Focusing on the city’s positives is key. See current efforts to revive Glasgow and how you can help make a difference.
I read “Invisible Cities” by Calvino. Places are built from memory and desire. Bricks alone don’t make a city. My cities are viewed through Glasgow’s lens. Maybe you feel the same way.
My Glasgow differs from yours. Cities hold our experiences. Old routes bring back faces. We might recall a bakery’s scent.
Nostalgia can be tricky. We want things we cannot have. It can also blind us to today. Calvino’s city, Maurilia, has old photos. Visitors praise the old city. They prefer it to the present one.
The old Maurilia wasn’t graceful then. It would be worse if unchanged. It’s easy to miss the ’80s and ’90s Glasgow. It rose from its industrial past. It became an art and consumer hub.
Before changes, it felt like the UK’s runner-up city. Opportunity opened up everywhere then. Creativity lit up the darkness.
Today’s Glasgow seems duller by comparison. Buildings crumble now. Arts venues close down. Litter fills pavements, and it rains often. The overall bad feeling adds to this. We get mad about our streets. It’s natural to take out our stress.
Cities rise and fall. Even at their best, someone is left out. Glasgow at 850 is less than it was at 825. But it beats it at 800 years old.
During its City of Culture time, roads cut through it. The motorways took down buildings. They cut off areas from each other. Many missed out on the city’s growth then.
Leaders share the blame for the city’s issues. Austerity hurt the council a lot. It seemed unable to act. The state of Sauchiehall Street proves this. Some projects drag on and on. They get stuck in development limbo.
The council seems resigned. Absentee landlords let buildings decay. This causes frustration. It’s also contagious. If politicians seem down, we feel powerless.
The city’s slogan is “People Make Glasgow.” The ’80s rebirth started with a leader. But its success came from creative people. They worked together well. We must do more than complain to revive the city.
Some are already working hard. Architects, artists, and writers are joining together.
They’re asking questions and sharing ideas. They want to get council leaders moving soon. For example, a podcast probes riverside privatization.
A petition wants the river to have “personhood.” It wants focus back on the River Clyde. Events draw big crowds. People have ideas to improve Glasgow. An architect promotes city upgrades. She highlights new bridges and drainage work.
Positivity can spread like gloom. The council seems more upbeat. It takes more chances now. It will look into buying derelict Egyptian Halls.
If they take action there, they can act elsewhere. Councilors voted to raise council tax. The extra money will fix potholes and litter.
There’s a clear energy now. Politicians and papers ask, “Whither Glasgow?” If we add our energy, what can happen?
One city in the book has a museum. Each room holds a model of an “ideal” city. Yet, it was never real. People pick their favorite model there. They imagine their reflection in a pond. They picture elephants on the avenue. They dream of a fun, twisting tower.
Cities always fall short of our hopes. Not all ideas are realistic. If we use the recent burst of energy wisely, maybe bold plans can find a place. They could exist in Glasgow’s future instead of only as ideas.