La La land? Dubai 2010

It is our last morning of our whistle stop visit to Dubai, and it is off to sample some more of the city’s delights with a friend who lives in the City, and hearing the stories of how crazy everything was getting before the bubble burst, it was like La-La-land she tells us, I have no idea where La-La-land is...Hollywood, dream state, out of touch with reality perhaps, either way I think the term sums it up beautifully.

It seems that everything to do in Dubai involves going to a mall, in this case the Dubai Mall, I would say slightly more upmarket than the Mall of the Emirates, in fact probably as upmarket as it gets, here the same designer shops are accommodated in a more sophisticated, designed environment, an environment of exquisite minimalism that complements the exhibits in the shops. In the middle of a huge drum-like space stands a model of one of Dubai’s next mega projects, ‘The Dubai Pearl’ a cluster of tacky ornamented towers centred around what resembles a huge glass cube, 70 storeys high with 6 towers combined together by  a 3 storey deck at the top that links all 6. All have planted roofs and are sitting in a lush landscape inside a circular 10 lane highway...

Heading away this vision of the future, it is time to sit outside a coffee shop and enjoy a late breakfast in an environment that is so new that it is still in a state of frantic activity. The centrepiece is the tower that I said resembled Frank Lloyd Wright’s Mile high tower proposal for Chicago when viewed from a distance, in fact it is only half the height, but at 830m, 163 floors is still the world’s tallest building, designed by Chicago Architects SOM, the tower that we all now know as the Burj Khalifa. A walk along the base reveals that work is still very much underway...stainless steel and planar glass viewed across a silver stone plaza with newly transplanted palm trees behind a flimsy barrier of traffic cones and red and white tape fluttering in the breeze.  I had heard that if you book far enough in advance that there are guided tours to the observation deck, think I’ll wait until it is open.

Looking up towards the spire with the sun glinting off the silver facade I cannot help but be awed by the sheer scale of what is being undertaken here.  Panning round the base two towers at Boulevard Plaza that are familiar from the Aedas portfolio are nearing completion. The Khalifa lake with the Dubai Fountain, resembling the Las Vegas Bellagio fountain from the ‘on a day like today’ video from the flight in now stands dormant.  The lake front is lined by arabesque low rise blocks whist the glass towers of downtown Dubai that could have been transplanted from New York, Chicago, Hong Kong... form the backdrop to make this a truly spectacular if not surreal setting.

Stepping back inside the mall to see a fish tank, not just any fish tank, the Dubai Aquarium is the largest acrylic fish tank in the world 20 metres high, 48 metres long, teeming with life, sharks and rays swim among shoals of a whole variety of species and two scuba divers!

The final stop is at Burj al Arab, well, not exactly at the Burj Al Arab, because nobody is allowed onto the island without a booking, so it is a case of standing by the barrier to the causeway having tourist photos taken with the tower in the background, a golf buggy appears from across the causeway to drop off guests at the gatehouse, Tom Wright’s elegant white tower said to based on the sail of a Dhow stands serenely against a what has become a deep blue sky, framed by date palms and a stop sign. Alas the experience of crossing the causeway is one that will have to wait until another day.

Having spent a day and a half in the city, I am impressed by what has been achieved, even though I cannot understand the craziness that has resulted in its current state, the race to be bigger and better than anywhere else has driven our techical abilities to extremes to essentially create something out of nothing.  I mean who had heard of Dubai twenty years ago? other than potentially a transfer point on long haul flights, now like it or not it is a global destination with it’s culture derived from glossy magazines, designer brands and a sense of keeping up with the Jones’s taken to extreme.

Skiing...In the Desert??? Dubai 2010

Friday, our only full day in Dubai on this trip, and the Metro is closed, well until 2.30 anyway...So it is a taxi ride to the Mall of the Emirates, setting out mid-morning onto the empty ten lane highway that was the continual mass of Range Rovers and all manner of other high end cars...Ferrari, Lamborghini, Porsche...the oil refinery in the distance that was sparsely illuminated last evening is now a series of grey towers in the haze, still an oil refinery from this distance, with the exception of one tower stretching high up above the others like a very fine spire resembling Frank Lloyd Wright's 'Mile high tower' proposed for Chicago in 1956.

