When tourism disrupts it all: An approach to the landscapes of touristification

1 When tourism disrupts it all: an approach to the Landscapes of Touristification Jaime Jover, Department of Human Geography, University of Seville María Barrero-Rescalvo, Department of Urban and Spatial Planning, University of Seville Original citation: Jover, J., & Barrero-Rescalvo, M. (2023). When tourism disrupts it all: An approach to the landscapes of touristification. Journal of Urban Affairs, 46(6), 1161– 1179. https://doi.org/10.1080/07352166.2023.2237144 Abstract Touristification refers to an intense tourism expansion and appropriation in a specific area due to the activity's rapid growth in a short period of time. COVID-19 meant a halt to touristification disruption of urban life–affecting housing markets, cultural expressions, public spaces, or the environment–that is growing again as global mobilities have recently resumed. In cities that have become important tourist destinations, touristification intertwines with other urban processes, such as built environment renovation or people and retail gentrification. We explore these processes linking them to the concept of landscape, understood as space socially produced, perceived, and shaped, looking into the transformations in the physical, social, symbolic, and emotional arenas inspired by previous studies on the landscapes of gentrification. Drawing on landscape, urban, and tourism theorizations, we come up with the landscapes of touristification as an integrative approach that enable us to comprehend a multi-faceted process of tourism-led urban transformation. Through qualitative analyses, we study San Luis Street, an axis that connects traditionally non-tourist neighborhoods in Seville’s historic district in the years before the pandemic. Keywords: Landscape change, tourism, touristification, gentrification, Seville. Este es un manuscrito original de un artículo publicado por Taylor & Francis en Jover, J., & Barrero-Rescalvo, M. (2023). When tourism disrupts it all: An approach to the landscapes of touristification. Journal of Urban Affairs, 46 (6), 1161–1179. https://doi.org/10.1080/07352166.2023.2237144 2 1. Introduction Tourism figures broke records year after year worldwide until COVID-19 interrupted global mobilities. Tourism growth, especially in urban areas, had already been intense in the post-industrial capitalist context since the 1990s, when it increasingly turned urban cultures and environments into commodities (Zukin, 1995; Judd, 1999). After the 2008 financial crisis, economic restructuring translated into a greater specialization in the tourist sector, especially in some regions like southern Europe, which became the most visited in the World (Cañada & Murray, 2021). The global expansion of tourism caused rapid economic, social, and cultural transformations in central urban areas, especially since the growth of short-term rental (STR) digital platforms, such as Airbnb or Vrbo. This disruption suddenly stopped in 2020. In a few days, touristic cities became empty, adding distress to economies heavily dependent on the activity. Instead of opening a period to reflect upon that dependency and the socio-spatial impacts on urban areas, tourism-friendly governments at all scales and the industry have sought a speedy recovery of tourist flows ever since vaccinations kicked off. Consequently, tourism numbers began to grow again to the extent that the UNWTO (2023) estimates a full recovery in Europe by 2023. Pre-pandemic approaches to the urban tourism phenomenon have opened new lines of research and methodological debates, but at times the results have been overcompartmentalized, disregarding a multidimensional perspective on the processes. This study overcomes these limitations by linking urban and tourism studies through a holistic vision of the rapidly changing city theorized within critical landscape research. We do so by reorienting and developing Martin Phillips’ (2018) innovative approach to the landscapes of gentrification in studying heavily touristic urban areas through a study case in Seville, Spain. Landscapes are areas where human processes take place and interplay with physical settings, and it is the people who socially and culturally construct them in their daily lives. The Council of Europe's European Landscape Convention (ELC)1 understand landscapes as "any part of the territory as perceived by the population, whose character is the result of action and the interaction between natural and/or human factors." Mata (2008, p. 155) situates this definition as "the increasingly widespread demand of the right to live in 1 Please visit: https://www.coe.int/en/web/landscape 3 environments that are worthy landscapes." Priore (2002) indicates that the ELC overcomes the elitist conception that equates landscapes with environments containing cultural or natural values in order to shape a widely understood "right to the landscape." This latter interpretation stands in line with critical landscape perspectives, a line of inquiry by which scholars have addressed landscapes' cultural and ideological meanings since the 1980s. Within that framework, the ways of understanding the landscape are linked to the capitalist system because they play a role in the reproduction of power relationships (Cosgrove, 1984). Landscapes shape political and social orders because they are generated actively by people and public and private institutions and, as such, it is indispensable to deal with how it is commodified in the production system and how it is represented as a form of power (Mitchell, 2002; Domosh, 2013). As Mitchell (2008, p. 47) writes, “as a concretization of social relations, landscape properly understood provides a means to analyze–to make visible–the social relations that go into its making, even as one of the functions of landscape is precisely to make those social relations obscure”. We approach landscapes as a combination of social relations that dialectically construct and are shaped by the