From Branding to Placemaking: Inside the VIVACITY Lab with Frank Cuypers

The Helsinki team posing with VIVACity mentors during the presentation of the city’s case study © All photos courtesy of the City Destinations Alliance

At the CityDNA Conference 2026, amid discussions on the future of cities, destination transformation, and the growing role of territorial intelligence, we caught up with urban strategist and academic Frank Cuypers on the final day of the event for a conversation that quickly went well beyond the usual interview format.

Founder of Place Generation and one of the key figures behind the VIVACITY programme – CityDNA’s mentoring and guidance initiative for DMOs – Frank works at the intersection of urbanism, destination strategy, and placemaking. Through an approach that challenges standardised consultancy models and questions conventional place branding practices, he advocates for a more situated, relational, and culturally grounded understanding of places.

In this conversation, we started from the VIVACITY approach and the cases of Helsinki and Turin, and moved across some of the core themes that ran through the conference: destination identity, community participation in shaping place brands, the tension between promotion and authenticity, and the growing challenge of aligning urban governance, tourism strategy, and social legitimacy. What emerges is a clear perspective: cities are not products to be marketed, but living systems that require coherence between what they are, what they project, and what they ultimately deliver.

A conversation with HQ Magazine Manager, Manuel A. Fernandes:
 

Can you lift the veil on what VivaCITY really is? In many ways, it seems to function as a lab designed to guide DMOs towards understanding and developing their own characteristics and territorial DNA, correct?

The idea originally came from a CityDNA sponsor, Simpleview. They are American, and their view was that the old approach to branding had become obsolete. Showing another brand activation video at a conference is no longer enough. Their thinking was: why not invest those marketing resources into creating real value for the people attending the conference instead?

That was the starting point. They approached me, and I designed a proposal for a three-year, in-depth consultancy process through Place Generation. We are a relatively small company, mainly composed of Belgian professionals, alongside a few Canadian collaborators. I work closely with Elke Dens, who is also a co-founder and business partner.

We launched a call, and the two selected destinations were Helsinki and Turin. One of the things I also wanted to demonstrate to the consultancy world is that standardisation itself has become obsolete. Many consultancy firms still operate with a largely business-driven logic: they develop a strategic framework, shelve it, and then apply essentially the same model to every destination. I worked for many years in Canada and the United States, and that approach is still very common there.

But that model does not work in Europe, because every place is fundamentally different. What exactly is a DMO? In some cases, it is almost entirely driven by public authorities; in others, it is a hybrid structure involving private capital. Some DMOs are extremely small, while others are very large organisations. Some focus almost exclusively on promotion, while others are heavily engaged in the MICE industry. You have DMOs with teams of 160 people and others operating with only two.

So, what are we really talking about? You cannot scale all of those realities into a single product or a universal framework. That is why I believe the “one-size-fits-all” model of assistance and consultancy, regardless of the industry, is increasingly outdated.

During his session at the conference, Greg Clark spoke extensively about the importance of cities understanding their authentic identity, local purpose, and long-term positioning in a rapidly changing global environment. VivaCITY also seems to move strongly in that direction, focusing less on promotional branding and more on understanding what a city genuinely represents. Is that a fair reading?

Absolutely. My background is in urbanism, and I teach placemaking rather than place marketing. What I am trying to do is bring placemaking thinking into the marketing conversation itself. Fundamentally, who owns the name and identity of a city? It is the people who live there.

That perspective is extremely important. In Turin, for example, a new city brand has recently been launched, and the mayor is understandably cautious about public reaction because residents are already pushing back. That immediately raises an important question: what should happen differently? In my view, residents need to be involved from the very beginning and taken seriously throughout the process. If people respond by saying, “This does not represent us” or “We do not like this,” then perhaps there is something fundamentally wrong with the branding approach itself. The strongest city brand is ultimately its residents.

If you look at some of the most successful examples of city marketing in the world and ask students or the general public what they remember, they rarely mention complex strategies or logos. They remember simple emotional expressions such as “I Love New York” or “I Amsterdam.” What those campaigns communicated was not corporate branding, but the affection and connection people felt towards the place they lived in.

On the contrary, I often cite examples of branding failures from cities such as Vancouver and Montreal, and the pattern is usually the same. Suddenly, almost like a UFO landing from nowhere, a completely new logo or identity appears, and residents react by asking: “What is this? Where did this come from? This is not us.” When branding becomes disconnected from the realities, aspirations, and concerns of local communities, it can quickly become politically damaging as well.
 

“In many destinations, what we still see is what I would call an “adhocracy” approach – an ad-hoc decision-making.”
 

