Friday, Jul. 17, 1964

The fair is fun, in hundreds of pavilions, amusements and resturants sprawled over an area almost as large as Central Park. To see it with pleasure calls for some planning. Herewith some highlights.

PAVILIONS

SPAIN'S pavilion is a gentle interlacing of courtyards and corridors filled with endless surprises of light and shadow. Its attractions include priceless paintings of old and modern masters, an impressive showing of its young avant-garde artists, folk dancers who perform in a garden studded with red geraniums and, in the Market Plaza, hot churros and cold horchata. It alone is easily worth a day at the fair.

JAPAN juxtaposes its ancient arts with its modern technological achievements: the delicacy of flower arranging and a model of the world's fastest train, woodblock printing and powerful microscopes. Dominating the three-building complex is one of the finest works of art created for the fair--Masayuki Nagare's thunderous stone wall, carved out of lava rock.

JOHNSON'S WAX has a fine film totally innocent of commercial or waxy intent. A little boy stares at the city through a prism that changes boredom to beauty. For the viewer the film does much the same thing. To Be Alive! is one of the few events worth a wait.

GENERAL ELECTRIC. Part of the outside wall revolves, taking six auditoriums full of people around Walt Disney's puppet drama of domestic electricity. In the building's core, there is a show about the universe on the dome and a display of atom fusion in the basement.

IBM. A huge hydraulic mechanism grinds away and whisks you 53 ft. up into IBM's huge egg nesting in steel trees. There you can peek 90 ft. down to the ground or settle back and be assaulted by a plethora of images flipping onto nine screens faster than you can blink.

COCA-COLA. In this delightful walk-through exhibit, Coke turns up in the darnedest places: hidden in a Hong Kong fish market, along the Taj Mahal's jasmine-scented promenade, tucked in a Bavarian snowbank, cooling in a Cambodian rain forest, or gracing the captain's table on a cruise ship to Rio.

PROTESTANT AND ORTHODOX CENTER. For an eloquent little film called Parable, Writer-Director Rolf Forsberg chose a setting much like the fair itself. A sad-eyed clown in whiteface trails behind a circus troupe, collects a host of friends and a slew of enemies. Finally, when he frees some human puppets from their cruel manipulator, he is symbolically crucified.

FINE ARTS. The former Argentine pavilion makes a splendid, spacious showcase for "American Art Today"--250 paintings, prints and sculptures from as many contemporary artists. Most modern masters are represented, but a certain homogeneity makes the exhibition less exciting than it could have been.

ILLINOIS. Honest Abe sits somber and silent in a high-back chair, rises, bows, and delivers a 10-min. oration. Disney's Lincoln is a little stolid, but then he is stuffed with things like steel, air tubes and hydraulic valves.

FLORIDA has pink flamingos nuzzling in a garden, porpoises prancing in a pool, and a little gem of an art show. The 13 paintings and three sculptures, all masterworks, include a Rubens, a Veronese, one of Monet's wavery Water Lilies, a smoo h Brancusi bronze, a stark Soulages and Gaston Lachaise's Elevation.

VATICAN. Some 78,000 people daily have been viewing the Pieta. That its monumental tenderness manages to penetrate the frigid atmosphere is a tribute to Michelangelo's genius. In the chapel upstairs is The Good Shepherd, a magnificent early Roman sculpture, also from the Vatican's vast collection.

GENERAL MOTORS' Futurama ride glides past floating space stations and aquacopters touring the ocean's depths. What excites the imagination most is what seems most possible (and needed): three dream cars designed to run on automatic highways where the driver would push a route-programmed punch card into a slot, turn over all controls for the trip to an electronic system.

FORD. New cars carry fairgoers into a Disney version of the prehistoric past; the rest of the place seems filled with Fords --new, old, antique, and even parked in ponds around the pavilion like, well, like water lilies.

ENTERTAINMENT

OREGON. A logger jubilee on the banks of the Flushing River. Husky lumberjacks like "Big Bad John" Miller saw and chop through giant timber in jig time, logrollers joust each other into the amber waters, and a death-defying treetopper climbs a towering Douglas fir to do the Charleston 110 ft. up--without a net.