environment, reflecting its conflictual evolution, meanings, and current perceptions, geographically configured by its inhabitants and its political, economic, or cultural activities over time. The landscape is constantly present in the scientific literature on urban studies, for example, in relation to public spaces (Mitchell, 2003), to public memory and identity (Alderman & Inwood, 2013), or to socio-spatial change (Patch, 2004). However, related to the latter, Phillips (2018, p. 82) argues that despite the frequent references to the concept in gentrification research, there is "any substantive discussion of what the term landscape might mean, or even how it is being interpreted within a specific study". Even though landscape changes have been one of the main aspects to define gentrification from the beginning, this has yet to be a preeminent approach in its analysis. This scientific vacuum extends to other processes pushing changes in the city; over the years, tourism’s impacts on towns have also emerged as tourism has increased worldwide (Ashworth & Page, 2011). Urban tourism manufactures places, condenses cultures, reshapes existing environments, and ultimately alters the ways in which local populations see and understand themselves (Urry, 1990; Fainstein, 2007). In line with tourism contributing to increasing urban inequalities and touristification processes, that is, the physical and symbolic appropriation of an area due to a substantial intensification of the activity, new 4 debates have sparked from critical approaches (e.g., Chirot, 2019). Analyses of touristification have primarily focused on entire neighborhoods, apart from Cocola-Gant and Gago’s (2020) work on Rua dos Remédios in Lisbon. In this context, it is worth asking which urban landscapes are being produced, how, by whom, who is represented, and who is side-lined at micro scales. We posit that landscape approaches are crucial to understanding recent tourism-driven urban changes by associating visual variables, social aspects, urban features, and the images of an area produced by different actors. Insofar as we consider the landscape as integral, their study allows us to overcome discipline divides and study tourism-induced urban transformations as a conjuncture where the physical reality and the intangible come into contact, which also needs adjusting the scale of analysis. We test our hypothesis on a crucial street in Seville’s historic district. The Andalusian capital is one of the longest-lived touristic cities in Europe, with its economy specialized on the sector–and debates around it–dating to the 19th Century (Villar Lama & Fernández Tabales, 2017). The fourth largest conurbation in Spain (1.5 million inhabitants) beat its record for visitors in 2019, exceeding 3.12 million (Morillo, 2020). The hospitality sector has welcomed that increase and is encouraging local and national governments' international promotion of macro-events and marketing (Macías, 2019). Tourism has expanded from traditional tourist areas like Santa Cruz and Arenal to nearby neighborhoods within the historic district. San Luis Street is an artery that connects these latter with residential neighborhoods, being one of the longest roads in the city center that serves an area with a working-class past. Tourism spread over San Luis in the last 15 years, bringing about changes, so the space is now shared by residential, business, and some low-grade industrial uses, with a thriving tourism industry. We analyze the landscapes of touristification in San Luis between 2008, a turning point due to the economic crisis, and 2020, right before the COVID-19 pandemic, which halted these processes. The disruption was temporary, as Seville received 2.5 million tourists until October 2022, accounting for a rapid recovery. 2. The landscape as the nexus between tourism and the urban The concept of urban landscape is more than a Century old, originating in the late 19th Century process of urbanization linked to industrialization and Western imperialist expansion. Amidst the rapid transformations in European cities that altered their (usually historic) structures, contextualists advocated for a cultural continuity between the past 5 and the future (Lamprakos, 2014). Cityscapes were born out of the sensitivity toward urban history through authorized discourses (Smith, 2006), with political implications that draw on the balance between monument preservation and modern city design. The concept emerged in the face of capitalist restructuring that understood the city not only as a place for production and exchange but also for consumption (Harvey, 2003). Urban landscapes became more complex as cities grew alongside new architectural techniques, design fashions, and the mobility revolution involving the explosion of car use and its related infrastructure (Relph, 1987). As Fordism went into crisis in the late 20th Century, global socio-spatial relations shifted again. In the West, Lefebvre (1970) noted that urbanization became the dominant sector to overcome accumulation crises, relegating the productive industry to a subsidiary role and turning the city into a place for consumption. Henceforth, tourism evolved into a solution linked to urban sprawl and the creation of new markets; at this crossroads, Lefebvre (1973) theorized the “spaces of pleasures” as landscapes that prompt sensory qualities to people, or “places of the moment.” Even though the philosopher was thinking about urban developments along the French and Spanish coastlines, the spaces of pleasure were not limited to new townscapes. Lefebvre was already pointing to tourism as a commodification process that comes into being in specific landscapes, even remaking those already produced in existing urban settings. Evidence about Lefebvre’s early observations in the urban studies literature in the Global North includes Zukin's (1995) and Judd's (1999) analyses of urban changes intertwined with consumption culture. Yet explanations about urban transformations have mainly