedence through encouragement

(again) of nurturing competition, increasing information, collaboration through literal and

social network construction (Bach, 2013). Intermediaries, therefore, are the fulcrum in

knowledge and resource distribution, and include “consultants, academics, policy advisors, . .

. journalists, designers, architects, . . . [and] entrepreneur[s] . . . straddling activities such as

property development, urban design, public art,’ etc., (Taylor, 2013: 5). Intermediaries also

come in the form of educational, innovative and creative institutions as policies incentivise

developing and keeping young ‘creatives’ through training and placement opportunities,

bridging the gap from school to the workforce (Romein & Trip, 2010).

3.4 Creativity as Public Good

Lastly, when creativity is prioritised as a public good (like culture) a considerable

amount of value is placed on management, arts­led projects, quality of place, social inclusion

and ‘creating’ rather than ‘producing.’ Markusen and Schrock (2006) and Jakob (2010)

highlight positive causality between artists, art, economic growth and urban development and

thus these policies focus more on grassroots, arts­led projects as well as offer support for

inclusionary products. According to Gollmitzer and Murray (2008), in the few occasions

where creativity was prioritised as a public good, policy support for creators has manifested

in what they call the Status of the Artist Legislative Approach (45). For artists and SME

owner/employers/employees, these policies move beyond welfare, social security, education,

training and tax incentives for creators to special protection, including: “sliding scales of

income deductions for individual artists, . . . exempt all [or 50% of] intellectual property

royalties, bursaries or foreign earnings [from tax deductions], . . .” and, as in the Canadian

case, offer self­employed artists limited financial aid without repayment (Gollmitzer &

Murray, 2008: 51).

4.0 Conclusion In conclusion, this paper strongly warns against Creative City policy cherry­picking.

Each urban area’s context­specificities must be examined through the values of their resident

populations and enterprises. In order to successfully implement a Creative City policy based

on consumption or production, it must be predetermined if culture and creativity are being

viewed as public goods or purely used as an economic incentive. While the Creative City

thesis is valued for its ability to bridge the connections between sociocultural and economic

capital, urban priorities will lead the policies into different directions of the spectrum to

accomplish their own objectives.

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