Fremont Peak Park

I recently volunteered mulch hauling services at Fremont Peak Park, a community-maintained 1 residential-lot-sized park in my neighborhood. Somebody had some vision because it is an amazing amenity with views of Rainier, the Olympics, over Ballard and Queen Anne. The foundations of the house that once stood there remain as retaining walls, native plants and trees abound, and a solar calendar makes for fun internal conversations about just making it 2 more weeks and then it's 6 months of lengthening days...
Recent sunshine afforded me the chance to photosynth the park. Microsoft's photo-collage software is pretty cool if you haven't seen it. I hear they're also working on incorporating it into street-view maps so that one can walk about inside buildings.

New Year

We spent New Year’s at ErDaYie’s house. New readers may not be acquainted with this place. It’s a single-family home development 45 minutes northeast of Beijing built on a natural spring. All homes are 4 stories tall, built of concrete and brick. Bigger is always better.



The latest status symbol for the wealthy is big protein gobbling dogs. ErDaYie has 3: a German Shepherd, a Husky, and some sort of mix.



It's tough being highly opininonated about taste and what's appropriate, and not to be able to use language to your advantage in swaying opinions or raising awareness.

We’ve spent a lot of time eating with relatives recently.



This has meant a trip to LaoLao’s house which everybody else dreads. It’s always easy for me though. Eat a lot, drink a lot, and speak a little Chinese and everybody loves you.



We got in ErDaYie’s tub/pool with everybody:



I’ll leave you with some architecture.
Steven Holl’s new typology, a self-contained city with all towers connected on the 20th floor:



OMA’s big name Beijing project, the new CCTV fortress:



The posh Sanlitun district (embassies, foreigners, and bars):







The bird’s nest:



The National Grand Theater (a.k.a the egg):







Happy New Year.

Olympians

An eventful day yesterday. JieJie’s work (checking cell phone coverage) just happens to take her to the Olympic site. She therefore has a pass impressive enough to persuade the guards to let her, her cousin, and her cousin’s camera wielding Caucasian accomplice into the holy grail of modern architecture in China.



Big profile projects in China have a lot in common. Their scale is always shocking. The pollution that shrouds them is always equally impressive and plays up their bulk by making them seem farther afield. The sheer number of workers, a dearth of large machinery, the rows of temporary housing to bunk them all.



They all are closely guarded as well. Our adventure was unique in my experience of China. You can’t take a photograph in a shopping mall without getting shouted at (in fact, this very thing happened to me the previous day). We began our march through the fog of construction making furtive glances, expecting our camera to be confiscated at any moment. But despite our best efforts to be kicked out (Julia stepping knee deep into a trench of wet concrete and nearly breaking her leg/the camera) it never happened.



JieJie, ever aggressive, with a move that hadn’t even occurred to me, asked some workers if we could borrow two of their hard hats. JieJie then gave her security pass to Julia, we donned the headgear, and into the natatorium we went, playing a visiting archiphotojournalist, and his guide.





The pollution issue is a big one in China. It’s especially sensitive in Beijing right now because of the coming Olympics. We’ve heard the stories of shutting down construction, cloud seeding, etc. in a race to blue the skies for the big event. It’s as bad as ever though. Athletes with black lungs is my prediction. The problem is ruinous to the grandeur of the architecture as well. Dust buildup on the bubble skin of the natatorium was evident.



The grey steel of the bird’s nest stadium was camouflaged by the particulate.



The real power of the place is going to be its nighttime glow, the bird’s nest, the administrative building, the natatorium, and others all transform.





If I’d caught these guys earlier in the raising of this lamppost I could’ve had a Pulitzer.

Stranger in a strange land + estranged motherlander.

Julia now has a blue passport. I am (therefore?) doing a greater share of the talking with the Zhongguoren. Today I successfully acquired two clay pots of yogurt from the yogurt lady at the university mess hall whilst my linguistic crutch was helping NaiNai heat up another heaping meal.

The trick is, don't snack, don’t ask for more, say you’re full halfway through the meal, and throw in a wo cheng si le (I am stretching to death).

Sunrise for the depressurized and bleary eyed.



The neighborhood has changed a bit.



And is changing still. Julia poses before a construction fence:



Late capitalism seems to be homogenizing when compared with the nascent Chinese version. Plastic wrapped foods may seem as varied as a ROYGBIV gradient but they all come from the same corn factory. Here, whole foods still predominate and bizarre veggies abound and amalgamate into an endless parade of dishes much like the language combines z’s x’s and q’s in fresh ways you haven’t thought of since childhood when letters were still fluid. They can play the packaged game too. China is called the factory floor of the world. But in these heady days, everyone is winging it. With no prescribed path, and no economy that prescribes medicine, law, or banking for assured success, variety rules. What strange things arise from the primeordeal pool.

A furnishing mall we happened upon:





Three levels, a 10 minute walk in either the X or Y direction to find the exterior wall. Endless aisles where perspective lines converge. Lamps, curtains, art, chairs, mats, whatever. Companies I’ve never heard of. Almost no customers but plenty of sales clerks. Who knows? Maybe it’ll work. Maybe the lease is so cheap and the manufacturing costs are so low it need only work as live-action advertising. Case in point.