The Architects' Dream: Building Astana

As late as 1991, Kazakhstan's modern capital was little more than a dot on the frozen wastelands of the country's northern steppe. In just two decades, however, Astana has exploded out of the earth into a political playground, financial hub and veritable architects' dream. Unrestrained by lack of space, money or ambition, the blank canvas of Astana's skyline has been transformed with imaginative design. Home-grown talent battles for attention among international heavy-weights, and even the global recession has scarcely slowed Astana's expansion.

As yet largely undiscovered by international tourists, the majority of visitors to Astana are business travellers drawn by Kazakhstan's vast oil and gas resources. For those with the time and inclination to step outside the city's numerous 5* hotels, however, Astana is a vibrant city that encapsulates President Nazarbayev's vision for a modern, high-profile and evidently wealthy Kazakhstan.   

The newest kid on the architectural block is the Khan Shatyry (the "Royal Marquee"), the world's largest tent. Inspired by Kazakhtsan's nomadic past, Foster and Partners have designed a tent 150 m tall with a floor area equivalent to 10 football pitches. If the idea of boating in a gondola, playing golf indoors, or relaxing on a beach some 5000 km from the sea appeals, this is the place to come. Almost as impressive as the structure and its contents is the innovative temperature control system which ensures the air remains a balmy 20 degrees Celsius even whilst outside temperatures swing from -35 in winter to +35 in summer. The central atrium has hosted concerts by the likes of Andrea Bocelli, and the performance space is used on a regular basis by circus groups, dance troupes and bands. 

Foster's other contribution to Astana's skyline is the Palace of Peace and Reconciliation. This pyramid-shaped structure, comprised of tessellating triangles of granite and stained glass, was built to host a triennial conference of world religions, and its shape was chosen as it was not associated with any one of the religious groups represented. The main conference chamber is upheld by four huge struts, which Foster claims symbolise the hands of peace. The palace also houses a 1,500-seat opera house, educational facilities, and the national centre for information about Kazakhstan's many ethnic groups.

Two thirds of Kazakhstan's population are officially Muslim and so it is fitting that the Nur Astana Mosque should be among the city's most iconic buildings. A gift from the Emir of Qatar and the output of a Lebanese architect, the Nur Astana is one of 1700 mosques built in Kazakhstan since independence: the religion is experiencing a remarkable renaissance after years of being outlawed under Communism. Each of the 63 m high minarets (symbolic as the Prophet was 63 when he died) is constructed from white marble and surrounds a golden dome, in stark contrast to the muted, pastel interior painted by Kazakh artists before the mosque's official opening in 2008.   

The growth of Astana has been integrally linked with the power of Nazarbayev, and as he enters his eighth decade and the city also comes to maturity, it will be interesting to see if Kazakhstan's first President has one last architectural swansong up his sleeve.  The architectural legacy he leaves behind is, in any case, a legacy befitting of a man whose own ascendancy cannot be separated out from the birth and emergence on the international scene of the country and capital he built.

HOLIDAY READING

Aitken, J. Nazarbayev and the Making of Kazakhstan: From Communism to Capitalism

Brummell, P. Kazakhstan

Omrani, B. Asia Overland: Tales of Travel on the Trans-Siberian and Silk Road

Robbins, C. In Search of Kazakhstan: The Land that Disappeared

Dubai: 1st Impressions

Riding in a cab out of the airport, it feels as if I am in American suburbia. Through the tinted windows the sun has a California glow. The low-rise architecture either side of the higway is non-descript:an one of the yellow-grey concrete cubes could easily house a Toys R Us or Denny's.
Further along the street as I passed an intersection, however, I notice the one ey difference that sets it apart from Palo Alto or Mountain View: the labourers standing in the heat are not Mexicans but Pakistanis. Welcome to Little Pakistan.
The highways are immaculate and the flyovers soar like concrete dragons, their wings outspread, but despite this mighty infrastructure it is hard to discern a heart to the city: where do all these roads actually go? I am left a little disorientated.
My hotel (visit # 1), the grandly though nonsensically named Grand Swiss Bellhotel, is in a non-descript, perhaps unfinished part of town where the traffic rolls by at all hours. The parking is Indian-style: you stop wherever your car will fit in the strip between the uildings and the street. The situation here is an improvement from Delhi, however: the drivers can actually drive (more or less) and it doesn't smell overwhelmingly of wee.
The hotel staff, with one exception, are all from the Subcontinent and, contrary to what Trip Advisor might say, there wasn't the slightest whiff of curry in the lobby. The rooms are smartly, if uninspiringly, decorated and immaculately maintained. A boy comes to the door dressed in salwar kamiz and, for a brief instant, I am back in Lahore.
When I finally drive downtown, I recall the urban superscapes of Hollywood: it's a set for Gotham City or a Star Wars spacecraft chase. For a wile I couldn't even see the Burj Khalifa, but then there it was to the left hand side, forcing me to crane my neck for just a glimpse of its upper floors. Passing by again later the same evening, this sky-touching building was floodlit and the grace of the design became apparent: it is an elongated Chrysler building for the 21st century.
As I mentioned previously, the standard of driving is superior to that in many other places, but that's not to say it's anyway near exemplary. Passing a crossing I spy a fellow motorist driving with one hand holding her morning's coffee and the other clutching a mobile phone to her ear. The horns are blaring,the traffic is backing up, and the woman is blissfully unaware of the chaos.