Showing posts with label postcards. Show all posts
Showing posts with label postcards. Show all posts

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Postcards from the Future

Grinnell Lithography / Exposition Souvenir Corporation 
Anne Marie Todd recently shared a gift she picked up while combing through local antique stores to add some magic to a forthcoming event (the 50th anniversary of Communication Studies at SJSU!) - and I just had to post an image. It's a postcard booklet from the 1939-40 New York World's Fair containing images of various sites and attractions from that glorious paean to technological optimism. As a possible resource for future Rhetoric and Public Life students, I've typed up the descriptive material inside the booklet [below]. What a lovely thing to have good friends who know and appreciate one's idiosyncratic fascinations!
On the theory that the best commemoration is a re-dedication, the New York World's Fair celebrates the 150th anniversary of the inauguration of George Washington as the first President of the United States, by dedicating itself to building a "Better World of Tomorrow." 
The eyes of the Fair are on the future - not in the sense of peering toward the unknown nor attempting to foretell the events of tomorrow and the shape of things to come, but in the sense of presenting a new and clearer view of today in preparation for tomorrow [,] a view of the forces and ideas that prevail as well as the machines.
To its visits the Fair will say: "Here are the materials, ideas, and forces at work in our world. These are the tools with which the World of Tomorrow must be made. They are all interesting and much effort has been expended to lay them before you in an interesting way. Familiarity with today is the best preparation for the future."

Saturday, September 1, 2012

DPRK Postcard

Proof that, yes, it is possible to send a postcard from North Korea (if you're staying at a tourist hotel, that is)... I sent this to Jenny on August 6th. It arrived more than four weeks later, on August 31st. Happily, the card didn't set off anyone's sarcasm detectors...


Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Willow Grove Diner

Ignoring the crazy cost, I'm thrilled to add this postcard to my collection of roadside Americana. I love the time travel vibe, like we're peering back into the 40s and 50s.


Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Democracity - 1939-40 NYWF

This is an artifact-set from the 1939-40 New York World's Fair, a site studied by students of COMM 149F: Rhetoric and Public Life. The images are scanned from the 1939 Official Guide Book, while the text comes from Gilbert Seldes' description of Democracity in Your World of Tomorrow (a booklet, shown below, sold at the Theme Center). Both are from my personal collection. Click the images for a larger view.


Henry Dreyfuss' Democracity was a popular exhibit that promised a glimpse into the world of 2039. To see Democracity, visitors entered the Perisphere after departing an escalator rising from the adjacent Trylon [see the postcard at the bottom of this post for illustration]. Inside the Perisphere, fairgoers viewed a city diorama from an overhead vantage point upon twin revolving mezzanine balconies. From their god's-eye view, visitors surely recognized the calm and confident voice of beloved radio commentator H.V. (Hans von) Kaltenborn, who explained the scene. While I'm borrowing from booklet text, I can hear him saying these words: "Here it is . . . and we like it. It's attractive and sensible at the same time. It's pleasant because we've spent a lot of money to make it so . . ." As David Gelernter [author of 1939: The Lost World of the Fair] might say, this was the voice of authority.

Democracity may not appear all that revolutionary to contemporary viewers, but the exhibit was pretty remarkable to visitors at the 1939-40 NYWF. A central city would be ringed by Pleasantvilles and Millvilles, all surrounded by green parklands. Democracity's future was a profound change from the world of today experienced by its visitors. In this future people would live, work, shop, and play in areas sufficiently distinct from one another to ensure order through proper zoning, even as they would be connected by a system of highways to ensure that no region would be too far from any other [see Democracity being designed]. No longer would cities feel like mazes of teeming humanity; no longer would rural regions seem disconnected from the world around them. The future would be ordered even as the people would be free.

Democracity promised suburbs -- fairly boring, right? Not if you consider this vision from the perspective of its Depression-era visitors. To them, Henry Dreyfuss' future promised to guard civilization itself from the forces that threatened to tear it down: "On one side is the World of Tomorrow, built by millions of free men and woman, independent and interdependent . . . On the other side is chaos . . ." Given that people in 1939 were contemplating the chilling prospect of a second world war, this after a wretched decade of deprivation, one may hardly doubt that they knew the meaning of these words. Still, even as chaos surely resonated with visitors' justified fears of continued economic struggle and military conflict, we may safely assume that they also referred to the kind of chockablock disorder found in cities that allowed all manner of classes to overlap in an expansive and potentially frightening public sphere. That kind of chaos was also manifested within the modern mind in 1939.

