Art builds community. Let’s plan for that on purpose.

No culture, no community. It’s that simple.

When I first wrote about urban design, I used the example of Wynwood Walls - a neighbourhood that didn’t get its spark from transit hubs or zoning changes, but from murals. Literal paint on walls.

What used to be a worn-down industrial area in Miami became a magnet for people, ideas, investment - and yes, community.

All because something shifted at street level.

Art took root. People started showing up. And they stayed.

What Wynwood taught me - and what I keep coming back to - is that art and culture are not side projects.

They’re infrastructure.

Not decorative. Foundational.

If we want places that thrive, we need to treat creativity as part of the structural plan, not as something we add after the cement dries.

In previous articles, I’ve written about the importance of planning cities for people, not cars, and about how community KPIs can help us measure connection, trust, and belonging in urban spaces and workplaces alike.

This piece builds on that work - because here’s the truth: art and culture are two of the most powerful tools we have to generate the very indicators we want to see.

So, join me and let’s explore this for a bit.

A City Is Not a Spreadsheet

One of the problems in traditional urban planning is that we overvalue what’s easy to measure. Traffic flow. Retail turnover. Population density.

But cities are not spreadsheets. People don’t move through them like data points.

They pause. They linger. They interact - or don’t.

And that’s where culture comes in.

Culture slows people down.

Makes them look around.

Makes them feel.

And those feelings? They’re not abstract. They’re measurable. That’s where community KPIs come into play.

When we ask:  

–Do people feel safe here?  

–Do they feel seen?  

–Do they want to stay, return, contribute?

–Is there trust between neighbours, and trust in the space itself?

We’re asking cultural questions. Emotional ones. And these questions don’t get answered by widening a road or upgrading a façade. They get answered by what’s in between - by music, murals, public performances, creative interventions, shared stories.

In other words, by art.

Amsterdam by Bakfiets

When I moved to Amsterdam, I didn’t fall in love with the infrastructure. I fell in love with the unplanned poetry of the city.

The neighbourhood theatre in a converted church. The piano someone left out for the public near the canal. The dance class in the park on a Sunday morning.

It’s messy, un curated, and quietly magical.

And it works.

I bike through it every day with my daughter in the Bakfiets, and I can feel it: people trust this place. Not because of how it’s built but because of what they can do in it. Because they’re allowed to show up, take space, and express themselves.

And that’s not fluff - that’s emotional infrastructure. 

I’ve written before about how we measure belonging in both cities and workplaces. How participation, pride, and agency are key community KPIs. Amsterdam scores high not because of flawless planning, but because the culture is alive. And alive culture invites connection. And connection builds resilience.

 So why do we still treat art as a “nice to have”?

Art Is Urban Infrastructure 

We tend to accept a certain hierarchy in urban planning. Roads first. Pipes. Power. Buildings. Somewhere at the bottom of the list - if at all - comes art.

Asculpture in a plaza. A mosaic in a tunnel. Something to fill a blank wall.

But what if we flipped that hierarchy?

What if we treated art as infrastructure? Not metaphorically, but strategically. As a direct contributor to the KPIs we say we care about: wellbeing, belonging, retention, participation, safety.

Art is not the soft edge of a hard system. It is the connective tissue of a healthy one.

It creates interaction where nothing was planned. It pulls people into shared space. It builds identity and story. And yes - it reduces loneliness, encourages dialogue, and builds trust.

Which, by the way, are all measurable.

So if we want to build community - and actually measure community - we need to design with culture in mind from day one. Not as a bonus. As a baseline.

Culture and the KPI Mindset 

We know how to track foot traffic. We know how to measure air quality. But we’re just beginning to take seriously the idea of measuring belonging. Of defining what it means to feel connected to a place.

And art is a trigger for that connection.

In my work on community KPIs, I’ve asked questions like:  

– Are people participating in shaping their space?  

– Do they express pride in where they live or work?  

– Are public spaces inviting emotional connection or discouraging it?

Every time I look at successful case studies, art and culture are already doing the heavy lifting. The neighbourhood mural that includes every child’s drawing. The food festival that turns strangers into neighbours. The open mic that makes someone feel seen for the first time all week.

These are not marketing tricks. They’re “belonging engines”.

And if we want sustainable cities, we need more of them.

Let’s Wrap This Up 

We can talk about density, zoning, ESG reporting, energy systems, and urban yield shifts all day long.

But if we forget the human layer - the poetic, expressive, playful one - then we’re just building containers. Not communities.

And cities built like that might function.

But they’ll never be loved.

Art and culture are urban infrastructure.  

They feed connection. They generate trust. They also activate the very community KPIs that help us track what really matters.

So the next time someone asks where to begin when building a better neighbourhood, maybe the answer is simple:  

“Start with the art.”  

Then build around that.

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Lots of love,

Stina

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