revolved around gentrification (Lees et al., 2008). Smith (1996) theorized gentrification as a class war and a revanchist strategy because upper- and middle-classes upscale lowincome, usually central neighborhoods through urban planning and the housing property market, displacing working-class, deprived, or unemployed residents. Gentrification molds an area with slight or inexistent social conflict, good services, and a supply for residents with a higher purchasing power that entails landscape modifications. Smith (1996, p.37) defined gentrification as "the class remake of the central urban landscape". Davidson and Lees (2005) refer to the change in landscapes as one of the defining characteristics of contemporary gentrification, together with capital reinvestment, the arrival of high-income populations, and the direct or indirect displacement of lowerincome residents. As tourism consolidated as a global industry in the early 21st Century and spurred to cities, commercial and tourism gentrification further explained urban 6 revitalization associated with the arrival of new (global brands) retail shops and tourists. Gotham's (2005) work on New Orleans' French Quarter pointed out the relationship between the displacement of residents and business substitution to cater to visitors. Tourism contributes to urban areas’ revaluation by maximizing revenues from land and housing property markets by creating new landscapes. In parallel, the “new urban tourism” framework explained visitors expanding from tourism hotspots into surrounding residential neighborhoods in search for non-touristy local experiences, which overlapped with STRs early expansion, linking the process to gentrification (Füller & Michel, 2014). Recent research has pointed out how gentrification and tourism development may work together in some circumstances, and may also be contradictory in others, especially when the latter is intensive. While gentrification implies residents’ substitution, tourism may prevent new upper or middle-class locals from moving into a gentrifying neighborhood because the market paves the way for visitors, generally turning housing into STRs. In such context, touristification debates have gained weight (Sequera & Nofre, 2018; Jover & Díaz-Parra, 2020). Touristification was first developed in French-speaking academia. Picard (2003) uses it to explain how Balinese culture has been created vis-à-vis tourism development to the extent that this Indonesian island’s identity cannot be understood without tourism. Stors and Kagermeier (2013) describe tourists flocking to off-the-beaten-track neighborhoods in Copenhagen as touristification, being close to the new urban tourism framework. Scholars have recently reframed and enlarged the concept, while others have appeared, such as overtourism, in line with the new dimension that the impact of tourism has taken. Overtourism refers to an unprecedented increase in tourism flows in a neighborhood or district, becoming the dominant activity, thus intensely affecting urban living and sparking social contestation (Mansilla, 2021). It stems from touristification, which entails the physical and symbolic appropriation of urban space almost exclusively for tourism purposes, often overlapping with previous or current gentrification dynamics, including those driven by transnational populations (Jover & Díaz-Parra, 2020; Sigler & Wachsmuth, 2020). Touristification impacts local populations in different ways: the housing market, with the reduction of the available supply and an increase in prices, especially rents; the business structure because of the disappearance of local shops geared at residents; or the functionality of public space as a meeting place for neighbors (Freytag & Bauder, 2018; Cocola-Gant et al., 2020). Touristification hyper-intensifies place 7 consumption and transform visible and intangible aspects of urban space, alienating residents, changing cultural practices, or dismantling long-standing collective memories (Díaz-Parra & Jover, 2021). The process is not exclusive in the Global North; for example, it has already stirred up discussions across Latin American cities (Lerena & Rodríguez, 2023). Touristification, driven by market dynamics and political strategies, extensively reconfigures urban landscapes, triggering low-income residents’ displacement, tourism-led land use change, public space privatizations, or built environment restoration, which may foster–depending on each case–Disneyfication, theming, or facadism. Landscapes embody the diverse faces of touristification, as it does with gentrification. This is why Phillips (2018), like Patch (2004) before him, chose to frame their work on urban development or re-urbanization through gentrification framed in the landscape. In what is to come, we follow Phillips’ suggestion regarding the study of gentrification that considers landscapes into four conceptualizations, which can be transferred, with specific provisions, to the analysis of touristification. These categories are: physical, social, symbolic, and lived landscapes. The physical landscape refers to the visible surface of the world. It is the material space produced throughout different stages of capitalist development. Its transformation into a city encompasses the built environment from landmarks to public spaces to lesser-known (but still singular) architectural typologies, including those that have housed working people. Physical landscapes are also the urban grid, the division of plots, and even flowing objects such as cars, buses, trains, and other means of transportation by which people get around. Regarding its use to account for urban change, Patch (2004) argues that gentrification "is embedded" in the prior landscape, which acts as an object that can block or favor the processes of change. Before him, Zukin (1982) had tested how obsolete and abandoned industrial landscapes–like in NYC's Soho–could foster change through their conversion into art studios, marketized as lofts. These authors attest