The promise of public life was therefore somewhat complex: an attempted balance of freedom and discipline. That's why as the display reached its conclusion a sound and light show depicted the independent and simultaneously interdependent vision of tomorrow, as disparate social groups appeared to merge into one harmonious whole:
"These giant figures . . . with arms linked . . . priest and farmer and miner and housewife . . . sandhogs and baseball players and telephone operators and ministers . . . dairymen and cotton pickers and brakemen and nurses . . . men and women of all nations . . . They are marching in triumph."
After the six minute show, visitors excited the Perisphere and glided back to earth, walking down the sweeping helicline ramp in a clever transition designed to inspire contemplation of Democracity's promise that planners could build the world of tomorrow with the tools of today.

Learn More: See an artifact from General Motors' Futurama.

Note: Henry Dreyfuss was sometimes spelled Henry Dreyfus in period publications. Artifacts from Official Guide Book: New York World's Fair (1939, Exposition Publications Inc., New York), 42-45. Quotations from Your World of Tomorrow (1939, Gilbert Seldes, author; Rogers-Kellogg-Stillson, Inc., New York), np. In all quotations, the use of ellipses appeared in the original text. Postcard from my personal collection.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Magic Motorways: Fotsch reads Futurama

Note: This summary of Paul M. Fotsch's article, "The building of a superhighway future," is designed primarily as a reading guide for my students. I do not claim to represent the entirety or sophistication of the insights offered by the author. This summary merely suggests some ways in which Fotsch's piece might contribute to our course conversations. I should add that I've chosen to start posting these sorts of summaries on my blog rather than on my department webpages in an experimental attempt to blur some of those seemingly stark boundaries between academic inquiry and public life. Observations? Criticisms? Recommendations? Don't be shy. Post a comment.

"O engineering, open door
To worlds unknown before"

- Song of the World's Fair
John Black (cited in Fotsch, 2001, p. 74)


Talking about world's fairs helps us understand the early-20th century shift in civic influence toward planners and "experts" in the United States. The topic is especially salient as we investigate how the nation employed various rhetorics of scientific expertise to confront its wrenching transformation from agricultural to urban life. Paul M. Fotsch's essay, "The building of a superhighway future at the New York World's Fair," contributes to this conversation by illustrating how the 1939-40 NYWF offered a bit of optimism for a nation working to slough off the Depression while still anticipating bloodshed overseas, even as the Fair worked to train its visitors to adopt a corporate vision of tomorrow [one Fair slogan that sounds suspiciously like a chamber of commerce line: "Building the World of Tomorrow with the Tools of Today"]. At this fair, public life would be transformed by transportation [See the Pennsylvania Turnpike for one real-life application of this vision].

How could innovations in motor transit bring about improvements in public life? Fotsch (2001) focuses much of his essay upon one corporate answer, a fascinating exhibit at the 1939-40 NYWF: Futurama, built by General Motors to demonstrate how central planning could help erase social instability (along with traffic jams) through a spectacle that blended "amusement, information, and promotion" (p. 84). [Check out an artifact of Futurama from my collection] Given his critical perspective, Fotsch attends closely to the implications of this kind of boosterism, proposing that Futurama helped popularize a technopolis that led to oppressive social conditions amid the well-manicured lawns of suburbia in the decades that followed.

The author begins with an overview of the 1939-40 NYWF as a showcase of modernity. Fotsch cites Lewis Mumford's description of the Fair as the story of "planned environment . . . planned industry, [and] planned civilization" (quote from Joseph P. Cusker, cited in Fotsch, 2001, p. 68). Along with Futurama, one highlight of that showcase was Democracity and its depiction of suburban life [here's an artifact; also, here's another image of the exhibit's making]. Located in the Fair's Perisphere, Democracity reflected a fear of urbanity, with its soot and violence and its jumble of peoples [one can imagine much behind earlier Victorian euphemisms that still influenced the modern mindset]. In contrast, Democracity was a planned community in which rational organization eliminated social tension, where careful segregation of land use - domestic, commercial, industrial - ensured regulation and control, a place where "homes turn their book doors to the streets" (Norman Bel Geddes describing Radburn NJ, cited in Fotsch, 2001, p. 70). The gospel of the Fair, after all, was order. It's no surprise that one of the nodes of Democracity was called "Pleasantville."

