In cities where public spaces are brought back to life, transformation stories like Müze Gazhane revive not just our spirits but also the local economy over a weekend. The invisible prosperity of free events reveals the true value of investments that touch urban life.
In recent years, the social impact of municipalities, especially in large cities, has increased significantly. They go beyond basic services like roads, water, and electricity, almost aiming for the higher levels of Maslow's pyramid. An idle ferry terminal turns into a library, a dilapidated structure that has lost its function becomes an exhibition space, and an ordinary park transforms into a festival area. And yes, they are doing this quite well. This article is also somewhat about how the multiplier effect in the local economy becomes visible during an ordinary weekend spent in the city…
Leaving home, mingling with the city
It is freezing. I really don't feel like going out. I have unopened boxes at home. Moving, for me, is a phenomenon where you can never be 100% settled. Then I remember that saying. “A clean house is a sign of a wasted life.” I dress in layers and throw myself outside. I only have two hours until Müze Gazhane closes. Fortunately, Istanbul traffic makes me smile, at least in cold weather. The streets are as empty as they are during a long holiday spent in Istanbul. I tell myself, "I'm glad I came out." I walk through the door. The southwestern wind (lodos) seems to be giving me a bit of a headache, but I don't dwell on it too much. First, I walk around for a bit. I learn the story of Hasanpaşa Gazhanesi, to give it its original name. It was established in 1892 to meet the coal gas needs of the Anatolian side and remained idle after serving for nearly a century. After a long struggle, the industrial heritage was protected and repurposed, and today it lives on as Müze Gazhane. Climate Museum, Children's Science Center, library, stages... It is an area where public life is intertwined. Probably due to the student dormitories nearby, there is a high number of young visitors. In the late afternoon, it resembles a university campus; calm but productive.
The new people of the new city
My first stop is the Building a City: Ankara 1923–1933 exhibition. The housing and public buildings of the "New City" (Yenişehir) in 1933 have been reconstructed with models. Even though the visual material is limited, the power of artificial intelligence to materialize abstract information is impressive. With the declaration of the Republic and Ankara as the capital, there arose a need for housing for the cadres who would sustain the seat of government. The plans are a product of this need. Despite limited resources, I encounter the names who made Ankara what it is today. Carl Christoph Lörcher leads the way. He created two plans for Ankara's modern period, but they were never implemented. He also has traces in Istanbul and Bursa. It surprises me quite a bit that someone so focused on people and nature could be a Nazi sympathizer with ties to the German Socialist Party.
Then comes Nevzat Tandoğan. I read the biography of this mayor, who took office at the age of 36 and produced projects rapidly for 17 years, and who won Atatürk's appreciation, line by line. Perhaps I want to reminisce about the days I stayed at the hotel overlooking Tandoğan Square, where I went for my book signing; I don't know. A city is undoubtedly more than just buildings. It is its inhabitants who make it valuable. The people of the new Ankara were cosmopolitan; bureaucrats, doctors, civil servants... At the same time, they were the invisible workers of modern society; drivers, postmen, nannies, firefighters, war refugees, sex workers. Unlike the high-rise apartments in today's urban transformation frenzy, only 10 of the 320 single-story, ground-level residences of Yenişehir survive today. In the words of the curators, the first Ankara experience that took place "five minutes to modern" remains in the dusty pages of history and destruction.
From nostalgia to red alert
The tone changes suddenly at the Climate Museum. The sepia calmness gives way to red alerts. I hear the melody that we are familiar with from Netflix documentaries, which gives you the feeling of "time is running out, we have to do something." The truths I know but don't want to face hit me; melting glaciers, rising seas, disappearing corals... And there is one piece of information I learned there that particularly shook me: the forecast that touristic attraction in Turkey may shift from the southern coasts to the northern coasts within a few years. My activist side stirs, but I also know that this is too big an issue to be solved by individual efforts. Shortening shower times is truly a drop in the ocean when considering what G20 governments can do. Some might point to the starfish story as an example; but I cannot approach this issue that romantically.
Science Center: What I thought I knew
I check my watch, 17.25. I dedicate my last 35 minutes to the Children's Science Center. As in many science-related events, the exhibition space is set up in a dark environment without sunlight. Because of the children's theme, everything is colorful; there is an interactive layout. Levers, pulleys, kinetic energy simulations—I remember my high school physics knowledge. My two-year-old daughter, more than these, is interested in the energy simulation that catches attention with its lights and sounds. She tries it many times, and she is quite happy. So am I. When my watch shows 17.55, I head toward the door. While passing by the Istanbul Bookstore, I smile as I read its slogan: "It has the world inside..." I get hungry; we prefer to continue toward the seaside rather than the Gazhane cafe. The sea air is always good. The lights of Kalamış Atatürk Park show that it will be our stop before returning home.
I have a short pang of conscience at the thought of returning home on time to get ready for the new week, but the energy of the crowd wipes away all the question marks. Food stalls come to my rescue. I follow the music coming from the ice rink. I am reminded of the ice rink built in Galleria in the 90s. How much childhood memory stores... As I watch the mini-shows of professional skaters, my eyes catch my daughter's curious gaze. She wants to get on the ice; while I am trying to explain that she is not of age, one of the young staff offers to take her in his arms and take a short tour of the rink. Of course, my daughter is over the moon. Now I am ready to return home; even the thought of opening the computer doesn't bother me anymore. My headache, despite the lodos, has passed. I cannot help but wonder how much of our aches and pains are psychological.
Invisible prosperity: The economy of free events
Some see these free events/venues under the title of culture, art, and entertainment as an expense for municipalities, but in fact, the multiplier effect in the economy comes into play exactly here. The citizen who wants to reach the festival area spends money on transport, gets hungry there and eats from local businesses/street vendors; the increase in turnover of small businesses has a positive impact on tax and employment items directly. On the other hand, bringing an idle public space into the economy removes the maintenance cost as a burden, provides positive value appreciation to its surroundings, and makes it attractive for the private sector to invest there as the region becomes in demand. It makes a serious contribution to the development of the city brand and the tourism economy.
These free festivals provide a hidden increase in prosperity, especially for families with children. The money not spent here is diverted to other areas such as food, education, and savings. In other words, since the citizen feeds their soul relatively for free or at a low cost, they use their remaining capital in another area. I understand that sometimes a city's economy grows with a weekend plan; and its prosperity grows with well-thought-out public spaces. As the city is good for us, we take more care of the city. Because the best investments are those that touch people.
“One day is not enough for women”
Municipalities are in the field with various activities on March 8, International Women's Day. Here, I do not mean superficial approaches limited to handing out carnations in squares. Programs aimed at women who contribute to production and the local economy with their manual labor (such as technology literacy, mobile photography workshops, design-oriented thinking training for entrepreneurial women) are extremely valuable. However, this visibility, squeezed into only one day of the year, sometimes leads to March 8 being presented to women almost as a “day off.” Yet, while free events, theaters, and meetings are positive, they are not enough to create a radical transformation in the social order. The work on widows and divorced women by Şemsa Özar from Boğaziçi University, who passed away recently, strikes home how widespread economic dependency is. Municipalities can make a real difference when they develop strong and sustainable policies in this area; most of what is done today still only touches the tip of the iceberg.
This content has been translated using artificial intelligence technology.