A Contradictory Future: Suburban and Atomic Age Design in the 1962 Seattle World’s Fair
America in the early 1960’s was marked by an important dichotomy: a fear of atomic annihilation, yet an almost unwavering hope for a brighter future. Historians frequently utilize this concept in their analysis of the Cold War period. Historian Elaine Tyler May argues that during the Cold War period, fear of communist takeover led “most Americans [to agree] that family stability appeared to be the best bulwark against the dangers of the cold war.”[1]* Thus, this dichotomy of fear and hope was channeled through an increasing focus on family life and conservative values. The Cold War reached beyond politics and pervaded domestic and social spheres of American life. Throughout the Cold War, the United States and the Soviet Union competed not only over weaponry, but also over domestic production and economic success. Time and time again, the two countries attempted to one-up each other in these areas on the world stage.
This Cold War culture of competition is reflected in the 1962 World’s Fair in Seattle. From the monorail to the “World of Tomorrow,” glimpses of a better, brighter America were put on display for the world to see in the Century 21 Exhibition. What does this futuristic view tell us about the period, and how did it impact the surrounding landscape? In this paper, I will argue that the Seattle World’s Fair was very much influenced by the Cold War; in fact, both the design elements and future scenarios in the Seattle World’s Fair are reflective of the fear and hope that characterized the period.
Cold War Context: Domesticity and Technology
The Cold War was a prevalent aspect of American life from the 1940s into the 1980s. Anticommunist sentiment and pride in both capitalism and American culture persisted, particularly in the 1940’s, 50’s, and early 60’s. During a time where there was a lot of uncertainty about the spread of communism in the world, Americans relied on domesticity as a source of comfort, hope, and strength. The 1959 American National Exhibition in Moscow is a striking example of this dependence on the domestic sphere. In June of that year, the Soviet Union displayed its technologies at the Soviet Exhibition of Science, Technology and Culture in New York. The exhibition had a replica of Sputnik, “a rocket engine, a nuclear particle accelerator, and a scale model of a reactor-powered icebreaking ship.”[2] This was a very clear show of the Soviet Union’s technological strength.
However, at the American National Exhibition in Moscow several months later, the United States placed the focus on the domestic sphere, an area where they had a clear upper hand. The United States Ambassador to the Soviet Union, Llewellyn Thompson, “proposed that the displays ‘endeavor to make the Soviet people dissatisfied with the share of the Russian pie which they now receive, and make them realize that the slight improvements projected in their standard of living are only a drop in the bucket compared to what they could and should have.’”[3] By showcasing the ways in which capitalism could benefit domestic life, Thompson hoped to assert American superiority.
The exhibition showcased a model home filled with American household goods. Vice President Richard Nixon visited the exhibition and conversed with Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev about the exhibit. In their conversation, which would come to be known as the “kitchen debate,” Nixon discussed the merits of consumer goods and reflected upon the comfortable status of life that Americans had. By focusing on consumerism and domesticity, Nixon (and the American government) could “provide a reassuring vision of the good life available in the atomic age.”[4] In this sense, Americans turned to the domestic sphere as a source of comfort and hope in an uncertain time.
However, domesticity and consumerism were not the only realms in which the Cold War played out. Soviet Union’s success at launching Sputnik reminded Americans of their fears about the Soviet Union having superior technology and weaponry; the American National Exhibition in Moscow was a means of deflecting those fears. However, the United States continued its efforts to improve its technologies, especially those regarding space exploration. At the beginning of his term, President Kennedy made space exploration a priority. In 1962, he addressed students at Rice University and shared his mission to get a man on the moon by the end of the decade. In the speech, President Kennedy used rhetoric that made the situation seem important, yet very hopeful and possible.
The exploration of space will go ahead, whether we join in it or not, and it is one of the great adventures of all time, and no nation which expects to be the leader of other nations can expect to stay behind in the race for space… In short, our leadership in science and in industry, our hopes for peace and security, our obligations to ourselves as well as others, all require us to make this effort, to solve these mysteries, to solve them for the good of all men, and to become the world’s leading space-faring nation.[5]
Kennedy’s words underline the weight of the situation and his personal commitment to “winning” the space race. The use of “whether we join it or not” communicates a sense of urgency to the American people; this is followed up with more optimistic ideas, such as “adventure” and American leadership. This sense of balance is not unlike the overall dichotomy that Americans faced during the Cold War: fearfulness and hopefulness. Kennedy’s strong emphasis on the space race, coupled with previous confrontations with the Soviet Union (e.g., the “kitchen debate”), speaks to the influence of the Cold War in American life in the early 1960’s.
