It's mid-afternoon on a mist-laden weekday in Shanghai and the vista that stretches to the west, toward the river, is unbelievable. It's not that the mix of drenched air and pollution have combined to create a mirage. The problem - or maybe the word is hallucination - is that this is Shanghai, in China, at the entrance to the 2010 Expo and there are no people.
Actually, that's not quite accurate. There are people, but none are visitors. The humanoids on this part of the planet are all security guards and about 100 are arranged around what look like cattle pens but are actually crowd control barriers. These bright white plastic fences are designed to funnel many thousands of visitors in a zig zag line from gate eight of the expo to the machines that check admission tickets. But there was only me. And I still had to walk the zig-zag - 30 zigs and zags altogether - to get to the security cordon.
So far, so not impressed. Although at least, in this case, gaining access to the US$58 billion site did not entail a fist fight with thousands of others, a fate that befell some visitors on the expo's opening day. The pressing question is whether all that money has created a design spectacle that lives up to the hype. After all, when the gross domestic product of a small country is spent on the pavilions of 83 countries one expects something special for the money.
A walkway beyond the entrance offers an elevated stroll to the first scheduled destination - France. Along the way the Russian, Polish, Serbian and African pavilions can be glimpsed and each one has a few Gehry-esque twirls and a couple of Norman Foster-like exterior gantries. A train made of golfcarts whizzes by and the design aesthetic feels more 1980s theme park than 21st-century cutting edge.
The French pavilion was designed by Jacques Ferrier Architects and it's a simple building with a big-style French garden inside. Surrounded by water it's supposed to look like it's floating. It doesn't. Visitors ascend to the top of the building in order to walk down a ramp that descends via images of France that are projected onto the walls. The ramps are crowded with people from China's provinces taking pictures of their friends and family as they stand in front of a movie of the Eiffel Tower. Close to the exit is an installation by Louis Vuitton that creates the feeling of a Parisian romance.
The Spanish pavilion had a much stronger design buzz, as one might expect from a country that has cradled the talent of Frank Gehry (who designed the Bilbao Guggenheim) and Antoni Gaudi. The pavilion's wicker-basket exterior has a sensual and organic feel and inside visitors can be startled by an eight-metre model of a baby and giant projections of Picasso sketching. Designed by Miralles/Tagliabue - EMBT the pavilion tries to invoke a synthesis of traditional Spanish and Chinese crafts.
After a pause for Belgian pommes frites with mayonnaise (the best part of the Belgian pavilion experience, apart from some gorgeous diamonds and a brilliant movie in the European Union annex of two dancers making a pen and ink drawing) it was on to the British pavilion.
