Last night's Carnegie event was a success. If I were smart enough to explain exactly what triggered in my head watching images of a petite, Glasgow-based artist blasting holes in embroidered pheasants with a carbine rifle (think traditional feminine refinement juxtaposed against crude violence), I'd ask the senior editor for a raise.
Then again, if I were as smart as one of the other artists she referenced who tore down a boat storage shed along a river, used the lumber to build a new boat, paddled it down the river to another town, and then busted up the boat to rebuild the shed in a new location, I'd be the senior editor.
Barring that, I should probably just write about dinner.
It was actually better. Better not because of the food and drink, but because a whole group of smart, creative people sat around a table immediately after having been inspired by another smart, creative person who joined us.
There were working artists, a museum curator, a museum director, an artist-in-residence program director, an art professor, an environmental consultant, and some who qualified as more than one of the previously mentioned. Your author was at least smart enough to sit in the middle. Even that, though, was mostly due to Mrs. Author, who kindly saved me a seat while I retrieved a couple pairs of old work jeans that are now headed for recycling as part of an art project.
Each person at the table had things they wanted to accomplish. Each knew some of the others but not all. An hour later, everyone was closer to both. Email addresses were exchanged. Resources are being shared. Further resources will be sought jointly. No tribalism. No turf. The regionalism long touted by moribund institutions was birthed in an evening by people whose chief transportation concern was expressed as a desire to be able to ride their bicycles across the river.
All we have to do is that a thousand more times or so and people will come to expect it of us.
By way of explanation, I'll turn you over to
CoolTown Studios, who've sat in the middle a lot. Their work is shared here under a
Creative Commons license.
How do you crowdsource the evolution of a retail district?
This is a question I'm often asked - how can crowdsourcing help develop and/or revitalize a commercial district, especially a natural cultural district?
It starts with preparation, understanding crowdsourcing as a solution to a 'cloud problem', and recognizing the importance of third places, scenes and events. Read more about their roles here.
The first action step involves establishing a creative community, which will then crowdsource the scene for the district, such as arts and entertainment, fashion, music, high-tech, multimedia, green/triple bottom line businesses...
The second step results in having the group, now known as a beta community, identify ten third places that they feel are both missing/needed and necessary to establish the scene. This is followed by identifying VIBEs to run each of these businesses, and crowdsourcing a loyal customer base to ensure success from opening day.
The third step has the group crowdsourcing events at both the business and district scale that attract that critical mass of people essential to ongoing economic and cultural prosperity, filling the venues and establishing not only a scene, but a community and a heritage.CoolTown visual guide to crowdsourced placemaking (PDF)