Passing the shells of the dormant metro, a huge sloping 'shed' appears on the left side of the highway, from in between the nondescript towers. A loop off the highway and to the underground drop off that forms the front door to the what was briefly the worlds largest mall and a demonstration of the ability of developers to create an alternate reality inside a huge, huge air-conditioned container. On entering the mall it has very much the characteristics of any other mall that has been opened in the past decade, elements of Bluewater in Kent, or Birmingham's Bull Ring are installed here from the same global branding manuals that exist for all these retailers.

Along the mall past all the usual suspects that appear in these malls and a glass wall reveals the unique selling point...snow! complete with Alpine ski lodge, ski lifts, bobsleigh run and a whole rabble of people dressed for winter conditions skiing down the slopes between the pine trees, to complete the illusion of an Alpine ski resort. Outside the glass wall in a comfortable 22 degrees, groups of Arabs shoot video of the people playing on the inside.

Some facts from the Ski Dubai website: the indoor park covers some 3000 square metres, is the equivalent of twenty five stories high and is some 80 metres wide. This is the world's largest indoor ski park and boasts 5 runs including a 400m black run, and apparently is home to a number of penguins although I did not know you found penguins in the Alps. It is January but it is 28 degrees outside, -2 on the inside due to super insulation of the external envelope in walls that are 5 metres thick, the temperature drops to -6 at nights and new snow is generated every night, as the 'old' snow melts it is used to cool the rest of the mall, and eventually to irrigate the gardens. It may seem inappropriate, frivolous or just plain insane to build a ski dome in the desert, but as a technical achievement this has to be nothing short of amazing.

Moving on from the Alps in a giant cool box, the Virgin Megastore in all its glory, sadly now missing from the UK cities, a fine representation of what a music store should be, selling everything from CD's, DVD's, band merchandise, and guitars, basses, drums along with some of the kit you need to play in your own band. Into Milano, or at least a plastic reproduction of some of the galleria that define the medieval quarter of Milano, that accommodates the Italian designer names, a seeming contradiction between the high design of the products in the shops and the artificial design of the container. The Gold Souk, clusters all the jewelry shops together in a reproduction of Mid town Manhattan minus the yellow cabs and Empire State building, except the shops are owned by Arabs.

Having spent a day in an alternate reality, it is time to experience the reality of getting back to the apartment using the public transportation system that is so new to this city, the Metro. The route from the Mall to the Metro station is something of a back route out of the Mall, an air conditioned pedestrian bridge threads its way past blank facades to one of the iconic golden shells that define the project. The sun has set without much of a fanfare, no orange glow, just a gradual darkening of the sky, and the towers become sihouettes against the fading light.

The train arrives into the  shell, with its first car dedicated to ladies only, so alighting into the second car which allows mixed couples and families, it is a smooth and efficient journey back to Al Mankhool. As the towers pass by something does not seem to add up, I know it is the weekend but even so the expected cool glow of office blocks bathed in light that defines a buzzing metropolis are lacking, only the standard red lights that define the pinnacles and refuge floors of the blocks. Then it occurs to that these towers were built in the rush of a booming economy, the bubble has burst and the towers stand empty.

The incomplete stations that I had investigated the night before pass by with smooth regularity until the Metro goes to ground and our destination is reached, in the cool blue glow of the underground station, an escalator ride to the surface brings us out into a smaller golden shell, which is one of four at each corner of a large crossroads, with my sleeping ten-month-old daughter in my arms this is no time to walk back to the apartment especially when not exactly sure where it is. So hailing a Dubai taxi, all climbing in to find probably the only cab driver that does not know his way around, proceeding to tell us it is only his second day in the job, strangely we reach the apartments quickly after a pulled out the leaflet with the address on, having exited the cab, noticed lost wallet, reported it to taxi company colleagues, only to find said taxi cabbie was still lost, so flagged him down on his second pass of the block, wallet retrieved ...goodnight La-La-land!