Building this world of tomorrow required city planning and regional cooperation on a vast scale. Thus Fotsch recalls New York city administrator Robert Moses who used the Fair - an illustration of planning by "progressive" objectivity rather than "machine" patronage - to help popularize the concord between corporate and political America necessary to endure the difficult times to come. This was no mere theme park; it was a blueprint for the next century, a vision that would not be promoted by ward heelers but by experts. Fotsch adds, "This strategy for highway planning presupposes that engineers will know better than local residents what will benefit them most" (p. 73). This was a future built upon scientific principles that would tolerate no petty disputes. Public life, as defined by the planners and their streamlined designs (p. 75), had no more time or patience for the discord of democracy. Speed rather than inertia, horizons rather than returns, led to the future.

Managing that speed called for organization beyond the limitations of human sense-making. The velocities of the future and the demands they would impose upon the fragile self would require that people become adapted to ever more ubiquitous technologies of control. Such transformation of the roadways would parallel, Fotsch notes, the desire of Fair planners to inspire unity among formerly dispersed communities. Inspired by Futurama and Democracity, the latter with its light and sound exhibit that literally portrayed disparate labor groups merging together as one, "the people could easily speak out in one voice" (Warren Susman, cited in Fotsch, 2001, p. 78). The results would be economic efficiency, improved communication, and growing consumer demand - with the added benefit of a reduction in social disorder wrought by unemployment and the creation of more opportunities to soak up excess production (p. 79). In this way, the Fair sold progress as a corporate invention and as a means for corporate growth. Managers rather than laborers would naturally lead the way.

Fotsch then shifts to Max Horkheimer and Theodor W. Adorno whose Frankfurt School critique of America's culture industry calls for readers to look beyond the glittering future produced by the Fair. Most notably, Fotsch employs Horkheimer and Adorno to describe how even the act of touring Futurama could be interpreted as a way to naturalize mechanized modes of production into the performance of everyday life and leisure, transforming people being "educated" by the exhibit into passive consumers. In this way, "Futurama exemplifies perfectly how entertainment could subtly promote particular corporate interests" (Fotsch, 2001, p. 83). While he recognizes recent critiques against the perceived totality of mass culture proposed by Horkheimer and Adorno - he even cites David Gelernter's response to critiques of the Fair's consumerism (what if Americans wanted a future of television sets and superhighways and streamlining?) - Fotsch holds to his larger point, that the Fair could be termed a machine for producing corporate citizens. Further along he suggests a more complex interpretation, that coordination between public and private efforts, as illustrated by the 1939-40 NYWF, affirm a last gasp of a capitalist system hurtling towards collapse. [When one considers the current plight of GM and its need for government intervention, one cannot help but wonder how correct that assessment may be, living now as we do in the "world of tomorrow."]

Fotsch then begins to wrap up his essay with a section on "Motorway Discipline," which should remind some readers of themes found in the Gernsback Continuum. Relating the highways of Futurama to the autobahns of Nazi Germany, Fotsch states that the tension between planning and the people, while palpable in that era, was overshadowed by more sophisticated means of ordering the nation to a war-footing, not one against an enemy beyond U.S. shores but one internally against labor agitators [and, presumably, feminists, given Fotsch's citation of Delores Hayden], particularly since "[d]ispersal and isolation [enabled by interstate highways and distant suburbs] make organizing for social protest more difficult" (p. 90). In this way, the automobile, rather than liberating people, served instead to ensure their more orderly control. Fotsch concludes his essay by noting that, ignoring some of the more fantastical promises that the Fair could not keep, we got much of the future that the 1939-40 NYWF envisioned. Now we must consider the consequences.
Read the entire essay: Fotsch, P.M. (2001). The building of a superhighway future at the New York World's Fair. Cultural Critique, 48, 65-97.

Difficulty accessing the essay? Let me know. It's worth reading and I'm happy to help you find it.