The Cold War’s Impact on American Design
After World War II, the number of suburbs boomed. From 1950 to 1970, the suburban population doubled.[6] Government subsidized loans made the possibility of purchasing a home much more available for many Americans. According to May, the modern suburban home was at the center of the American dream. During a period contradicted by hope and fear, Americans found comfort and economic security in the suburbs. “These homes represented the American way of life, democratic and affordable, that Nixon would extoll in Moscow.”[7] These ideologies about the home during the Cold War had an impact on American design.
Design during this period is referred to as the Atomic Age, and is marked by organic forms. According to writer Pedro Ponce, “the trend was seen by some as a search for meaning at a time when conventional values were being called into question, when the technology that would win a war held the threat of mass annihilation.”[8] The organic form was quite different from the rigid, geometric, machinist style that pervaded during World War II.[9] Organic forms, inspired by “spinning electrons and the mushroom cloud both fit within a vocabulary of images that stood for ‘life’ in Cold War America.”[10] These organic forms simultaneously represented fear and a desire to find hope in the time ahead. The confluence of atomic design, the rise of suburban America, and the Cold War conflict sets the stage for the climate of the 1962 Seattle World’s Fair.
Where the Motives Unfold: 1962 Seattle World’s Fair
In the mid-1950s, Al Rochester, a Seattle city councilmember, began planning for the fair. Originally, Rochester planned the fair as a 50th anniversary celebration of the Alaska- Yukon-Pacific Exhibition in 1909. However, as the plan expanded and more funding was approved, the theme of the fair shifted towards a celebration of the future. In fact, some argue that the choice of the World Fair’s theme — Century 21 — was sparked by the Soviet Union’s successful launch of Sputnik. In hopes of securing more money for funding, the fair’s organizers chose the theme, promising an opportunity to show the scientific achievements of the United States to the rest of the world.[11] As was previously mentioned, President Kennedy was personally committed to the space race. The United States, who was clearly invested in the theme and mission of the fair, provided $9 million in funding. This money was namely for the planning and construction of the United States Science Exhibit.[12]
In addition to federal support, the Seattle World’s Fair was heavily supported by the City of Seattle. The city helped oversee several building projects during construction, and gained ownership of several buildings after the exhibition ended.[13] Many businessmen from the city were invested in bringing money into Seattle via the World’s Fair. The planners of the exhibition chose a plot of 74 acres about a mile from the downtown center of Seattle; the two areas would be connected by monorail, thus combating growth of suburbia by strengthening the downtown area. Interestingly, as the suburbs in America were booming, some of the people that were invested in the Seattle World’s Fair hoped for “fairgrounds that would become an adjunct of the downtown area and thereby strengthen the city center against the challenge presented by the rapidly growing suburbs.”[14]
Even though many championed the suburbs as the American dream and as a positive part of society, urban centers frequently suffered as a result of suburban growth. Many people in Seattle supported the Seattle World’s Fair because they believed that these types of problems would be solved by the growth that the fair would bring to the city.[15] The combined support of the federal government and the city government illustrates the far-reaching desire of Americans to positively represent America to the world through the World’s Fair.
A Changing Landscape
The location for the World’s Fair was chosen based off of a 28-acre plot of land that was already owned by the City of Seattle in Queen Anne Hill, which is northwest of downtown Seattle.[16] The fair commission secured additional land in the Warren neighborhood.[17] Again, ideas about the changing urban and suburban landscape influenced the decision to choose the World Fair’s location in Queen Anne Hill. In comparison to the rest of Seattle, the neighborhood that the fairground was to be built in “had a higher crime rate, higher unemployment, fewer owner-occupied homes, more aged and unattractive housing, more elderly residents, lower average incomes, and fewer families and school-age children.”[18] In other words, this area was negatively impacted by the progression towards the suburbs and the effects that it had upon urban areas. In doing this, the planners aimed to replace a run-down part of the city with new buildings. This would provide a needed boost to the deteriorating urban center.
Ironically, despite attempts to move away from suburban development, the world’s fair was laid out in a manner similar to suburban design models.[19] Despite concerns about the growth of suburbia, suburban design was a very large part of American design during the 1950’s and early 1960’s. Paul Thiry, the lead architect of the 1962 World’s Fair, drew upon trends in suburban design that were popular at the time. According to historian John M. Findlay, the designers and planners of the fairgrounds were influenced by suburban malls and drew inspiration from Disneyland in Anaheim.
