Returning to Taiyuan after years away, I was struck by a strange new lightness in the city—a brightness that defied my memory. I recall hazy days, the sky heavy with coal dust and sandstorms, shrouding the streets in a perpetual twilight. My early memories of living here with my grandparents, when my parents were too busy to look after me, now seem part of some half-lit past.

This time, Taiyuan felt almost unrecognisable. The air was unexpectedly clear, skies sharp and boundless. On the northeastern edge of the city, I found the Changjiang Art Museum, an architectural gesture towards the city’s future, designed by Vector Architects and backed by a property developer. True to contemporary China’s hybrid approach, the museum is also a showroom and office for the developer, an unusual duality that makes it both avant-garde and utterly practical.

The building itself seems to reach out to the community with its staircase leading directly to a public platform, while a sky bridge connects it to the residential area nearby. Yet, these idealistic designs are barricaded for now, fenced off as if waiting for a more harmonious time. Instead, the locals seem curious but cautious, gathering at the stairs to gossip, casting sidelong glances at this unfamiliar creature of steel and stone amidst the rural architecture.

And yet, even here, its presence feels promising. Among the reserved people of this traditionally quiet city, the museum stands like a question, an invitation to step forward.