Range Rover Grand Prix - Dubai 2010

I have been flying in and out of Dubai for a number of years but have never stopped to experience the city. I have watched the 'On a Day Like Today' video (using the Bryan Adams song as the soundtrack) shown on Emirates Flights as they approach the city on numerous occasions. The promotional video shows amazing dancing fountains, pristine glass towers immaculate beaches, clear deep blue seas, cloudless blue skies, dramatic dunescapes and sunsets and the high end 'designer' lifestyle that permits one to enjoy it. Flying in over the Persian Gulf, the fabled Palm Islands become visible along with Tom Wright's distinctive Burj Al Arab Hotel on its own little island, and into Perkins and Will's impressive new 'Emirates' terminal, where there must be people of every nationality on the Planet, this really feels like a global hub.

On exiting the terminal through a vast immigration hall and into a 'pleasant' 28 degrees, not bad for January, with hazy a afternoon sky. The drive in the taxi joins the highway to be cut up by a Range Rover, and the driver remarks that they all drive like this here, in fact there are Range Rovers everywhere most of them sporting all the 'bling', living in Solihull, I had often wondered where they all end up when leaving the plant on the back of car transporters...and here they are. The roads feel new, as though placed there only yesterday, the intersections, flyovers that usually are merely functional, have an elegant sculptural quality and the concrete looks pristine, not because it weathers well in  this environment, but because it is painted in a cream colour that reflects the light.

As the sun dips towards the horizon more sculptures form dramatic silhouettes in the haze, those being the shell roofs of the metro stations that I am already familiar with in a sense as my employer at the time, Aedas have been working on them for the past three years and I have watched with interest as the team have developed the kit of parts that is currently being employed, having only previously seen them in in models and renderings in the London Office.

By the time we reach our apartments, home for the next two days, it is dark so the next view of the city is by night. Setting out from Golden Sands in the Al Mankhool district, vaguely near to the Dubai Creek, with a good friend of mine it is a walk with no map generally in the direction of the towers, that from this distance resemble an oil refinery with coloured lights picking out key elements. Having crossed Sheikh Zayed Road, a highway that must be at least ten lanes wide, more Range Rovers in a kind of Range Rover Grand Prix make the crossing quite an experience, electing not to even attempt the crossing directly, it is quite a walk to the traffic lights alongside the starting grid, even though the lights are on red it is more than a leisurely run across the first five lanes because as soon as amber show, they are off, apparently there is a minimum speed limit of 60kph, which they all seem to observe religiously.

Having successfully negotiated the first stage of the Grand Prix the most direct route seems to be along some residential roads, lined with villas behind walls with lush green planting poking over the top, past a mosque with what must be the largest empty surface car park I have ever seen. The oil refinery starts to fragment as we move closer taking on the form of individual towers, the pavement that we are walking on abruptly ceases to exist and trying to walk without dodging the traffic involves walking through sand pits that are laid out with plastic irrigation pipes, clearly awaiting the arrival of planting for the pipes to feed. A small wedge of pavement appears and a group of Asian workers wait in an air conditioned bus shelter for an air conditioned bus which actually resembles a National Express coach more than a city bus. The next encounter with the Grand Prix is the Trade Centre Roundabout, where the window between red and amber is smaller and the run becomes a sprint across the road.

Heading along the Sheikh Zayed Road, a kind of Las Vegas Strip in reverse, where the buildings but up to the road and the parking lots are at the rear, it is as though Fifth Avenue has been transplanted from Manhattan Island, as many of the blocks resemble the 1920's skyscrapers that define New York, there are new additions of course, some are bland glass towers, others forms strange shapes for no other reason than because they can. The traffic along the strip is light for a Thurdsay Night (this is the same as a Friday night in the 'Western' World), passing a hotel lobby that is sitting in the middle of a construction site, another of the ubiquitous Range Rovers pulls up and out totter two women in sky-high heels trying to elegantly make an entrance into the hotel bar across the sand and broken paving.