that the physical landscape drive change in social and economic realms, especially in rapid tourism development contexts based on an aestheticist appeal. However, our understanding of landscape as a dialectical relationship implies adding to the equation the social processes by which the former is created and defined. The social landscape deals with the productive and reproductive dimensions of social relations. This aims at the socio-spatial consequences of urban transformation processes, focusing on who commands them and who is harmed. This conception is close to Zukin’s 8 (1991, p.16) "sociological image" of landscape, which evokes not only the aspects of the socio-cultural life of a place but also the power relationships: "A landscape mediates, both symbolically and materially, between the sociospatial differentiation of capital implied by market and the sociospatial homogeneity of labor suggested by place." In this sense, conflicts around urban transformations are essential to reveal the social forces that oppose these changes, which are sometimes hidden in the material landscape. Retail shops make up the physical landscape but are also part of the social landscape, understood as a space for the production and reproduction of community networks and a place for the supply of basic needs, which touristification potentially alters. When this process unfolds, the expansion of services catering to visitors means new businesses aimed at leisure and recreation activities. Moreover, the commercial transformation directly impacts public space since, together with new cafés, pubs, and restaurants, it extends the privatization of public space to install tables, chairs, umbrellas, or heaters. The symbolic landscape is linked to the idea of the built environment as a cultural or identity representation of society. Cosgrove and Daniels (1992) define it as a cultural and pictorial image that represents, structures, and symbolizes reality, which can be read in the materials but also in viewing or describing the world through images put into circulation. In the study of landscape as an expression of power, Zukin's work (1995) stands out on the symbolic dimension of the urban economy expressed in design or in the cultural industries that emphasize consumption and high- and middle-class fashion in their back-to-the-city (and primarily to urban centers) flows since the 1990s. Touristification feeds by these same cultural patterns, associated with the need to visit those urban centers, which in most cases are historically designated sites in southern European capitals. Government, usually tourism and cultural or heritage agencies, and private, tourism-based companies produce authorized discourses (Smith, 2006) about these historic urban areas to pinpoint them as business and tourist consumption spaces. The commodification process, however, does not often correspond to (locals) place memories (Hayden, 1995). Though neither tourism nor heritage narratives are entirely hegemonic. Community-based movements and organizations break the consensus by challenging the identification between tourism and development, for example, when questioning the myth that equates tourism with public wealth (Hernández-Conde & Barrero-Rescalvo, 2022). These groups do so through narratives about the neighborhood's 9 social value as a gathering and resisting place, opposing those that privilege its economic value, reproducing anti-gentrification movements’ strategies. The lived landscape refers to the understanding of space as a psychological, affective, lived experience, embodied and mixed with people's daily lives. It has to do with giving agency to landscapes, not seeing them as a passive surface or physical support for social life. This fourth perspective refers to the sense of space everyone develops, i.e., people’s beliefs, dreams, emotions, or affection interacting in and with places (Phillips, 2004). The conceptualization also mirrors place perception and attachment (e.g., Degen, 2008) following non-representational or environmental psychology approaches. Phillips (2018, p.96) writes that these landscapes are affectual "in that they impact people in a variety of ways beyond the cognitive and the visual," meaning landscapes nurture a panoply of sensorial, emotional, and semi-conscious experiences. Inspired by the writer bell hooks, Soja (1999, p. 195) includes the idea of a "strategic meeting place to promote collective political action against all human forms of oppression" in his definition of Third Space, taking the margins as an opening for radical subjectivities. Some of the proposals in feminist studies–e.g., the emotion's role in shaping spaces in daily life–would be close to understanding the landscape reality from this concept. In contexts of touristification, the transformation of lived landscapes translates into space alienation (e.g., Lefebvre, 1968), place detachment, or worsening mental health conditions. 3. Context: Seville and San Luis as touristic spaces Seville started developing a tourism industry more than a century ago, tourism being intricated in its urban development. The city’s first large-scale modernization revolved around the 1929 Iberoamerican Exhibition that reshaped urban areas for tourism. Santa Cruz and Arenal concentrated the main sights, reframed as "typical neighborhoods" (Villar Lama & Fernández Tabales, 2017), illustrating how a material landscape is acted upon to create a particular scene. Through the years, those sectors of the historic district consolidated as tourists attractions, while other working-class neighborhoods remained neglected by state and local authorities because of political reasons following the 1936 coup and the Francoist dictatorship. That is the case of the Macarena sector in the historic district’s northern part, where San Luis is a commercial and social axis that spans from north to south, connecting it with traditional tourist areas. The road is practically straight for its entire 800-meter (approximately half a