How to Repel the Sand

something i wrote for that's Beijing last June, but soon, too soon it will be relevant again (I'm hiding behind the curtains).

In the old days, village officials in China’s arid north would pray to the gods for rain. These days, when rainfall is badly needed to end droughts – or, increasingly, to clean up the city in advance of Beijing’s “Green Olympics” – the government doesn’t need to offer sacrifices to the heavens: it shoots chemicals at them with anti-aircraft cannons.

While China has been using rainmaking technology since the 1980s to stem droughts, the worst rash of sandstorms to hit Beijing in a decade has given officials new cause for aiming at the skies: giving the city a good rinse. After the roughest of last month’s sand attacks dumped 330,000 tons of sand on the city, the government responded by launching seven rocket shells and burning 163 pieces of “cigarette-like sticks” containing silver iodide. And voila! “The heaviest rainfall in Beijing this spring,” reported Xinhua.

While the effects of rainmaking on local ecosystems and health still remain unknown, there’s something disconcerting about forced rainfall (and it’s not just because cleaning the city apparently must involve chemical apparatus suggestive of a cigarette). “It’s a passive solution, it’s not a solution at all,” says Wen Bo, the local representative for the San Francisco-based group Pacific Environment. Like the “green wall” of trees currently being built to shield Beijing from sand, Wen says rainmaking is at best a quick fix to the sandstorms, which magnify the health dangers of the city’s already heavy smog. Beach weather in Beijing would be better addressed, Wen says, by local governments in nearby Hebei and Inner Mongolia making greater efforts to improve irrigation and vegetation practices and replanting trees.

Complicating the matter, as two recent government studies demonstrate, is disagreement over the cause of sandstorms. One study blames traditional spring ploughing techniques, which loosen topsoil prior to planting, while another identifies the routes that such storms take to reach Beijing, pinpointing the origin not in Chinese farmlands but in the deserts of Mongolia. Whatever the causes may be, Wen worries that rainmaking in Beijing threatens to “wash away not just the dirt, but people’s memory” of the actual problem – a case of saving face, but not necessarily the environment. Alex Pasternack

Arcade Fire: Neon Bible

I can brag that I saw Arcade Fire just after the release of their debut album Funeral, because like the record, that crowded, sweaty night was the clarion call for nothing short of an indie-rock rebirth. Of course Win Butler and Co. band made no attempt to hide their debt to proto indie-rockers like David Byrne or David Bowie or even Bono, all of whom would come to give props or even join them on stage for their second tour (that time through, they sold out the sports arena). And rightly so: for a long while afterwards, little else could touch Funeral’s gorgeously bittersweet energy, a rag-tag marching-band spirit that made death sound lovely. But the after-life, as told on this follow-up, ain’t so sweet. The majestic cities and long loves that coursed through the first album have been upended by wars, hurricanes and other current disquietudes, amongst which Butler’s soaring, heartbroken yowl and the band’s orchestral flourishes are searching for at least a momentary escape. Turning from MTV to the hope of “World War III,” our narrator insists on “Windowsill,” “I don’t want to live in my father’s house no more” and “I don’t want to live in America no more,” just before the triumphal percussion rolls in. Whatever may be missing of the first album’s majesty, whatever sonic novelty may be lost here and whatever despair may be gained, Neon Bible is proof that hope remains, at least for innovative rock music.

Imperial labrynth

Movie Review: Inland Empire

Directed by David Lynch

Like Mulholland Drive, Inland Empire is a place name in that strange American fun-house of a town, Los Angeles. But instead of snaking, it sprawls, and of course it’s much farther from the comfort of shore.

So we find ourselves in Lynch’s new Dadaist horror masterpiece, which he filmed on grainy digital video and (gulp) without a script. Perhaps the plainest indication of what we’re in for is that the movie isn’t even set in its eponymous locale. Whereas Mulholland Drive had Internet message boards buzzing with theories as to its Gordian-knot plot, Inland Empire is a movie best contemplated in the Internet of one’s own dreams … or nightmares. Only here can our interpretations fail gracefully, dissolving into psychedelic fuzz or falling down rabbit holes – much as the heroine does throughout.

At the beginning of the movie, Nikki Grace, an obscure film actress (Laura Dern), lets in a strange visitor. The awkward conversation that ensues is as hilarious as it is frightening, setting the stage for all the sublime discomfort to come. The woman’s two ominous parables, one about the birth of evil and the other about a girl who gets lost at the marketplace, both nod to the freakish Hollywood world that Lynch’s movie concerns and inhabits.