The lights in the distance that once looked like a nearby oil refinery seem to be moving ever further away, as the distance opens up after passing three metro stations, which must be at 1000m intervals, it is time to take a break (a fruit juice at Costa, costing a princely sum of Eight Pounds), and head back. The metro has recently opened, but many of the stations seem to be in a state of work in progress, some accessible, others marooned on a sand island behind flimsy traffic barriers. A quick look at one that is open, reveals just how large the whole project is, inside a sloping golden shell and up the escalator to the footbridge that crosses the strip, an enclosed tube that is strangely familiar to me, the last time it was on my computer screen, in a SketchUp model that I was preparing for a concourse on another railway station entirely, the power of collaborative working. The project that I was working on was a demonstration project, so was never likely to be built, but here it is in the place I least expected it, great!

Having experienced a small part of Dubai on the ground at night I am intrigued to find out what it is like by day, which towers those distant lights belong to and is the Metro really open...

The Beaubourg Experiment? Paris 1995

Following on from my previous post on Archigram, this is an account of my first encounter with what could be argued as the legacy of Archigram, some architectural books make reference to being a manifestation of Peter Cook's Plug-in City, having read about the project extensively I would say that it represents far more than that. From the terrace of the Sacre Coeur (Basilica of the Sacred Heart), the Parisian roofscape stretches out for miles into a vast, diverse panorama, the bustle of the densely packed streets seems far removed from here. In amongst the slate rooftops a splash of blue interrupts the scene, it’s not new in fact it has been part of the scene for over twenty years. The splash of blue nestling between the rooftops belongs to the air conditioning and ventilation ducting of Centre Pompidou. The legendary product of the union of Renzo Piano and Richard Rogers.

On the approach from the sloping piazza with its huge white, steel air intakes that would not look out of place aboard an ocean liner. There was an artist offering to draw caricatures for 500 Francs or some price that I could not afford at the time, however there were some good sketches of Mick Jagger and David Bowie. The Piazza was otherwise populated by clusters of students much the same as our party, looking, examining, taking photographs. I don’t remember exactly which day of the week it was, but there is one day a week that all the Parisian Museums are closed for cleaning, all of them on the same day!

Unfortunately the day that we picked to go to Beaubourg, was ‘cleaning day’. The fabled escalator tubes that climb diagonally skywards across the East facade were stood dormant; the only people within the tubes were indeed the cleaners. So the arguably, best experience that Paris has to offer for free was unavailable to the public. The ‘building’, ‘Centre Nationale de Arts et de Culture de Georges Pompidou (CNAC)’ that I had understood as the Pompidou  Centre or simply Pompidou, was one that I knew was an‘inside out’ building to allow for the interior to be arranged freely and rearranged at will.

However, a close inspection from ground level. The huge white steel columns, the elaborate system of cross bracing and tension rods, the dramatic, skeletal, highly crafted cantilevers known as gerberettes, seemingly supporting the escalators, raised enough interest for me to be reading books and asking questions for a very long time. At the northern end of the piazza, adjacent the entrance to the escalator tube, the concept of supporting great indeterminate floor spaces becomes apparent with the full depth of the building visible, the sheer size of the trusses that span from front to back, 48 metres to be precise. The whole mechanism that holds these beams in place is illustrated immaculately at full scale. The East facade, on the Rue de Renard presents a completely different picture from the one of the West facade. The elaborate of cluster of ventilation ducts, supply pipes threaded in around the structure. The structural bays almost hidden beneath the services, being defined by the cross bracing, each bay slightly different, air conditioning in one, passenger lifts in another. The issue of addressing urban context with such a large building is well resolved, the components give a varied level of interest and incident to all of the 'facades' which address the cafes that sit opposite.

At the time of my visit the colours of the external ductwork were not so strident, faded and partially hidden beneath a thick layer of grime and pigeon droppings. But somehow the used look permits it to ‘fit in’ to the tight grain of Paris as though it had always been there. The dull April sky made for some moody images as the escalator tubes and the skeletal frame become silhouetted against the cloud filtered sunlight, has been an enduring image that completely changed the course of my studies in architecture.

Paris 1995