mile) length, with greater breadth than the 16 its renovation from the city and regional administrations since 2000 without success. Its destiny contrasts with another landmark: the Baroque San Luis Chuch. After a costly restoration, it opened to the public in 2017, contributing to more tourists in the street and surrounding areas, as different interviewees pointed out. This opening aligns with the city's strategy to extend tourist flows into these neighborhoods by activating new attractions. As we said before, the built environment comprises not only landmarks; other typologies have been altered, such as Rompemoldes. The city has reinterpreted the former corralón so that today encompasses workshops on the first floor and housing on the second, but instead of potters, carpenters, or minor repair services who were evicted, now there are architects, visual artists, or designers, with artisans as a minority. Rompemoldes has been enshrined as one of the creative spaces of the historic district (García et al., 2016), which is part of a broader urban strategy intended to turn industrial land uses into tertiary spaces, with a strong emphasis on technology businesses. Although the reconversion strategy has begun to pay off, it is not due to technology businesses but the tourism sector. The changes in the social and physical landscape are apparent, for example, when Airbnb recommends the experience of visiting Rompemoldes. Other old corralones and manufacturing spaces in the San Luis surroundings are suffering from similar processes of disinvestment, displacement, and substitution (Barrero-Rescalvo, 2023). Rompemoldes is an increasingly well-known tourist attraction of the “alternative Seville,” which diverges with the anti-capitalist and anti-gentrification nature of the disappeared squatted social centers. A large part of the material landscapes is public spaces. There have been several changes in San Luis and its immediate surroundings, including the street renovation from San Marcos to Pumarejo in 2014. Most long-term residents told us they lobbied for new trees and benches, but the city did not hear their demands. Moreover, two open spaces connected by San Luis experienced significant changes. In 2019, the city inaugurated a new square around the Basilica of Macarena, where there had previously been two rows of parking spaces and a taxi stand. A long-standing resident, I12_SC, commented, "they took off the asphalt and made a hard, pedestrian space that could have been used for something else. And they didn't plant trees […] In the summer, it's unbearable, but the sightseeing buses can unload easily" (Figure 3). This intervention has created a new tourist hotspot and is attuned to the pretensions of the Macarena cofradía or lay 17 brotherhood to expand its visibility and tourist value; its exhibition hall is the highestearning space in that area (Parejo, 2020). A few interviewees also associate the lack of trees in the area with not hindering built environment aesthetics, as it is easier to take pictures. The Council also repaved and pedestrianized San Marcos square. Most shopkeepers and businessmen interviewed considered this to be a change for the better, while residents were ambivalent: some liked it, and others complained about the increase in the number of outdoor eating and drinking, especially those that have sprung up next to the façade of the church: “these tables and chairs seem really invasive to me” (I5_FD). Figure 3. Tourists in front of the Basilica of Macarena and the Medieval City Gate. Source: authors. November 2019. 5.2. Social landscapes The social landscapes are mediated by the people who constitute and shape them daily. As most interviewees pointed out, touristification has primarily impacted by reducing the number of residents. For instance, I3_SD, who was recently displaced because her landlord jacked up the rent, comments that “people are forced out because of tourism […] The human landscape is changing fast, and shops are too. There is a modification in traditional shops for fancy bars.” In the same line, I1_SC, a long-standing resident, explains that displacees “often go in silence, and only the closest neighbors or the shop next door knows. […] When a business closes, you see it because you usually walk by. When a neighbor goes, […] it is unnoticed by many people." Notably, current and former residents include business changes in their perception of tourism-led shifting dynamics. 18 Before focusing on retail change, I11_FC gives an account of the reasons behind displacement: “housing prices have gone up, which is normal as the years get by, but the issue is that students and workers don’t find places to live anymore because all is for tourists.” She refers to the proliferation of STRs, which often do not have a sign on the building's façade; they can only be visually identified by a password-protected door, lockboxes, or locks with keys fastened to a bar on a window or next to the door. I13_SC has dubbed these lockboxes “a symbol of tourist accommodations in the neighborhood.” When analyzing retailscapes, we observe that more than half of the establishments have experienced changes since 2008. A total of 27 have disappeared: 9 have closed, and no business has replaced them, while 16 have closed, being substituted by other typologies (figure 4). The reason is not only touristification; others point to the economic crisis, increasing online commerce, or competition from department stores. Nevertheless, some of the new retail typologies are associated with tourism trends. Bakeries, hair salons, and grocery shops are the most common parlors shutting down. Among the new establishments are a supermarket, five shops selling organic products, and two barbershops more expensive than previous hair salons, in line with the area's transformation. Moreover, as most owners and shop assistants admit, other businesses have appeared in formerly empty retail spaces like craft and flamenco fashion design parlors or souvenir shops catering to