Nikki has just landed a new role (enter Justin Theroux and Jeremy Irons) in a movie called On High in Blue Tomorrows, which, of course, is cursed. But we’re cursed too as we follow her through the slippery worlds of the movie set, suburban barbeques, tripped-out whorehouses, an assortment of anonymous women in trouble and an apartment inhabited by a family of catatonic rabbits. Unlike the real Inland Empire, so I’m told, this one is a very fine place to get lost. Alex Pasternack

Pulling Up Architecture By the Boot

OMA’s 'fun palace' in the Central Business District

While the twisting, otherworldly shape of Beijing’s new Central Business District landmark, the CCTV Tower, took months of head-scratching effort by engineers and designers to develop, the look of its lesser-known sister structure, the Television Cultural Center, or TVCC, was reportedly birthed in a eureka moment. On a trip in Italy in 2002, Rem Koolhaas, the famous lead architect, faxed a quick sketch of the design—resembling a dramatic, angular boot—to the Rotterdam headquarters of his Office of Metropolitan Architecture. His design team quickly got down to work. But ironing out the details of the building, which will house a luxury hotel and various public functions, would turn out to be a challenging affair to rival that of its physics-defying sibling.

“In a way, TVCC proved more challenging to the team than CCTV,” said an OMA designer in charge of the project, who asked to remain anonymous due to the sensitive nature of the project. While the careful geometry of the CCTV building, which is thought to be one of the world's most complex buildings, afforded little modification, she said, TVCC's relatively free-form design and various practical needs gave way to bouts of head-scratching. "The building has so many functions, and putting them together in a way that looks chaotic but with actually considerable logic, that was very hard.'

Adding to the challenge, the designer notes, was the firm's special brand of perfectionism, and the pressure that comes with building next to one of the world's most highly-anticipated buildings. 'It was a case of OMA fighting against itself, of trying to create with an equivalent sense of quality or perfection as CCTV.'

Challenges aside, the building was always meant to be a more lighthearted, pleasurable affair than its hulking sibling next door. Nicknamed the “fun palace” by OMA for its orientation toward public cultural events, the TVCC will house a 300 room luxury hotel (the developer is said to be in talks with Mandarin Oriental), restaurants and spas, recording studios and a 1,500-seat theater that can be used for televised events.

Most of the functions meant to serve the people are housed in the strange geometry of the first four floors, while the 'leg' of the boot contains a central 20-story tall atrium and the hotel's suites. Each room protrudes from the building's facade like randomly-arranged shoeboxes--a scheme, according to co-architect Ole Scheeren, inspired by a termite’s nest.

While its central concrete section was completed in January, workers will spend the months until the building's opening late this year applying finishing touches and adding the structure's unique outer skin. For that section, which craws across the building from east to west, the architects chose titanium zinc alloy, a material that will rust with a certain dignity, giving the building a bronzy, matte surface and providing a protective layer. "This will endure time better than other metal buildings," she said.

Already, the building is a starkly iconoclastic addition to the otherwise conventional skyline of the Central Business District. To its designers at least, it’s provided a much-wanted thrill. "It's almost a miracle, after four years of hard work, to see the building stand up against the skyline," said the architect. And while it may not be able to compete with CCTV in terms of sheer drama, the shape of the building should eventually prove to be a welcome, more expressive complement to the strong geometry of its serious older sister.

While CCTV won't be finished by the time TVCC opens, in December 2007, it is expected that the larger building's main structure will be finished by the Olympics. ‘The current plan is that during the Olympics, you would see the CCTV building stand in complete façade,” said the OMA designer. While time will tell what the TVCC’s experimental design will mean on an everyday level for those inside the building, one thing is clear: the view is certain to be awesome.

Quincy Has a Jones For China

When Quincy Jones came to town in late May—to announce, according to a press release, that he would “write songs for Beijing Olympic Games”—That’s Beijing naturally had a hundred questions to ask the 71-time Grammy Award jazz nominee, media impresario, and Michael Jackson producer. What sort of songs would he write? Would the songs be used during ping-pong or wrestling matches? Would your songs certainly be used? How do you keep your white suit so clean? How’s Michael doing, and when could we expect him to come to town, too? When you told reporters in Shanghai that you hoped to “see the people, enjoy the music, touch the land, taste the food and even smell the air," did you also mean in Beijing?

