If Gehry were to get out on foot and participate in the life of the city, what he'd find in Hong Kong are buildings and infrastructure with an extraordinary sensitivity to the notion of circulation. Interestingly, Gehry's work is sometimes talked about in terms of fluidity -- fluidity as an organizing principle -- so one has to wonder how he could be so inattentive. If you look at Disney Concert Hall from the 9th floor smoking area of the LA County Courthouse across the street, it appears very fluid. From that vantage you're looking down at the entrance, viewing the entire building from about the same angle at which you'd be looking at an architectural model set on a table, and it looks fantastic. But if you want to walk around Disney Hall at street level, attempt to participate with it physically, you might as well be circling the perimeter of a prison. It's all but impenetrable except for the front door (and you'll probably be turned away anyhow, unless you bought tickets months in advance). In fact even the front entrance is a bit of a farce -- the way people get in is to drive their SUV into the parking structure beneath the building.
In the West, feng shui is a joke. But in Hong Kong time and again you come across a remarkable sensitivity to flow, or circulation. There are places in Central and Wanchai where a public pedestrian causeway feeds into the lobby of a skyscraper, and right out the other side. You wont find that kind of thinking in Los Angeles -- this notion that a building can contribute to circulation, focus or enhance circulation, rather than sit there like a massive, impenetrable blockade. It's almost a sixth sense in Hong Kong: the Circulation Sense. People know where to hang the clothes so that they dry the fastest, where to place the fruit so it doesn't spoil, or to make it ripen faster. The same concern for flow, circulation, porosity, can be found in the product of even naturalized Hong Kongers (Chris Doyle's cinematography; Hemlock's photomontages). It's an idea, I think, that Norman Foster must have been playing with when he opened up the bottom section of his HSBC building, and let the air pass clean through. On foot you can cut from Queen's Road to Des Voeux Road along the entire length of the building. You might not notice that if you're taking in the city from the back of a limousine, but if you walk the street you experience it as the freedom to circulate. It's a huge, iconic structure, but what a generous decision on the part of the architect, to not disrupt the fabric of the city at ground level. The domestic helpers gathering there for a picnic every Sunday are diggin' it. They get it, Gehry doesn't.
Hong Kong's Lippo Bank at street level: the entire bottom of the building is porous. The wide stairs come cascading out to meet you. If you're walking by and there's a sudden downpour, you can take shelter under the overhang. If it's hot there are probably some shops in there where you can pause and grab an iced tea. Its the kind of thing that makes a city livable. No one in their right mind would try to walk the full block around Gehry's Disney Hall, not even if their SUV broke down. It's hostile to the idea of circulation. Nary a spigot in the fortified walls, lest the vagrants gather to refresh. It's all about selfishness and fear, a fitting icon for Los Angeles.