tourists. The informal conversations with the businesses in the area illustrate that between 40% and 80% of their customers are tourists, except for the hardware store, two stationary bookshops, and two grocery shops, which nevertheless have also noticed the tourist increase. A grocer close to the San Gil told us that "if there is no tourism, we will go under," while pointing to the buildings around his shop turned into STRs. He bitterly explains how everything is geared towards tourists and that, when there are no tourists, like in winter, "nothing happens." The retail change entails typologies substitutions, and the remaining businesses adjust their prices and aesthetics to a new public. This is the case of one of the oldest cafés in San Marcos square, which has installed luggage consignment lockers on its premises in agreement with the landlords of STRs in the area, as the bartender admitted to us. I4_SD pointed out how, even before her landlord sold their building to a private developer to turn it into STRs, she had stopped consuming in those spots: “a café that wipes out half a square with their chairs and tables is not respecting the neighborhood vibe, a way of being and living.” Participants have different opinions: while most residents criticize the loss of 19 shops where they had consumed for a long time, shopkeepers and business owners, especially newer ones, praise tourism as their primary source of income and do not see the activity as unfavorable. In fact, some expect tourism to continue growing. Figure 4. An old shop sign (a café) and a new clothing business. Source: authors. December 2019. 5.3. Symbolic landscapes The analysis of the symbolic landscape requires an examination of the images of San Luis Street that public and private institutions put into circulation to promote tourism in the area. In line with the strategy of expanding tourism flows northwards, the city has invested in different campaigns about the Basilica of Macarena and the San Luis Church. The official raison d’etre of reordering of tourist flows is the saturation of the traditional tourism hotspots in Santa Cruz or Arenal, around Seville’s UNESCO World Heritage Sites. But, as one displaced resident mentions, it is “more likely they [the Council] are thinking that if there is more to see, the tourists will stay longer” (I1_SC). Seville Tourism, the local government's tourist office, has recently designed a route through churches, cloisters, and civil buildings to "connect the Renaissance, Baroque, and Gothic- Mudejar Seville" (Guzmán, 2019). This monumentalist image complements the Council’s narratives to rebrand San Luis as the city's most "chameleon-like" area, the favorite of yuppies, artists, and hipsters. Seville Tourism refers to the area as bohemian and creative, including some restaurants that have appeared in recent years as the best "to have a good brunch," a meal imported to satisfy tourists' consumption practices. Simultaneously, the national promotion tourist office describes San Luis and Pumarejo as "neighborhoods 20 with a folkloric feel." Tourism-related private companies adopt a similar stand. For example, Lonely Planet, which named Seville the best city to visit in 2018, says that "there is another modern, alternative, dynamic and renewed Seville; one that supports environmentally friendly options, responsible consumption and which gets around by bike or tram." 3 The recent rebranding alongside urban the aforementioned changes means that real estate companies advertise properties in the area as an investment for STRs purposes; a search on Idealista and Fotocasa websites illustrates how they marketize the area on similar accounts. Interviewees mention real estate predatory mailing strategies with catchphrases prompting homeowners to sell their properties too. Travel guide companies have assumed similar narratives, describing the area as the "Seville of the Sevillians" and commodifying its industrial, deprived past. For instance. they recommend visiting the Pumarejo House as an example of a mansion-turned- tenement, "where until recently, rooms, bathrooms and the basin for washing clothes were shared," romanticizing and depoliticizing a working-class life that has disappeared today. Touring companies have assumed and reproduced these ideas; I6_FD, a former resident, recounts: "I have come across tourist guides in the Pumarejo area, and they tell tourists the same story as always, the tales about a marginal neighborhood." Likewise, the Seville Tourism website echoes the Pumarejo as the "headquarters of alternative social movements," and, ironically, the House has hosted CACTUS since its birth in 2017. CACTUS is a grassroots movement that questions the tourist model by visualizing its negative consequences; they have pursued that by organizing meetups with community groups and neighborhood associations from Seville and other southern European cities. CACTUS challenges hegemonic tourism narratives, opposing touristification by highlighting, among others, the expulsion of residents. Several representations of the area--popular, bohemian, and activist--do the rounds in the promotional discourses as well as in anti-establishment narratives. Related to the symbolic space and connected to the social landscape, the conflict over touristification is visible through graffiti, stickers, or banners. Most of them refer to the housing problem, like the increase in rental prices and the proliferation of STRs. In two of the STRs buildings recognizable from the street, close to San Gil church, stenciled 3 For more information, visit www.spain.info, www.visitasevilla.es, or www.lonelyplanet.es. (accessed November 2022). 