CARIBBEAN. At night torches blaze in the breeze, couples congregate at thatched-roof tables, while brown-skinned babes in tighter-than-skin pants gyrate to the hot blasts and calypso beat of bongo drums and steel bands. There is no place to dance, but the itchy-footed shake or shuffle outside on the sidewalk. It is, perhaps, better not to mention the food, but there is a $3 minimum after 6 p.m.

HELICOPTER TOUR. From the air, the riotous array of bubble-tops, fluted roofs and rainbow-colored domes make the fair look like a toyland tucked along Flushing Bay. Choppers lift off every eight minutes from the Port Authority heliport, make a figure 8 before plumping back down.

THE AFRICAN PAVILION is the swingingest --and the noisiest--place at the fair. For $1 you can walk past monkeys, giraffes, and native objets d'art into a gravel clearing surrounded by African huts flying the flags of 24 small nations, there watch red-robed Royal Burundi drummers, Olatunji and his passion drums, and gaily garbed Watusi warrior dancers.

CHILDREN & TEENAGERS

U.S. RUBBER. A giant rubber tire, six stories tall, frames a newfangled Ferris wheel popular with youngsters. After loading up, the swinging bucket seats go for a two-trip spin over the top.

HALL OF SCIENCE. Atomsville, U.S.A., is strictly for small fry. So that parents will take the hint, the entrance is only 5-ft. high. The little visitors can prospect for uranium on a world map, produce electricity by riding bicycles, shoot "neutrons" at "uranium atoms" on a pinball machine, and measure their weight in atoms. They seem to have plenty of fun, whether or not they learn very much about atoms.

TIVOLI GARDENS PLAYGROUND. The Danes are adept at entertaining children, and they take it seriously. Created by 13 of Denmark's top artists and architects, the playground is modeled after Copenhagen's. Kids can sail paper boats in shallow canals or swoop down a slippery slide into a sandbox, sit at tiny-tot tables and watch fireflies flit in the trees or play hide-and-seek in a maze with magic mirrors.

MINNESOTA brings a bit of the Big Woods to Flushing Meadow. Through winding waters and twisting tunnels, you can paddle your own canoe or, from a wooden bridge, fish for well-fed trout that will outfox the most dexterous angler.

RESTAURANTS

FESTIVAL OF GAS. Its blue and green color scheme is one of the coolest sights in the industrial area. From the glass-walled room, the diner can look out over a flower-sprinkled moat while enjoying such entrees as compote of squab, tenderloin flared in bourbon or baked country ham. $6-$12.*

TOLEDO, in the Spanish pavilion. "French cuisine is the best in the world." says Spanish Chef Francisco Gonzalez, "that is, the way I do it." The way he does it is just fine, and so is the service by a small armada of trim, bolero-jacketed waiters. $5-$25. The pavilion's No. 2 restaurant, the Granada, serves an all-Spanish menu that features gazpacho and paella at slightly lower prices.

THE MILLSTONE. From the colonial atmosphere of the New England pavilion's restaurant, you can look out onto a millpond while enjoying down East specialties like johnnycakes with hot maple syrup, clam chowder, giant breaded lobster, blueberry slump and apple grunt. $5-$9.

MOULTRAY'S POLYNESIAN. The Polynesian punch, served in an earthen vessel that looks like a tiny totem pole, is garnished with fruits and flowers and a little lantern. Egg rolls are stuffed with tangy tidbits, and steak and shrimp are served on small bamboo spears. $3-$12.

FOCOLARE, in the Mexican pavilion, is one of the handsomest dining rooms at the fair. It serves good Mexican food (chicken, tacos and enchiladas) while mariachis serenade the cocktail crowd in the Cafe Alameda below. $4-$15.

MARYLAND'S restaurant overlooks a fisherman's wharf with eel pots dangling in the water, is a favorite for those who like down-home cooking. On the menu: terrapin, shad roe and, of course, Southern-style fried chicken. $3-$10.

DENMARK. The modern Danish restaurant has a sumptuous cold table that includes herring, Jobster, salmon and eight different meats. The akvavit comes packed in ice, and packs a wallop of its own. $6.

SWEDEN, too, has a smorgasbord, but here you help yourself. $6.

INDONESIA. The royal-looking pavilion shaped like a crown houses a favorite feeding spot for potentates and VIPs. An Indonesian feast is served, while on a center stage Sumatran and Balinese beauties oscillate to the contrapuntal gongs of the gamelan. $7.

*Dinner prices per person.

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