Other sometimes bitter critics of the Sudjic regime have been brought into line in this way - I bumped into one of them, all smiles, in the Glasgow 99 office only the other day. This is not to say that the infighting is over - Glasgow would not be Glasgow if that ever happened. But for now, with only a month or so before the opening party on January 7 in Norman Foster's "Armadillo" convention centre, professional and personal jealousies have been subjugated to the need to present Glasgow in the best light to the world.
Despite all this, some elements in the city seem determined to shoot themselves in the foot. A couple of hundred yards north of the Glasgow 99 office is George Square, the city's big urban space. This enormous square has long been unsatisfactory but now - following millions of pounds of "improvements" by the city council - it is absolutely hideous, smothered in acres of red tarmac and very little else. God knows what they thought they were doing, but this, surely was an opportunity for an urban design competition which Glasgow 99 could organize and take credit for. But old municipal habits die hard: inevitably it has already been dubbed "Red Square".
It hurts all the more since one of the key buildings on the square - the old main Post Office - is still waiting for a new use, having failed to raise funding for a proposed Scottish Museum of Art and Design there. Now that was a competition in which Glasgow 99 was involved early on - the winners, Glasgow architects Page and Park, have picked up plenty of other 1999 work, of which more in a moment. But the failure of the museum project to assemble a workable funding package - which was outside the powers of Sudjic or his team to influence - has the unfortunate result that Red Square looks even more like a design Black Hole. An art and design fair will happen there, and "Big Design Day" in May will do its best to transform this now lamentable public space by turning it into a vast "world food" court, but there's not much else you can do with the place.
That embarrassment aside, the Year is looking good. Sudjic has stuck to his task with a determination that will not surprise anyone who knows this ambitious and perceptive critic. This, after all, is the biggest thing he has ever done. So long as he does not goof, the Year may provide a stepping-stone into the charmed world of other cultural directorships, by the time (or before) he receives his cards in March 2000. He has taken care to teach and to curate exhibitions overseas. He is an indefatigable global traveller and networker. He has made it a point of principle to bring the world to Glasgow, and vice-versa. His team is at work marketing the 1999 event in America and elsewhere. An advertising splurge is planned so that anyone who passes through Glasgow is made aware of what's going on. A series of books recording the key exhibitions is in hand. No wonder Isaacs is confident that this is one cultural beanfeast that will not occur invisibly.