At the same time, one of the key takeaways from Greg Clark’s session was also the idea that cities are no longer defined solely by their residents, but increasingly by the interaction between residents, visitors, talent, and broader external audiences. He framed this around a balance between identity, projection, and perception. Do you think many DMOs still struggle to strike that balance between serving local communities and positioning destinations externally?

Yes, absolutely. There are some fantastic examples, but many destinations still struggle with that balance. One of the reasons Greg Clark’s presentation resonated with me so strongly is because, in many ways, we are measuring very similar things. Greg spoke about three elements that really matter. The first is what he referred to as the “raw materials” or the substance of a place; what I often describe as the assets and attributes of a destination. What makes a place distinctive? What is its inventory? What kinds of events does it host? What infrastructure, traditions, culture, economic strengths, or social characteristics define it?

The second dimension is delivery: how a city projects itself and translates those assets into action. I refer to this as projection. What are we actually doing? How are we communicating? Are we engaging meaningfully with audiences, or are we simply broadcasting messages?

The third element is results. Do we gain recognition? Is the place understood externally in the way it intends to be understood? Do we measure impact? And importantly, do we share those measurements and outcomes with our primary stakeholders, the residents themselves?

In essence, that is the framework destinations should be working with. The challenge is that many DMOs, particularly in Europe, often do not really have the mandate or institutional license to operate at that broader strategic level.

Why so? What are the structural reasons behind it?

Because the system is very siloed. We come from a tradition that is highly bureaucratic. Bureaucracy is meant to protect citizens, but in practice it can sometimes produce the opposite effect – becoming more about protecting political structures than enabling effective decision-making.

In Europe in particular, the DMO landscape is highly politicised, and many politicians are involved in its governance. And politicians, above all, are often troubled about one thing: their own residents. The thinking becomes: “I am elected, I don’t want to have residents constantly in the room challenging decisions once they are made.” Of course, this is a generalisation, and there are many outstanding exceptions.

What is still needed is a clearer understanding that the value of tourism is no longer just about attracting visitors through promotion. It is about managing a place and that must be done together with the city as a whole.

But if you go to a placemaking congress (and I often speak at those) you will rarely see people from tourism. And if you come to a tourism conference like this one, Greg Clark is still something of an exception. You don’t often see many professionals from the urban or city strategy world either. So, they are not really in the same room, and they do not necessarily know each other’s frameworks or language. That disconnect also explains part of the tension. There is, unfortunately, still a perception problem around tourism, even though much of the sector is actively engaging with these issues and thinking deeply about them.

That said, we are at the beginning of a shift. I have worked on a strategy for the European Travel Commission, where you can clearly see how differently countries approach these questions. In Europe, no two destinations think more differently than Portugal and Spain for example. They operate in fundamentally different models. Spain is much more driven by the logic of a large-scale industry that needs to be filled and activated, and is generally more vocal in that industrial framing. Portugal, on the other hand, tends to emphasise green positioning, smaller scale development, and experience management in a more curated and controlled way.
 

This also seems to connect to the idea of “projection” you mentioned earlier. In your view, is one of the recurring challenges for destinations that they are either very good at what they do but struggle to communicate it effectively; or, conversely, very strong at promotion but less consistent in delivery?

That’s exactly the dimension of the country that shapes mindset and conditions the message. I’m glad you mentioned projection, because it’s central here.

To take Helsinki as an example, one of the things that stood out in yesterday’s discussion is that they actually have many strong elements already in place. They have solid projects, clear symbols, and strong underlying narratives. But they don’t always know how to communicate that effectively. That communication gap is interesting, because in many other cases, it is the opposite problem.

Some destinations are extremely strong at marketing – meaning promotion, messaging, and promise-making – but that becomes a risk if it is not aligned with reality. If you over-promise and under-deliver, you inevitably generate negative sentiment about the place. That is something we see quite often.

A simple example I sometimes use with my students is coastal destinations in Belgium or Canada, where imagery often shows constant blue skies. But the reality is more nuanced; it is often grey, there is drizzle, there is rain. The point is not to idealise, but to be honest and aligned with lived experiences.

With Helsinki, it is almost the reverse. There is a very strong foundation with sustainability thinking; a kind of “new world” mindset, deeply rooted in cultural values around social diversity, equity, and inclusion. There is also a very strong connection with nature, where forests and green spaces are literally woven into the urban fabric.

But at the same time, there is a cultural tendency not to talk about it too loudly, because in a Finnish context, self-promotion can be perceived as showing off, which carries a negative connotation. So, my joke is always: you just need to hire a Dutch person and put them in front of a Finnish DMO, and you will probably see some magic happen. Because culturally, there is a different comfort level when it comes to communicating value outwardly.
 

“The strongest city brand is ultimately its residents.”

So would you say that this tendency to embellish reality, like presenting an overly idealised version of destinations, can ultimately undermine long-term trust and repeat visitation?

Yes, that’s exactly the issue. If you look at many traditional communication systems – and you still see this on channels like CNN – you often recognise the old model. I don’t want to criticise specific places, but the narrative is often very generic. It becomes an inventory of statements: "we are friendly; we have good food; we have a great lifestyle; we welcome you." And the question is: what does that actually mean? What does this place stand for? What does it want from the visitor in return?

That is where a lot of destination communication is still stuck. There is sometimes a belief that marketing and sustainability are separate, or even in tension with each other. But in reality, if you look more closely, they are increasingly converging. There are very strong counter-examples: Colorado, for instance, with initiatives like “Care for Colorado,” is doing excellent work in connecting marketing with responsible behaviour; Prague has taken a similarly interesting approach with “The Honest Guide,” using humour to address overtourism and influence visitor behaviour. Iceland has also done this effectively with campaigns like “Iceland Academy,” again using comedy and cultural self-awareness.

These approaches tend to work because they are not just promotional; they are most of all behavioural. They reflect identity, but they also shape how visitors behave when they arrive. That is important, because a significant part of what is often labelled as overtourism is not purely about volume, but about behaviour. If you look at cases like Amsterdam, for example, many of the interventions are not about reducing demand, but about managing behaviour in specific contexts, particularly around nightlife and alcohol-related issues. So, the shift is from idealised storytelling to more honest, sometimes even humorous, and ultimately more behavioural forms of communication.

So would you say that, in some cases, over-marketing can actually dilute or constrain a city’s authentic identity in destinations? In that sense, would you see Turin as almost the opposite case of Helsinki?

I’m going to surprise you, but there is something quite specific and cultural in Turin that any Italian will recognise immediately. They are not your cliché Italian stereotype of people speaking with their hands, being loud, and very expressive. Don’t forget this is a city with a strong mountain identity, close to the Alps, very up North, with influences that are also a bit Swiss and a bit French. So culturally, there is a certain restraint, a sense of elegance and understatement around them.

At the same time, the city has an enormous amount of heritage, sophistication, and depth. Yet, they often position themselves as the underdog: “We are not Florence, we are not Venice, we are not Rome.” But if you look objectively at the assets they have – museums, architectural heritage, the legacy of Leonardo da Vinci, the Holy Shroud, institutions like the Galleria Sabauda with extraordinary Flemish and Spanish collections – it is remarkable. And yet, the perception internally is often: “Yes, but everyone in Italy has this.”

Do you think many cities and DMOs still fall into the trap of over-segmenting visitor profiles, or of treating “the tourist” as a generic category rather than a set of more meaningful motivations and interests?

Yes, and I think this is quite a recent shift in our work with destinations. Historically, it was very generic: “the tourist” as a single, almost mythical creature. One of the things I have been trying to explain over the past two years is that this category does not really exist. What does exist are people with very specific passions and motivations; people deeply interested in art, or culture, or food, or design, or heritage.

In many destinations, what we still see is what I would call an “adhocracy” approach – an ad hoc decision-making. In other words, if an opportunity arises, we’ll seize it; or if there’s an event coming up, we should always bid for it. A constant effort to act ahead in every situation. But without a clear long-term strategic question behind it: what are we, and what is our bidding strategy over the next five years? How does this reinforce our positioning?

Because when that alignment exists, it becomes much more powerful. You are no longer just reacting to opportunities; you are shaping demand in line with your identity. Take Turin as an example again. If you position it strategically, it becomes a natural fit for conferences around food, wine, or architecture. It already has that identity. So the opportunity is not to invent something new, but to refine and slightly adjust how that identity is activated through bidding and programming.

That is where destinations become significantly more attractive, when there is coherence between who they are, what they bid for, and how they want to be perceived over time.
 

This connects to a broader strategic question I hear often around the events industry: are cities actively aligning their bidding strategies with their core sectors and identity? In that context, do you think business events and association conferences can also play a role in addressing, or at least balancing, the ongoing debate around overtourism?

Yes, I think it is worth pursuing business travel precisely because of its value profile. A professional delegate, for example, can generate three to five times the value of a leisure traveller. But more importantly, this only really makes sense when it is aligned with the identity and strategic positioning of the destination.

Take Brussels as an example. If you host a global conference of surgeons or cancer specialists there, it reinforces something that already exists: Belgium’s role as a global leader in medical expertise and healthcare systems. In that case, the event is not just an economic driver, it is a logical extension of the city’s positioning.

Where it becomes less coherent is when business events are treated purely as volume or as an incentive mechanism. For example, bringing groups to destinations primarily for leisure or celebration purposes with limited connection to local strengths. That is where the distinction between “business tourism” and actual strategic alignment becomes more blurred, and I personally think that distinction is important.

This is also why the terminology itself is sometimes debated. Because in reality, it is not purely tourism, and it is not purely business either. It sits somewhere in between.

Looking back at your work with both cities, what were the biggest surprises for you, either elements you were not aware of before or aspects that ultimately enriched your understanding of Helsinki and Turin?

What really surprised me about Helsinki is the depth and richness of its cultural offering, and how quietly it is communicated. I am personally very interested in classical music, and when you look at figures like Jean Sibelius, Esa-Pekka Salonen or composers such as Kaija Saariaho, these are globally significant names. Yet they are not strongly present in the national or city storytelling. The same applies to their broader musical ecosystem: large-scale choir traditions, internationally known electronic music like Darude, or even genres such as heavy metal and what you could call opera metal.

Yet, very often, this is not part of how the city presents itself externally. There is a tendency to assume it is “generic” or that everyone already knows it, which means it remains under-communicated. That comes from a very modest and humble cultural attitude, but it also means a significant part of its identity is not fully leveraged.

With Turin, the surprise was almost the same but unexpected. It is not that “Italy” from the stereotypical image that people pick up from television, and this challenge our assumptions. Turin is often quieter, more reserved, and more understated than the common image of Italian cities. Modern Italy is far more complex than a single narrative, and regional differences are extremely strong, from Sicily to Lombardia.

What struck me is that Turin itself often underestimates its own significance. There is a form of local humility, or even low self-confidence, where the city does not fully believe in the strength of its own identity. I found myself repeatedly encouraging them to speak more openly about what they have. Localism is also very strong in Italy. Sometimes even highly relevant assets are considered “not quite ours” if they sit just outside administrative boundaries. For example, wine regions such as Barolo are very close, but not always fully integrated into the Turin narrative. The same applies to industrial heritage like Olivetti, which is sometimes treated as peripheral even though it is part of the wider story.

When you step back, you realise how extraordinary this ecosystem is. Turin sits at the centre of an incredibly dense network of globally relevant brands and legacies – from Lavazza and Fiat to Lancia, Martini, and others – many of which are just slightly outside the city core, but still part of its wider identity. Almost like the city is the spider on this vast web.
 

“If you over-promise and under-deliver, you inevitably generate negative sentiment about the place.”
 

My final question, Frank, relates to the political dimension of all these topics we’ve been discussing: data, sustainability, and overtourism. Do you think these agendas are often driven more from the top, by political and decision-makers, rather than emerging organically from visitors or even local communities? If so, does this create a structural gap in how DMOs and political systems interact?

That’s a very good question. When I was younger, working as an academic, I used to write reports, research papers, and strategies. Many of them were never published, they simply ended up in a drawer on a politician’s desk. Well-researched, well-paid work, but often not the right moment for it to be acted upon.

At some point, I decided to flip that logic entirely. Even a strategy should be co-created with residents. Because what is happening now is that cities are constantly “speaking” through lived experience: what is actually happening in that city that makes residents react and conversations unfold in real time. If politicians hear that noise, they have to relate to it. So instead of producing closed documents, the process needs to be much more open and visible.

I’m not saying everything I have done has been successful, but some of the most meaningful moments came when I found myself directly in conversation with political leaders. For example, in Calgary, the mayor said: “Everybody is talking about this, so I wanted to meet you.” The same happened with ministers of tourism and other decision-makers.

That is when you realise the model has flipped. It is no longer about designing something in isolation and then handing it over to politicians. It becomes about reflecting back what residents are actually thinking, in a way that is visible and actionable. If you don’t do that, then politicians can effectively do whatever they want with you. Navigating that environment becomes a craft in itself, particularly for a European DMO. These political cycles also operate within very narrow decision-making windows. You have a limited amount of time to make an impact, and it becomes the responsibility – I would even say the duty – of a DMO CEO to make the most of that window and ensure something meaningful happens within it.

Essentially, for them, figures and facts increasingly serve as a trigger for generating immediate value, rather than planning for long-term value.

At a previous conference in Budapest, there was a professor from Toronto who said: “if it’s not measured, it doesn’t exist.” I think we also need to move away from that framing, because the line between human beings and data is becoming increasingly blurred. What is agentic AI now, right? It’s a kind of personified AI. I’m very curious about how that will evolve.

As we saw in one of these sessions, restaurant recommendations in various major cities are being digitally influenced by the perceptions and ratings of visitors who lack first-hand knowledge of local restaurants. Those recommendations are triggered by AI, by data, reviews, and ratings. So the credibility, or even the perceived relevance, of a city based on data could potentially be shaped, or even tweaked, in ways we are only beginning to understand.
 

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