Let Artists Light the Way

In the past year, I’ve explored over 30 cities—venturing as far as Melbourne, Australia, and staying as close as Brooklyn, New York. Years after COVID first upended urban life, many cities still feel stuck in recovery mode. Beneath the shadows of towering office buildings—many still hauntingly empty—some streets pulse with life while others struggle to find their rhythm.

In places where developers have made efforts to “build back better,” the results are uneven. Some neighborhoods shine, while others falter. But as I think back to the cities that captured my heart—the ones I’m itching to revisit—they all share one defining trait: something extraordinary, almost always created by an artist.

Take Melbourne, for example. Around the corner from my sister’s apartment, there’s a tiny coffee shop with just three perfectly arranged seats. The owner, an artist in her own right, is obsessive about her beans, her brews, and the atmosphere. Her coffee? A masterpiece. It’s the kind of place where people queue up around the block, rain or shine. That small shop doesn’t just serve coffee—it defines the neighborhood.

Then there’s Bastrop, Texas, home to?Ryan Holiday’s Painted Porch Bookshop.?Perched in a storybook setting, this is no ordinary bookstore. Built around a tree, it’s a place for readers and writers alike—a curated haven where every book feels like a treasure. It’s not just a place to buy books; it’s a destination. Holiday, a best-selling author, has created something truly special. I’d happily travel miles to walk through those doors again.

In Paris, it was Frenchie’s, a hidden bistro on a nearly invisible side street. Finding it felt like a scavenger hunt, and stepping inside was like entering another world. My wife and I savored an unforgettable culinary experience—each dish a work of art, each wine flight curated by an expert sommelier. That night wasn’t just dinner but a memory that lingered long after the taste.

Closer to home, a quiet revolution is taking shape in New York City. New jazz clubs hum in hidden basements, vinyl-listening bars glow with moody lighting, indie bookstores thrive, and bespoke clothing shops offer a counterpoint to the sameness of mass-market retail. These aren’t just businesses—they’re the soul of a city rediscovering itself.

As cities try to reignite their vibrancy, maybe the answer isn’t in mega-developments or big-box stores. It’s not in more Starbucks or Sephoras—chains you can find anywhere. What makes a city truly unique are its intimate, authentic spaces—the kind of places that inspire stories, not just transactions.

Think about it: tourists flock to New York’s West Village, snapping photos on historic brownstone stoops that reflect craftsmanship and character. No one is pausing to Instagram a random glass-and-steel skyscraper on?57th Street. Those buildings could exist anywhere, but a brownstone stoop? That screams?New York.?Similarly, an Instagram post from?From Lucie, a phenomenal bakery in the East Village, tells a far richer story than a shot in front of a Dunkin’ Donuts.

In an era filled with noise and generic clutter, people are hungry for connection and authenticity. Artists, craftspeople, and small creators—those who work tirelessly to hone their craft—are the ones building neighborhoods that truly matter. Yes, they bring monetary value, but their greater gift is to the residents and visitors who find inspiration in their work.

This inspiration has a ripple effect, transforming sleepy corners into vibrant collectives. Developers may control the budgets, but artists define the heartbeat. If we truly want to bring our cities back to life, we must give them a seat at the table. Because while spreadsheets keep the lights on, it’s the artists who light the path forward.

Sidebar:

Last night, I experienced something extraordinary—a perfect example of artisans at work. For my birthday dinner, my wife chose?Sushi by Scratch, and let me tell you, it was unforgettable.

Tucked around the corner from my office in Flatiron, the journey began with a nondescript flight of stairs leading down beneath a nail salon. At the bottom, we rang a secret doorbell, and just like that, we were transported to a world of culinary magic.

The restaurant itself is intimate—just 10 seats around a sleek sushi bar, with only three seatings a night. The atmosphere feels both exclusive and inviting. Over the next couple of hours, we were served 17 courses of the most exquisite fish imaginable, prepared with precision by chefs who work with the rhythm and intensity of performers.

Each dish felt like its own masterpiece, perfectly paired with six rounds of sake that were as much a part of the experience as the sushi itself. The bartenders, equally skilled, curated flavors that complemented and elevated every bite.

By the time we climbed back up the staircase—emerging into the world above the nail salon—it was clear we had just had one of the best meals of our lives. But it wasn’t just about the food. It was the artistry, the care, the precision of the people behind the counter who made it all happen. This wasn’t just dinner— it was an experience crafted by masters of their craft. And it was the absolute perfect way to kick off 58.

Let’s do this!?

Shaun