Just as we nervously started to shoot off a few of these questions in the sleek lobby of Beijing’s Olympic Tower, the otherwise animated Mr. Jones, 73, fell silent, escorted That’s Beijing away from his entourage, and calmly grabbed our pen and notebook to scrawl a note in slightly shaky handwriting. “NOME SANE” it read. Given the circumstances, it seemed like it could have been code for “where’s the nearest exit?”

“Um, uhh. What is this? ‘Nome sane’?” That’s Beijing squinted, raising its sunglasses.

Quincy kept his on, and spoke the words. “Know what I’m sayin’?”

It was cool, strange, amusing, and cryptic. In other words, it was like any a public statement by the Beijing Olympic committee, except in jive.

And probably just as well. Before they began their press conference, Mr. Jones, Jiang Xiaoyu, the executive vice-president of Beijing Organizing Committee for the Games of the XXIX Olympiad (BOCOG), and a gaggle of advisors held a quick planning meeting in a side room. There, it quickly became clear that neither side quite knew what Mr. Jones’ involvement would be.

Mr. Jiang seemed to explain that Mr. Jones’s song wouldn’t necessarily be used during the Olympics. Or perhaps it would.

At another point, when discussing his exact involvement, Mr. Jones leaned in. “You don’t understand. When you have someone do the theme music for the Olympics, they do both the composing and the orchestration!” Hearing the translation, the Chinese contingent smiled and shifted in their chairs. That was not part of the plan.

“I just want to figure out what to say when I’m on the air,” said Mr. Jones. So we, the press, could know what he's saying.

The preparations for the 2008 Games—from building the stadiums to tackling the traffic problem—are many and complex, and choosing the music is no exception. While every Games employs the original Olympics theme song, “Bugler's Dream,” a fanfare written in the 1950s by a French composer named Leo Arnaud, each host city traditionally chooses another piece of music to mark their turn. Or in the case of Beijing, a few: the “Song for Beijing 2008 Olympic Games,” the "Song for Volunteers of Beijing 2008 Olympic Games” and the “Theme Song for Volunteers of Beijing 2008 Olympic Games.”

To choose just the right songs—and theme song—the organizers are running an open competition that has just entered its fourth round and will continue until 2008. So far more than 500 pieces of music and 5000 lyric works have been contributed; Mr. Jiang seemed to say that, once finished, Mr. Jones’s song would be thrown onto the pile too.

But what kind of theme song would Mr. Jones, who has won 23 Grammy awards, submit? First of all, he explained, he would be working on theme music, not a theme song. Hmm? “Let me ask you this, do you know the words to Star Wars?” He da-daa-dahed the famous theme by John Williams (an erstwhile Olympics theme composer himself). “You catch my drift? Theme music, it doesn’t have words—theme songs do.”

The jazz master, who has collaborated with Miles Davis, Count Basie, Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles and Aretha Franklin, and who was encouraged to submit a song by pal Jackie Chan, would not be accepting money for his piece. “This is not about [making] money. I've already done that.” While he hasn’t started writing it yet, he said he imagined his theme would be a “global gumbo,” incorporating pop music, western themes, and of course, traditional Chinese stuff. “I love that instrument, the one with the strings,” he said pantomiming the guzheng, the Chinese zither.

But that certainly wasn’t all the impresario loved of China, which was “awesome,” he told a room full of reporters. “I've several times considered selling my home in California and staying here. Between the food, and the culture, and the beautiful people—the beautiful ladies, incredible ladies, the most beautiful, beautiful women I've ever seen in my life, whaaaaow! Oh, good God. I don't know how you're going to translate that.”

He said he was going to spread the word about China among his friends, certainly a not unimpressive group (Bill, Mandela, Kofi, and Sean were among those mentioned). “You can rest assured, you have a great ambassador.”

Sadly, in addition to leaving un-assured about his precise involvement in the Olympics, That’s Beijing missed its chance to ask Mr. Jones about Mr. Jackson. Would he be coming to the Olympics? Given the one-time King of Pop’s recent tour of Asia, and Jones’ star-drawing abilities, we think we might know the answer. Nome sane?

a version of this piece ran in That's Beijing, July 2006