Want to read more? Professor Fotsch included an extended version of this essay in his award-winning book, Watching the Traffic Go By: Transportation and Isolation in Urban America (Buy it on Amazon). In that chapter, he addresses more the contradictions between the Fair's ideals of integration and equality and the practices found at that site.

(Postcards and other images from my personal collection)

Monday, April 27, 2009

Ayers or Uluru

These two postcards collected from our 2005 Australia trip illustrate the cultural tensions of visiting Uluru, formally known as Ayers Rock.



I was fascinated to learn that the Ayers Rock and Uluru postcards are published by the same company: Barker Souvenirs, Alice Springs.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Chicago Burlington Diner

Anticipating this summer's 2009 Wood Family Diner Tour, I thought I'd share a lovely (and pricey) new addition to my postcard collection: The Burlington Diner.

Here's text from the card's reverse:

A Unique Place to Eat
The Burlington Diner
An Original Burlington R.R. Diner
4183 So. Halsted St. Chicago, ILL.
Famous for Good Food

Serving Day and Night Since 1939
For Ladies and Gentlemen
Phone: VIrginia 7-9078

Opposite Chicago Union Stock Yards
And International Amphitheatre

Clean and Quick Service
Best Coffee In Town
Air Conditioned

Friday, August 29, 2008

Mid-Century West Coast Florida - Orange Blossom Groves

This week I'm sharing some postcard views of Florida's west coast, images from the 1940s and '50s. Each day, Monday through Friday, comes a new scene from the Sunshine State's tourist past.

Quoting a handwritten note on back of the (January 29, 1957) card: "We have a very nice place to stay here/have been out on the lawn sitting ... flowers all in bloom & birds singing."

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Mid-Century West Coast Florida - Moses Tabernacle

This week I'm sharing some postcard views of Florida's west coast, images from the 1940s and '50s. Each day, Monday through Friday, comes a new scene from the Sunshine State's tourist past.

Quoting from back of (undated) postcard: "World's most wonderful shrine - Full Size Replica of 'Moses Tabernacle in the Wilderness' - with all its beautiful symbolic furnishings which reveal the foundation of all divine religion on earth."

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Mid-Century West Coast Florida - Glass Bottom Boats

This week I'm sharing some postcard views of Florida's west coast, images from the 1940s and '50s. Each day, Monday through Friday, comes a new scene from the Sunshine State's tourist past.

Quoting from the back of the (hand-dated, 1940) postcard: "See Silver Springs - 'Nature's Underwater Fairyland' - Largest flowing springs in the world, over 750 million gallons daily. Electric driven glass bottom boats. Greatest depth 80 feet. Temperature of water 72 [degrees] winter and summer. Shown from sunrise to sunset, every day in the year."

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Mid-Century West Coast Florida - Spook Hill

This week I'm sharing some postcard views of Florida's west coast, images from the 1940s and '50s. Each day, Monday through Friday, comes a new scene from the Sunshine State's tourist past.

Quoting from the back of the (hand-dated, 1952) postcard: "Here playful ghosts apparently seize your car and in defiance of the laws of gravity and your previous experience in such matters, roll your vehicle gently backward uphill, while they chortle in unholy glee at your mystification."

Monday, August 25, 2008

Mid-Century West Coast Florida - St. Petersburg Pier

This week I'm sharing some postcard views of Florida's west coast, images from the 1940s and '50s. Each day, Monday through Friday, comes a new scene from the Sunshine State's tourist past.

This undated card comes from a booklet of St. Petersburg scenes. More developed blog posts I've written about that city include notes on the following:

  • St. Petersburg overview: "St. Pete was ... covered with the thick patina of older memories and places: sprawling waterside mansions and stuccoed hotels, bustling downtown restaurants filled with shoppers and strollers, and a strict racial geography that distilled the world below Central Avenue into South St. Pete."

  • St. Petersburg Pier: "The St. Petersburg Pier has long fascinated me. Growing up nearby, I remember visiting the famed local hangout and tourist attraction with my mom. But this was the 70s, and the pier had been remade into its current iteration as an inverted pyramid. Only while flipping through postcards at a local antique shop did I discover the older 'Million Dollar Pier,' which had been built in 1926 and demolished a year before I was born."