The introduction of a pamphlet for the fair painted the fairgrounds as an optimistic, futuristic place. The fairgrounds featured many attractions, including the Space Needle, a monorail, the U.S. Science Pavilion, and frequent shows and other forms of entertainment. As the theme of the fair was Century 21, the majority of the exhibitions focused on visions of the world in the 21st century. An overhead map (see Fig. 1) of the fairgrounds reflects the ways in which the design of the World’s Fair was influenced by suburban and atomic age design. The image is filled with a mix of clearly demarcated spaces, which was likely influenced by the suburban nature of the design. This is evidenced by the amount of green space and the ways in which the landscape is neatly divided into different sections and it appears enclosed from the outer world; this sense of order seems reminiscent of the structure of a suburban development.
By drawing upon suburban design, the fairgoers portrayed a sense of comfort and safety in American culture. Despite the suburban-inspired closed off spaces, the actual shapes of the buildings are quite organic in form. This speaks to the influence of atomic era design the related fears surrounding the Cold War. Furthermore, the interior and exterior of many buildings within the Century 21 Exhibition were heavily influenced by atomic age design. The map of the fairground contains a sense of balance between suburban and atomic age influences. Similar to the conflicting ideologies of hope and fear during this period, there are contradictions in the layout of the landscape.
The Conflicted World of Century 21
These contradictions continue throughout the various exhibitions in the World’s Fair. There are clear suburban influences, but simultaneously, fears about suburbia and the threat of an uncertain future creep in. This is further complicated by the optimistic view of the future that was being expressed throughout the Century 21 Exhibition. The Coliseum and the World of Tomorrow exhibition (both of which are encompassed within the World of Century 21) serve as examples of these conflicts within the overall design aesthetic.
The literature promoting the Century 21 Exhibition depicts the design of the World’s Fair while also acting as a futuristic scenario. By framing the narrative in a forward-looking, imaginative tone, these materials both encapsulate the future world of Century 21 and place the fairgoer directly into that future scenario. A pamphlet filled with images from the fair welcomes the visitor to a world where they can witness “a preview of tomorrow, of man’s life in the space age.” The pamphlet boasts that visitors will “see and experience work, play and travel in the year 2000 A.D.” [20] By portraying the Seattle World’s Fair in such a tone, the literature is promising an exciting, transformative look into the future. This plays upon the already-existing hopefulness that many fairgoers had about the post-Cold War future. This language persists throughout the guidebook’s descriptions of different exhibitions at the fair.
While describing the Coliseum, the language is optimistic, but it is also particularly indicative of contradictions within the design. “Rising in the center of the Coliseum, symbolically just beyond reach and yet within modern man’s range of vision, is a structure of cubes bathed in light. Within this cellular formation are the promises of tomorrow, evoked from the knowledge of the present and the fulfillment of the future.”[21] This rich language reveals the underlying tensions inherent in much of the design for the Century 21 Exhibition. The cube structure is “just beyond reach” but simultaneously within the viewer’s range of vision; the structure is meant to be representative of the future but also focuses on the present. There are other allusions to the troubling past and “man’s inhumanity to man,” which could negatively impact the future.[22] These are quite clear connections to the troubling nature of the Cold War and the concerns that many Americans had about the potential destruction that could result from the Cold War.
Despite these concerns, there is an overwhelming sense of optimism. Any time there is a reference to fear about the Cold War and the state of humanity, a statement about the bright future follows. These projections about the future act as a way of projecting hope into a tangible landscape.
The design of the physical structure of the Coliseum further represents the atomic age fascination with the organic form and its connection to life itself. The spiral staircase in Fig. 2 evokes an image of a strand of DNA, which provides the structure for all life. In the background is the “cellular formation” of cubes.[23] Furthermore, the structure is described as a “suspended nebulae,” suggesting a natural connection to a greater understanding of life in the universe. These natural forms continue into the World of Tomorrow exhibit within the Coliseum. The World’s Fair guidebook walks the visitor through the World of Tomorrow exhibition. First, groups of visitors enter the “bubbleator,” a glass, bubble-shaped elevator. They ride the elevator through the hanging cube structure, entering the “World of Century 21.”[24] A series of moving images is presented to the audience:
The newborn child and the petals of a pastel flower opening to a new day are reminders of the link between the generations of man. Suddenly the beauty of the images is scarred by the threat on the threshold of the future — dramatized by the vision of a family desperately awaiting help in a fall-out shelter. But soon these figures are gone, as the voice of a child of the future banishes their plight with words of compassion.