21 graffiti reads: "I wanted to live here, but they turned it into a tourist flat." On the northern end of the street, next to the Basilica, graffiti shows the geographic limitations of the touristified area, pointing to the area outside the historic district as "True Macarena" while the other side is as "Touristland.” Stickers with sentences such as "Mass tourism kills the city" have plagued the new tourist signage installed along San Luis Street. Regarding these signals, an interviewee comments on the mobility problems that cause: “because of their design, they have to be separated from facades and put in the middle of the sidewalk, disrupting the flow of pedestrians on a street that is already not particularly accessible” (I8_SC). 5.4. Lived landscapes The change in the lived landscapes had prominence in the interviews. The residents experience touristification as a stripping of "social networks" and memories or, as I10_FC says, a "dispossession of daily life." In terms of the sensory aspect, the residents mentioned, above all, the noise coming from STRs at night, primarily parties, and the sound of the suitcases on the cobblestones, which represents a new soundscape: "starting four years ago, the change in the sounds has been noticeable. I didn't hear the rat-a-tat- tat of suitcases on my street […] If you have a suitcase, you will sleep in a tourist flat because there are no hotels in my area” (I1_SC). This happens around Pumarejo square, where conflicts have risen because of homeless people. Perhaps for that reason, the Pumarejo House is not mentioned in the tourist signage, even though the mansion is a designated landmark. In recent years, increased policing and anti-homeless benches in the square have been a source of conflict among neighbors (Navarro, 2018) for hiding what is bothersome in order to clean up the area without resolving the problem. Regarding the emotional experiences, there are two differentiated positions among interviewees depending on their personal history: whether they have been displaced or are still residents. Current neighbors express fear of displacement. For instance, I9_FC says that "the Cathedral used to be the area to take pictures, and the Macarena where people lived, but now is becoming for tourists only." I14_SC comments that “the biggest pressure I feel is that sooner or later my time to go come, to say nothing of being upset about having friends who have been forced to leave.” These residents experience some tourism-based emotional damage due to fear of rising rents or depriving living conditions when having a STR next door and the uncertainty caused by the loss of networks and 22 social bonds. However, these affective landscapes translate into resistance practices. San Luis daily geographies have resulted in strategic alliances within social movements around the Pumarejo House and before in 'La Revo,’ where feminist collectives and dissident identities have developed emancipating practices of community care and cooperation, grounded in a shared spatial consciousness4. It is no accident that such collectives consider their existence antagonistic to tourism's growth (Figure 5). Figure 5. "La Revo's" sign hung in the Pumarejo square (with the House in the background) on eviction day, stating: "fewer tourists flats, more feminist spaces." Source: photography curtesy of Maite Iglesias, April 2018. Concerning the displaced neighbors, one interviewee comments on how she experienced her loss, her expulsion from the neighborhood: “It was painful for me to leave […] because [the neighborhood] is no longer part of my daily life. Despite tourism, gentrification, or prices increasing, it still has something mine. Or maybe I'm the one who preserves it” (I2_SD). She shows deep sorrow, affecting her sense of belonging and relationship with personal and social memories in the neighborhood. For example, San Luis Street was crucial because “my children walked it to school for twelve years” and, concerning the neighborhood importance, says: “When my son began to go alone [to school], I knew that everyone was watching him. I felt that if something happened to him, 4 For more information, visit https://larevoluciona.wordpress.com/ and https://pumarejo.org/colectivos/ (accessed April 2021). 23 I would find out. The neighbors knew him and that he's my son.” This is an example of an emotional landscape change that interferes with the neighborhood's daily life, which is also connected with the transformation of the social landscapes. Another recent displaced, I15_SD, wants to imagine a different scenario: “I would like for younger people to be able to settle down in the neighborhood and not have to go to another place.” In general, residents and displaced neighbors alike show hopelessness in the face of a process of uprooting. 6. Concluding remarks Cities are built and developed according to capitalist demands, i.e., the dominant class drives the production of urban space in their constant search for accumulating wealth. In Western cities at the turn of the 21st Century, those demands shifted from industrial production to tertiary activities, such as real estate and tourism. The resulting economic structure meant changes in the valorization of urban land, with gentrification kicking in previously industrial or central but neglected neighborhoods. Tourism has also gained importance, especially in urban economies highly dependent on the sector, like southern European cities. In such contexts, touristification impacts urban living at many different instances and levels. We complement recent overtourism and touristification studies through diverse qualitative analyses of urban landscape change, relying on previous studies on gentrification. Drawing on Phillip’s (2018) work, we propose a fourdimensional approach to examining the landscapes of touristification. The dimensions are different ontological frames to analyze the process from different angles: they are essentially dialectical, so we cannot compartmentalize them. The proposal thus adopts a holistic understanding of the urban phenomenon, which justifies articulating landscape conceptualizations that delve into touristification, combining different analyses from disciplines converging on the city. We explore a case on a street scale that can be extrapolated to other places where tourism-driven urban change has had—or still has—a strong impact. Singularly, our proposal could potentially be used at other urban scales or to compare cases at street scales. In this regard, the paper is an exploratory exercise to approach a complex process and is open for improvement. Further research could focus on widening each landscape dimension and working deeper on their relations or distinct elements, for example, on the digitalscapes, searching for narratives online, or on soundscapes (e.g., Sánchez-Fuarros, 2016). Other variables could also be considered, such as labor landscapes or flavourscapes, attesting how food menus in cafés and 24 restaurants have adjusted to visitors with a different taste than locals, including lifestyle migrants and digital nomads, calling for additional research on the interplay between touristification and transnational gentrification. Despite this, we are able to make some concluding remarks on the case of San Luis in Seville. Touristification has a profound impact on Seville's historic district. Previous accounts have studied the process vis-à-vis gentrification (e.g., Jover and Díaz-Parra, 2020), showing how both overlap. Through adopting a relational approach that combines the four landscape categories at a street scale, we have understood the ways in which elements that might go unnoticed are transforming urban space. For example, the public and private investment that has upscaled San Luis' public spaces and built environment has transformed its material landscapes. A few neighbors and some shopkeepers saw it positively and not entirely connected to tourism. If we exclusively deal with these views, pay attention to symbolic discourses crafted by institutions, or check the official STRs register, touristification could be non-existent. However, observing from the street and comparing the current situation with that of 2008, we acknowledge a relationship between the transformation of the physical landscape and tourism due to the proliferation of STRs. Moreover, the testimony and experiences of residents and displacees confirm the change from residential to tourist uses, including landlords–in coalition with real estate agencies– hiking rents that trigger resident displacement. Those changes in the social landscape give additional clues about the transformation in other spheres, like retail. While not all of these changes are tourism-driven, we observe how many newly-opened businesses have adapted their services and goods to visitors more quickly than other traditional ones (fishmongers, drug stores, corner shops). Cafés and restaurants, environmentally-friendly shops, and craft workshops offer better-specialized services, corresponding to the symbolic landscape of the modern and alternative aesthetics that the local government and tour operators have manufactured online and in situ through guided tours and tourism signage. This promotion is coupled with the tourist offer that focuses on the San Luis church or the Basilica of Macarena, which are religious-type landmarks tourists traditionally visit in Seville. Touristification thus produces new urban spaces by remaking landscapes as commodities, a process that is multidimensional. The social landscape has changed, but tourism encapsulates and romanticizes the profitable part, its collective memories worth selling, while side-lining and displacing the people that built them. San Luis, a formerly working- 25 class, deprived street, is either reinterpreted for tourist purposes (e.g., Rompemoldes) or neglected (e.g., Pumarejo House). Authorized discourses on the area avoid mentioning struggles for social justice or against inequalities, using sweetened words such as “alternative” or “bohemian” that hides the social protests' anti-capitalist dimension. The analysis of lived landscapes accounts for this process as residents and displacees testimonies illustrate the growing disaffection and territorial uprooting of their lives. Even though gentrification through the 1990s and 2000s transformed the class relationships in the neighborhood, tourism-driven tensions have resurfaced its long-standing vindicative character and reignited debates about the right to housing and the city. Direct actions, stickers, and graffiti are evidence of the conflict, mainly aiming at the mentioned increase in STRs as the more vivid landscape element driving touristification. The process produces an urban landscape that hides or manipulates the neighborhood's working-class history, invisibilizing suffering (dispossession, evictions) and transformation (mutual aid, self-defense) narratives. This also impacts the psychological and emotional level, adding to the feeling of alienation and the difficulties in envisioning other possible futures. Finally, contesting this tourist model brings together a non-conventional collaboration between the remaining working and middle classes; we found homeowners and tenants, young and middle-aged professionals, and increasingly precarious workers among those opposing touristification. Within the latter, the presence of working-class women is outstanding, as the tourist disruption has significantly impacted them: most of our displaced interviewees were women. Despite those who own businesses or work in them having a better opinion about tourism, most people along San Luis saw their negative transformative effect, illustrating a rupture in the traditional consensus that identifies tourism with thriving economies and benefits for everyone. Through exploring urban landscape change, the tourism versus capital contradiction becomes vivid, i.e., the search for profits entails "authentic" places, but simultaneously it brings about the standardization of all categories of the landscape for its reproduction. The situation calls for more research into the tourism-led uneven development in and between cities, regions, and states to assess better tourism's psychological impact on people’s lives and, thus, how spaces of coexistence and sociability are disaffected and emotional landscapes are dismantled.