In the seaside town of Musselburgh, The Gallery At Eskmills is part of a larger renovation of the old Stuart's Mills, whish at its height employed 800 people making rope and nets. In Edinburgh's Old Town, the Infirmary Street Baths have been transformed into Dovecot Studios' new tapestry-making base, along with two spacious galleries dedicated to contemporary crafts.
Perhaps the most surprising move, however, comes from gallery director Richard Ingleby. Leaving behind the refined intimacy of his Georgian townhouse on Carlton Terrace, Ingleby has occupied The Venue, a famously dark, grimy music venue rising like cliffs above the train station. Ingleby visited The Venue once, he says, "in such a state that I can't quite remember who it was I heard".
I visit the building during its transformation from gunge to gravitas, and already it's hard to imagine the sweat dripping form the ceilings. Scottish oak floors have been laid; the walls are of course pristine white; and daylight streams through the ceiling-height sash windows, despite the clouds outside. The proud new owner gives me a tour, starting with the first-floor exhibition space.
"Walking into this building for the first time," explains Ingleby, "it was a wrecj. We had to come up the outside of the building through a little door in the corner - and the surprise of this wonderful, open light space was exactly th ekind of feeling I'd been searching for". Enchanted by the experience, Ingleby resisted the temptation to put in an imposing central staicase, and instead positioned a "sort of hidden staircase" so that visitors can enjoy the same surprise.
From nine evenly spaced windows you can see Waverley's London platform, and the ceiling is supported by a row of nononsense metal pillars. Several of Ingleby's artists have already commented that it "feels like one of those galleries that used to exist in New York 10 or 15 years ago, when all the galleries were in SoHo, with that, small-scale warehousey feel".
Downstairs, the ground floor, with its glass frontage, provides more exhbition space, a dedicated print section and a project room for emerging atists with distinct echoes of the Collective Gallery. The basement - once the notorious Cooler - will house storage, offices and a private viewing space for buyers. If this once "celebrated dark, corner of Edinburgh" has any ghosts, thery're well hidden away.
With all this at his disposal, Ingleby has plans for more than just exhibitions. Events will include a regular film club, talks, poetry readings and live music; he even has a slate of artists scheduled to ehibit on the prominent billboard attached to the building (the first year will see posters from Mark Wallinger, Rachel Whiteread, Bob and Roberta Smith, and Cerith Wyn Evans). Ingleby is confident that the new venue, "part of people's personal histories of Edinburgh", will attraact visitors who were intimidated by his place at Carlton Terrace.
In the old gallery, Ingleby used to work at an upstairs window where he could see people outside. "I have seen people arrive and look," he said, "and change their minds and go away again. I wanted to run down the road after them, shouting, "It's OK - we're friendly - come in!", but you can't. It has been quite discreet - and this is anything but."