The organic forms of the newborn child and flower, signs of new life, are juxtaposed by the harsh threat of nuclear annihilation. The choice to incorporate this type of visual imagery is significant; it is unavoidable for the viewers, they must face it. This imagery is vivid; it paints a clear connection between the threat and fear surrounding the Cold War and the possibility for a brighter future.
Next, the visitors are shown an image of a city of the 21st century, similar to Seattle, with “the Space Needle and the Washington State Coliseum stand[ing] in harmony with their structural companions.” There are many organic, circular forms in the city; at the city center is a happy family home with new, efficient technology. The home is contrasted by “views of a dreary suburban development” and “an urban housing project with grim and gray apartment buildings.”[25] This description of the World of Tomorrow is full of contradictions. The future of the city seems positive, but worries about both suburban development and urban blight overshadow that sense of positivity. These contradictions are significant because they further underline the turmoil surrounding the Seattle World’s Fair.
Conclusion
Throughout the World of Century 21, signs of suburban influence, typically linked with safety and comfort, are intermingled with elements of atomic age design, which made use of organic shapes and reflects concerns about the possibility of atomic destruction. This view of the future for Americans in 1962 is representative of larger concerns about their present Cold War situation.
In his piece about the landscape of Seattle and the 1962 World’s Fair, historian John M. Findlay stated that “nothing goes out of style so quickly, it appears, as a prediction of the future.”[26] I, however, would argue that predictions of the future do much more than simply going out of style. Though the depiction of the future that the Seattle World’s Fair supplied may be dated, the ideas surrounding that future scenario are significant. In looking ahead to the future, the scenarios in the World’s Fair were telling of the present realities and anxieties for Americans living in the early 1960’s. The landscape of Seattle changed in order to accommodate for those representations, leaving a lasting reminder of the ways in which representations of the future can be revealing about the present.
Works Cited:
[1] Elaine Tyler May. Homeward Bound: American Families in the Cold War Era (New York: Basic Books, 1999), xviii.
[2] Greg Castillo. Cold War on the Home Front: The Soft Power of Midcentury Design. (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2010), vii-viii.
[3] Castillo, Cold War on the Home Front, vii.
[4] May, Homeward Bound, 12
[5] John F. Kennedy. Address on the United States Space Effort. (Rice University, Houston, Texas, September 12, 1962).
[6] May, Homeward Bound, 152.
[7] May, Homeward Bound, 152.
[8] Pedro Ponce. “Fallout: Art and Design in the Atomic Age.” HUMANITIES 22 (2001). Accessed December 4, 2014.
[9] Ponce, “Fallout: Art and Design in the Atomic Age.”
[10] Brooke Kamin. “Vital Forms: American Art and Design in the Atomic Age, 1940–1960.” Journal of Design History 15 (2002): 191.
[11] Howard E. McCurdy. Space and the American Imagination (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2011), 104.
[12] Seattle.gov. “Century 21 World’s Fair.” Last modified 2014. http://www.seattle.gov/cityarchives/exhibits-and-education/digital-document-libraries/century-21-worlds-fair.
[13] Seattle.gov. “Century 21 World’s Fair.” Last modified 2014. http://www.seattle.gov/cityarchives/exhibits-and-education/digital-document-libraries/century-21-worlds-fair.
[14] John M. Findlay. “The Off-Center Seattle Center: Downtown Seattle and the 1962 World’s Fair.” The Pacific Northwest Quarterly 80 (1989): 2.
[15] Findlay, “The Off-Center Seattle Center,” 2–4.
[16] Seattle.gov. “Century 21 World’s Fair.” Last modified 2014. http://www.seattle.gov/cityarchives/exhibits-and-education/digital-document-libraries/century-21-worlds-fair.
[17] Findlay, “The Off-Center Seattle Center,” 5.
[18] Findlay, “The Off-Center Seattle Center,” 5.
[19] Findlay, “The Off-Center Seattle Center,” 2.
[20] Mike Roberts and Max R. Jensen. “1962 Worlds’ Fair : Pictorial Panorama.” Seattle: Morley Studios (1962).
[21] “Official Guide Book: Seattle World’s Fair 1962.” Seattle: Acme Publications, Inc. (1962): 26.
[22] “Official Guide Book,” 27.
[23] “Official Guide Book,” 26.
[24] “Official Guide Book,” 28.
[25] “Official Guide Book,” 30.
[26] Findlay, “The Off-Center Seattle Center,” 2.
