Monday, Apr. 20, 1970
World's Fair, Asian Style
THE soft, bamboo-covered Senri Hills, which slope gently skyward beyond the city of Osaka, have for centuries been home only to snakes and a host of insects. Not any more; at least, not for the moment. Today the Senri range, the site of Japan's gaudy Expo '70, throbs with life. After only four weeks, the turnstiles at the 815-acre, 73-nation exhibit have clicked off 8,500,000 visitors. The one-day high: 441,000, about equal to the entire population of Buffalo, N.Y. Before the rising sun sets on the 183-day extravaganza, some 50 million Japanese (plus 1,000,000 foreigners) are expected to have visited the grounds. Without a doubt, Expo '70 will be one of the most popular world's fairs in history.
The fair has plenty to offer the Japanese and wondrous sights to please the eye of the international fair-hopper. The U.S. Pavilion, where the lines and the wait (as much as five hours) are the longest, is most popular. Sports and space --sure winners in Japan--dominate the "Images of America" theme. By far the biggest attraction of the pavilion--and the fair--is a moon rock brought back by Apollo astronauts. The crowds are also taken with an Andy Granatelli turbocar and, in baseball-crazy Japan, by Babe Ruth's old Yankee uniform and locker. The space display is understated and effective. Alan Shepard's Freedom 7 Mercury spacecraft, Gemini 12 and the command module of Apollo 8 are suspended just above visitors' heads; a lunar landing vehicle perches like a water bug near the moon rock. There is plenty of Pop art, courtesy of Andy Warhol and sundry American artists, but they have been upstaged by an American exhibit (Winslow Homer, Edward Hopper and Andrew Wyeth, among others) from New York City's Metropolitan Museum.
Siberian Forest. If the U.S. Pavilion is subtly propagandistic, the Soviet (two to three hours' wait) is strictly hard-sell. The visitor is immediately overwhelmed by an Orwellian film of Lenin haranguing a crowd. Since Russia is pushing the centennial of Lenin's birth (TIME, April 13), there is an inevitable glass case filled with Lenin artifacts, including his Communist Party ID card. Perhaps the most startling experience for a visitor is to step off an escalator and find himself in a remarkable, lifelike Siberian forest, complete with cool breezes and chirping birds. The Soviet space exhibit, emphasizing the Soyuz complex, is decidedly more dramatic than the U.S. display.
Canada's exhibit ranks next in popularity. It boasts soaring mirrored walls and rustic wood facing under colorful revolving umbrellas, and is the best-managed exhibit of the fair: 4,000 people move completely through it each hour. Five separate films underscore Canada's youthful exuberance, a theme reinforced by the hard-rocking discotheque that opens late in the afternoon at the Quebec Pavilion.
Inside other pavilions, there are some adroit and intriguing touches. The Mexican Pavilion features Aztec relics from the Mexico City National Museum of Anthropology, set off by a mariachi band. The Indians and Hawaiians have improvised a pacifier for impatient queues: luscious dancing girls in native costumes. For comic relief, there is the Cuban Pavilion, festooned with love portraits of Castro and Che Guevara counterpointed by hate pictures of Batista and bloated capitalistas.
Although its happy theme was particularly inappropriate after last week's disaster in downtown Osaka (see THE WORLD), the Japanese Gas Association's pavilion has been a favorite of the crowds. In addition to its collection of amusing works by Joan Miro, it has a continuous screen showing of skits by a Japanese comedy team called the Crazy Cats. In Japan's highly popular Steel Pavilion, 1,300 loudspeakers emit a cacophonic music. Visitors are also transfixed by the mechanized Noguchi fountains in the Pond of Dreams, especially by Comet, which rises 108 ft. out of the water and at night resembles a huge rocket leaving the launching pad.
The Czech exhibit is the most original and aesthetically creative at the fair--a repeat of that country's triumph at the 1958 World Exhibition in Brussels. The pavilion is dominated by two spiraling pieces of modern glass sculpture. Among the imposing welded sculpture and cast-glass figures of the main pavilion, there is an immense iron bell, which visitors are invited to toll. In Expoland (the amusement area), the Czechs are showing an improved version of Laterna Magika, the combination of multi-projector movie wall and live acting that was the hit of Montreal's Expo 67.
Samurai Valor. Logistical problems are practically a world's-fair tradition, and Japan's has its share. Expo '70's biggest headache is overpopulation. The guards display samurai valor in coping with the surging crowds, but their methods may be disquieting to the Occidental. If the unsuspecting visitor fails to respond quickly enough to their directions, bellowed through bullhorns, he stands in danger of being trampled by the fast-moving Japanese, who are accustomed to reacting promptly--and in large groups --to orders from guards. There are long lines--and as much as a five-hour wait --to get into the most popular pavilions.
Only the boldest and bravest of Westerners will tread upon the moving sidewalks or the brimming monorail, which always looks as if it is carrying troops to the front. One group of elderly ladies piled up on the sidewalk like dominoes; 42 of them were injured, and the walk was shut down for days. Electric shuttle cars, which generally have been immobilized by the huge crowds of pedestrians, may soon be taken out of service.
Little Innovation. Although walking is recommended, the footsore and weary fairgoer will have some difficulty replenishing spent energy. The food is generally better than it was at Expo 67, but the lines are once again a problem at the better restaurants (Belgian, French, Russian) and the service ranges from indifferent to abominable. Main-course prices usually run from $2.50 to $7. The most economical bets are the snack restaurants, where imitation hot dogs made from fish are only 20-c-, tempura noodles 35-c-, roast eel 56-c-, fried chicken 84-c- and a Mongolian burger (thin barbequed steak) for $1.40.
Another fault is the fair's lack of innovation. Many visitors have complained that they saw little that was basically different from what was presented at Montreal in 1967. Such observations from world travelers matter little to the Japanese, who are enjoying Asia's first world's fair to the fullest. In any case, Expo '70 is well worth the trip for the Westerner who has never seen a world's fair--or Japan. The crowds may sometimes be unnerving, but they are part of the fun. If anyone wanders astray, there is a smoothly functioning lost-and-found center to guide him back to his group. So far it has worked for several hundred wayward Japanese.
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