Osaka’s brilliant-to-bewildering world expo pavilions

The World Expo in Osaka, Japan, is a spectacle that lives up to its name, with 188 pavilions vying for attention. Some are easy to get into while others require pre-booking or hours-long queues, as reputation travels fast. Whether you are planning to travel to the expo before it closes in October or are simply curious about what’s on offer, here is a rundown of the final eight of the 16 pavilions I was lucky enough to visit.

The Nordic countries

As a citizen of one of the five Nordic countries, I was enthusiastic to visit the Nordic pavilion even though I had heard nothing about it – good or bad – just nothing.

I soon realised why.

Externally styled like a traditional Swedish or Norwegian barn, in imposing black rather than red or timber coloured, the pavilion’s open space features lots of printed photos from the Nordic region in the middle, hung in wavy lines to somewhat resemble the northern lights – except in black and white. From what little I remember of them, the pictures were worth glancing at but were there, as far as I could tell, just to take up space.

The main attraction is the screens around the edge of the pavilion. If you move from screen to screen, and stand exactly on the marked spot (took me a while to figure that bit out), videos will auto-play to tell you why the Nordic countries are the best at pretty much everything. I am not being cruel: I genuinely think that must be the concept.

One screen tells you, for example, that the Nordic countries lead the world in human rights, another that they lead the world in proliferation of electric cars, another that they lead the world in gender equality, and so forth. But they do so in a manner not much more inspiring than the sentences I just wrote. Think corporate welcome video.

Sharing a pavilion is unusual. The Baltics of Latvia and Lithuania joined forces (Estonia ruffled feathers by pulling out, I believe), but other than that, I think nearly all other countries have gone it alone. If Czechia, Belgium and even Luxembourg can afford decent pavilions, why can’t Sweden and Denmark?

Accommodating five countries – even ones that are the very best of friends – has resulted in bland committee thinking of the worst kind and a pavilion that is less than the sum of its parts.

The final disappointment was the gift shop which, the friendly Japanese staff told me, leans heavily towards Norwegian and Swedish products “because the pavilion managers come from those countries”. So much for decisions by committee…

The Nordic pavilion © Photo credit: Alex Stevensson

NTT Pavilion

The NTT Pavilion is all about advanced communications and AI. NTT is the modern iteration of Japan’s national telegraph company and is still partly public-owned today.

I really wanted to visit its expo pavilion for all the things I hoped to learn. In the end, I learnt nothing at all – and I’m really pleased about it!

This pavilion has chosen style over substance to demonstrate, not lecture about, the peak of modern technology.

Beginning with a brief audiovisual trip through time, from letters and Morse code, to Zoom and 5G, visitors are next led into the ‘Parallel Travel’ area, where the band Perfume (huge stars in Japan, if you didn’t know) embark on a side-by-side comparison of the Osaka world expos in 1970 and 2025. They do so with musical flair, seamless costume changes a stunning light show. All while not really being there. What is essentially an empty room feels transformed into a major concert and a very-real-feeling 3D trip to 1970. To say “impressive” would be an understatement.

Also read:Getting under the skin of Luxembourg’s World Expo pavilion

The final zone starts with everybody lining up to have their photo taken by automated cameras. Unfortunately, not really knowing what was going on and the cameras reminding me of passport e-gates, I set my facial expression to match.

Moments later, I was confronted with the worst photograph I have ever seen of myself (not an exaggeration – and it’s up against some pretty tough competition), projected several metres tall onto the wall, for all 50-or-so people to see.

The room then uses AI technology to age everybody and projects the eerily life-like echoes of the future onto the wall as well. Aside from the fact that my tired, angry, droopy image would make children cry and dogs howl, the technology was nevertheless impressive to behold.

Again, I learnt nothing about AI – but that’s because they weren’t really trying to teach.

The NTT pavilion © Photo credit: SIP

The NTT pavilion © Photo credit: Alex Stevensson

Portugal

The best thing about Portugal is the outside of its pavilion. And that’s not a snarky comment: their pavilion looks really good.

Fringed with thousands of hanging strands of thick silvery rope, the pavilion shouts its nautical message before you even step inside (either that or the story of an old fashioned lampshade). Not only does it draw you in from afar, with its distinctive wave-shape cut out, but the ropes feel nice to play with as you wait to enter, too. It’s often the small pleasures in life that count, after all.

Portugal dedicates its entire pavilion to the sea – specifically, the country’s maritime heritage and its conservation work today. The exhibition space at the start of the pavilion draws heavily on its centuries-long relationship with Japan, noting that Portugal was the first European country to establish contact with Japan, and has the longest cultural and trade relationship. This even extends to Portuguese influence on the Japanese language, including, would you believe it, iconic words like ‘tempura’.

The visit concludes with an ultra-wide-screen film – a sort of message from the sea to humanity – complete with stirring soundtrack and lighting, that, in keeping with the whole pavilion, is just a little bit too earnest and on-the-nose to achieve what it wants to.

With the ocean literally pleading for its life (the theme of the expo overall is about sustainability), the text on the screen was infuriatingly littered with unnecessary spelling and grammar errors that rendered this journalist incapable of suspending disbelief, as one must often do to appreciate good drama.

The Portuguese are under no obligation to speak perfect English, but given all the millions spent on the pavilion, I know plenty of copy editors who would have been happy to read it over for them without breaking the bank.

The Portugal pavilion © Photo credit: AlThe Portugal pavilion.ex Stevensson

The Portugal pavilion © Photo credit: The Portugal pavilion.

The Portugal pavilion © Photo credit: SIP

Spain

Somewhat unfortunately for Portugal, Spain has also chosen the sea as the base concept for its pavilion, though this is not always obvious.