  • Webb's City: "[D]uring its heyday, Webb's City was renowned (and attacked) for its 'stack it high and sell it cheap' philosophy and its fearlessly tacky gimmicks that included dancing chickens, mermaids, and dollar bill-sales (95 cents per buck). Webb's City was a southern tradition."

  • Aunt Hattie's: "Aunt Hattie's was a St. Petersburg landmark since opening in 1939 as a hamburger joint. By the time my mother made a habit of visiting in the 1970s, Aunt Hattie's had a new building and had expanded to become a pleasant sit-down restaurant known for its toy chest. I remember waiting for my chance to seize a prize after I cleaned my plate."
  • Friday, August 15, 2008

    Highways Week - National Highway

    All this week I'm celebrating the American roadside. From Monday through Friday I'm opening up my postcard collection to showcase images from our nation's Age of Mobility.

    Quoting handwritten note from the back of the (September 5, 1936) postcard: "Dear Brother, it is 5.30 [illegible] have come to Cumberland to day/will start back now/want to go to Mt. Vernon Monday/With love..."

    Thursday, August 14, 2008

    Highways Week - US 80

    All this week I'm celebrating the American roadside. From Monday through Friday I'm opening up my postcard collection to showcase images from our nation's Age of Mobility.

    While there's no text or date on the back of this card, the image paints a vivid (though somewhat idealized) portrait of California's southern deserts.

    Wednesday, August 13, 2008

    Highways Week - Tamiami Trail

    All this week I'm celebrating the American roadside. From Monday through Friday I'm opening up my postcard collection to showcase images from our nation's Age of Mobility.

    Quoting a handwritten note on the back of the (May 18, 1951) card: "Dear Mama - Drove clear down the East Coast to Key West, Florida. Now we are coming back up the West Coast and are here at Punta Gorda, Fla. We are on our way to New Orleans, Louisiana. Tell Smokey hello."

    Tuesday, August 12, 2008

    Highways Week - US 17

    All this week I'm celebrating the American roadside. From Monday through Friday I'm opening up my postcard collection to showcase images from our nation's Age of Mobility.

    Quoting a handwritten note on the back of the (August 23, 1952) card: "Arrived here 30 min. late/may be late at Washington."

    Monday, August 11, 2008

    Highways Week - Route 66

    All this week I'm celebrating the American roadside. From Monday through Friday I'm opening up my postcard collection to showcase images from our nation's Age of Mobility.

    Quoting a handwritten note from back of the undated card: "This is R. 66 on the West of Albuquerque, and R. 66 goes through the city and we live on the other side of these mts."

    Friday, August 8, 2008

    GGIE Week - Ferry Building and Exposition Island

    All this week, I'm celebrating the Golden Gate International Exposition, which was held on an artificial island near San Francisco in 1939-1940. From Monday through Friday I'm opening up my postcard collection to share some of my favorite images from that exposition, the Pacific Coast's answer to the 1939-40 NYWF.

    Quoting from the back of the card: "More than 55,000,000 people pass through the portals of the San Francisco Ferry Building each year, where boat connections are made for the East Bay cities and for other rail connections in all directions."

    Thursday, August 7, 2008

    GGIE Week - Court of the Moon

    All this week, I'm celebrating the Golden Gate International Exposition, which was held on an artificial island near San Francisco in 1939-1940. From Monday through Friday I'm opening up my postcard collection to share some of my favorite images from that exposition, the Pacific Coast's answer to the 1939-40 NYWF.

    Quoting from the back of the card: "Court of the Moon at the 1939 Golden Gate International Exposition on Treasure Island in San Francisco Bay. Center, the Tower of the Sun; left, the Palace of the Mines, Metals and Machinery; right, the Palace of Homes and Gardens.

    Wednesday, August 6, 2008

    GGIE Week - Triumphal Arch at Night

    All this week, I'm celebrating the Golden Gate International Exposition, which was held on an artificial island near San Francisco in 1939-1940. From Monday through Friday I'm opening up my postcard collection to share some of my favorite images from that exposition, the Pacific Coast's answer to the 1939-40 NYWF.

    Quoting from the back of the card: "The graceful Arch of Triumph reflecting in the fountains of the Court of Flowers at the Golden Gate International Exposition on Treasure Island in San Francisco Bay. Through the Arch a glimpse of the Siamese umbrella lanterns in the Court of Reflections.