A Case of Circular Logic?

A celebration of Britain’s cultural achievements or a marketing ploy for the country’s ruling labor party? A festival of technological wonders or a gargantuan waste of public funds?

Time keeps ticking away, but the Millennium Dome, a $1.2-billion state-funded pavilion that will open this New Year’s in Greenwich, on the outskirts of London, is still struggling to justify its existence. Most of the controversy centers on the project’s still-unfinished exhibition spaces, a collection of 14 zones that seek to explore the human condition at the end of the century. Mind zone. Body zone. Spirit zone. These exhibits are designed to take us on a journey into the national unconscious. So far, the journey also seems like a Surrealist fantasy. A walk through the entrails of an androgynous 90-foot-tall human figure. A ride on giant beds that float through a restful dreamscape.

But the structure itself, completed last year, has more serious aspirations. Designed by British Modernist Richard Rogers--best-known for his collaboration with Renzo Piano on the design of Paris’ Pompidou Center--the hope is that the dome will be an exuberant cultural melting pot, one that evokes the playful structures of the 1970s. Its long-term intent is to reclaim the site of a former utility plant in a working-class section of the city on the edge of the Thames River, and in the process to reconnect it to the civic center farther upstream. If it works, the structure’s glowing bowl-shaped form will provide a much-needed cultural beacon for a decrepit urban landscape, albeit one with a strangely retro aura.

Rogers’ architecture grew out of the social experiments of the ‘60s, when urban friction, vibrant street life and spontaneous play were meant to liberate architecture from the cool rationalism that marked the works of an earlier generation of Modernists. The idea was to challenge elitist notions of high and low, to create a populist architecture marked by playful forms, flexible space and a pop sensibility.

Since that time, Rogers has become one of the grand old men of London’s architectural scene. Along with his colleague, Norman Foster, he is known for an increasingly refined, high-tech aesthetic, and his commissions include corporate towers and, most recently, a law court in Bordeaux, France, that is embroiled in controversy because its glass facade is cracking. Meanwhile, a younger generation--trained at London’s Architectural Assn. during the ‘70s and ‘80s--has come to prominence, led by Iraqi-born Zaha Hadid, whose sleek forms evoke a more dynamic, fluid city--less Pop, more motion.

But in recent decades, it seems the British have been the last to appreciate their own architectural talents. Rogers’ major work in his native capital--the 1984 Lloyd’s of London building--was publicly derided by Prince Charles. Last year, Hadid’s winning design for the Cardiff, Wales, Opera House was dumped when it could not get funding from the Millennium Commission--the agency charged with doling out money for major cultural projects at the end of the century.

Spurred by economic growth and millennium frenzy, the city has now launched a series of ambitious new projects. The most notable are the Tate Gallery of Modern Art--designed by the team of Herzog & de Meuron as a revamping of the former Bankside power station into an annex to the existing Tate Gallery--and Daniel Libeskind’s design for an addition to London’s Victoria and Albert Museum. Both are scheduled for completion after the millennium.

Compared to these, the Millennium Dome seems a relic from an earlier era. The dome’s taut white skin--made of Teflon-coated fiberglass panels--covers 20 acres of exhibition space. A dozen steel masts pierce the dome’s roof and support the structure from above with a system of cables. To preserve the open feel of the interior, all the mechanical systems have been pulled outside, enclosed in six pairs of squat, steel towers. The effect is like approaching the giant tent of a Space Age nomad. The structure seems an otherworldly apparition, oddly temporary. And in some sense it is. Originally, the building was intended to last only the one-year duration of the show. But because of the expense, city officials now claim the structure will be permanent. Only the fabric panels will have to be replaced in 25-year cycles.

Inside, the exhibition will be arranged in a series of concentric rings. At the center is an enormous circular plaza, surrounded by a ring of bleachers. An outer ring of exhibition spaces will be divided into six equal parts by concrete-frame buildings--with giant metal air ducts poking out of their tops--that house all the dome’s support spaces, including corporate sponsor suites and catering facilities.

Most zones will be arranged like slices of a pie between these buildings. A circular pedestrian road will tie the complex together. The idea is to create a sort of permanent traveling circus. But the plan suggests a series of simultaneous, disconnected events along a series of radiating bands, more like a town fair on hallucinogens.

As far as the exhibits go, expect a mixed bag: Many of the zones, which were designed by architects and exhibition designers, will most likely be high-minded examples of generic theme-park architecture, without the sense of humor. There are exceptions: Hadid’s design, for example, of the mind zone is meant to reflect the seamless flow of the imagination by creating a sinuous path through a series of complex, overlapping spaces.

American engineer Buckminster Fuller once fantasized about covering Manhattan under a giant dome, sealing it off permanently from the outside world. That image suggests ecological nightmares and Utopian societies. The Millennium Dome, however, is an attempt to peer into the future and--like World’s Fair pavilions it echoes--it may very well feel dated even before it opens.

Once the millennial hoopla is over, the Labor government is reportedly considering selling the dome to Disney, or turning it into a stadium. By then, it will be surrounded by a large urban park. Boat tours will connect it to other tourist attractions along the Thames. Meanwhile, filmmakers already are using the dome as a location for the next James Bond film. Austin Powers might have made a better--and more prescient--mascot.