To get into the pavilion, one has to climb something very akin to the Spanish Steps – famously in Rome, not Spain – and at the top, there is a stage with regular live music. A highly skilled guitarist and folk band were playing when I arrived.

Inside, there are two main spaces, the first, which is extremely blue, is all about the ocean, featuring displays on diverse topics from algae and Spanish galleons to offshore wind power and deep ocean currents. If it screams more science museum than Spanish flair, that’s okay. It is very interesting, nevertheless.

Besides which, the following room – which is jarringly, abruptly, eye-wateringly orange and red by comparison – more than makes up for it, being entirely about Spain and Spanish culture.

“About” is the right word, because the space does not feel particularly Spanish. Its size, sparsity, metal edges and jarring colours make it more of a laboratory through which to examine some snippets of Hispanica through a scientific lens, rather than live them first-hand. I dare say that might have been the designers’ intention, but I was squinting too uncontrollably to think that highly of them at the time.

The Spain pavilion © Photo credit: Alex Stevensson

The Spain pavilion © Photo credit: SIP

The Spain pavilion © Photo credit: Alex Stevensson

Switzerland

While some countries have thrown stereotypes out of the window and others have tried desperately to live up to them, Switzerland has effortlessly slotted in the middle with a pavilion that is not the biggest, smallest, best or worst, but which emanates a certain class, quality and charm, without being pretentious – as all good Swiss stereotypes dictate it should. That, and it feels reassuringly expensive.

Also read:Osaka World Expo pavilions: from marvellous to meh

You are welcomed with a large backlit artwork that bears some similarity to a stained-glass window, except with modern day precision and detail. It shows some of the most whimsical elements of Swiss culture, folklore and nature. The idea of the tableau is to introduce the theme of the pavilion: From Heidi to High Tech; a reference to Switzerland’s favourite children’s book.

A giant bubble room follows, where a bubble machine blows bubbles (some smoke-filled) from a huge pool of soap solution; seemingly just because it looks cool. Which it does.

After this comes the more predictable, but also worth sharing, journey through Swiss technological prowess and its status among the world’s R&D leaders, before a happy and smiling Heidi on a swing indicates that the adventure is over and you can return to the real world. Before you walk away, be sure to appreciate the pavilion from the outside one last time: its inflated Space Age orbs are a deliberate nod to the 1970 Osaka expo and its sense of futuristic optimism.

The Switzerland pavilion © Photo credit: SIP

The Switzerland pavilion © Photo credit: Alex Stevensson

United Arab Emirates

The UAE pavilion is not really worth queuing to get into. Luckily, you probably won’t have to.

It seems to me that the Arabian designers wanted to create something of an oasis in the desert, so to speak. A place of much-needed respite and refuge in which to take a breather.

What that means in practical terms is a large, open space (beautifully air conditioned, I might add), that is frequently punctuated with pillars dressed to look like the trunks of palm trees, a thick, rough hessian carpet that is somewhat reminiscent of desert sand, and plenty of space, dotted with interesting artefacts and small exhibits. At the far end of the hall are some round screens showing cute camels.

The Emirati men outside in ghutra headscarves and traditional robes shouting to passers-by in (what sounded like) fluent Japanese raised many smiles and a good deal of laughter among local visitors, many of whom were persuaded to come inside.

My advice is to spend ten or 15 minutes in this pavilion – which also has a decent giftshop – if you are tired or hot and you see there is no queue.

United Kingdom

The UK pavilion certainly plays up to a lot of national stereotypes, though not always intentionally. It was, for example, the only pavilion I know of that was playing a barrage of health & safety announcements to people as they queued to get in. But while Brits often moan about “health & safety gone mad”, I didn’t mind hearing it is fully accessible, available in Braille, and that help is on hand should I feel unwell or harassed.

Inside, the Brits have honed the art of humble-bragging by using impressive 360-degree videos, through several distinct themed rooms, to tell a story of all the brilliant ideas the country has given the world (and how you too can have ideas almost as genius as a Brit, if you try hard) – but it has managed to do so in a way faintly reminiscent of the famous NHS (National Health Service) or the national railways.

The whole thing was engaging enough, had some nice moments of humour, but lacked a certain je ne sais quoi, even, dare I say it, a joie de vivre. And the use of French here is no accident, because I would argue Britain has given Expo 2025 the polar opposite to the opulent French pavilion. Weirdly enough, an Anglo-French joint pavilion (à la the Nordics or Baltics) might very well have been the best of the lot (provided the two countries didn’t instead go to war over which wallpaper to use).

Finally, the Brits get kudos for pushing British food and drink really, really hard. Through a bar, café and giftshop, British food was everywhere. And the Japanese visitors were resolutely not buying it when I was there. Which is a pity, because jam and scones are lovely!

Water, water everywhere!

While it’s not strictly a pavilion, we cannot end this coverage without mention of the after-dark water and light show. It is worth sticking around for at twilight, even if your feet hurt and you’re getting peckish.

I was fully prepared to enjoy it: I know myself. Lights, lasers, music, dancing fountains – I always loved that sort of stuff. But I wasn’t prepared for just how far the tech has come along since I went to Disney as a kid.

Is it a water show or a high-def cinema? It was honestly hard to tell at times. With animated, full colour characters walking around as if on television, only for the ‘screen’ to suddenly vanish back into a mere pool of water. Magical.

If you are near the front, do take the splash warnings seriously. It was quite windy when I was there, which, I am told, made the “splash issue” bigger than usual (it was full-on bath levels of wetness by the end). Luckily, the heat of an Osaka July means you’re not wet for long – even after the sun has said goodnight. And I had sought-after beach hair for the rest of the night.

The below video might be quite good, sure, but the show only got better and better after I put the camera away for its own safety: