Ten acres at the intersection of Cleveland’s two main axes—the geographic heart of the city since General Moses Cleaveland laid out the original plan in 1796. For two centuries, Public Square has been where Cleveland gathers: Civil War soldiers departing for battle, workers striking for better wages, crowds celebrating championships, mourners marking tragedy.

By 1994, the Square reflected Cleveland’s complicated present. The Terminal Tower still anchored one corner—once the tallest building outside New York, now surrounded by taller structures in other cities. The Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Monument still honored the dead. But the downtown retail that once drew crowds had fled to suburban malls, and the Square sometimes felt more like a bus stop than a civic gathering place.

Yet change was stirring. Just blocks away, Jacobs Field had opened months earlier. The Gateway District was beginning to revive. Cleveland, written off by many as permanently declined, was starting to believe recovery was possible.

Masumi photographed Public Square at exactly this moment—between eras, between identities. Her panorama captures the architecture and urban design, but also the psychology of a city tentatively emerging from decades of struggle. The Square as it always was: Cleveland’s center, where hope and disappointment meet.