The cold war wasn't just about bombs. It was about cars, shoes and kitchens according to a new exhibition
In 1959, Richard Nixon and Nikita Khrushchev made a rare public appearance together at Moscow's newest landmark: the American National Exhibition. A few days before the opening, the two men strolled through the pavilions, bickering flirtatiously for the press, and pretending to admire US handiwork. When they entered the re-creation of a Long Island kitchen, however, the tone changed. Khrushchev averred that Russian kitchens were longer-lasting than American ones and that, in any case, he doubted the average US worker could afford what was on display. Nixon said they certainly could, and what became known as the Kitchen Debate gathered steam until the US vice-president thundered: "You must not be afraid of ideas!" Infuriatingly, the Russian president smiled and said: "That's what we're telling you - don't be afraid of ideas."
The man responsible for the kitchen and everything else on show that day was Jack Masey, now 84 and sitting in the office of his design firm in Manhattan. On the table in front of him are papers relating to what he calls "the whole shebang" - the two decades he spent working for the US Information Agency, which sounds like a branch of the CIA but, Masey assures me, is not. At the height of the cold war, it was Masey's job to attend world fairs and deliver an idea of America that outshone the idea of the Soviet Union - not through missiles, but through hairstyles, kitchen units, car designs and, at one point, a mechanical talking chicken.
The concept of the world fair, the expo, seems quaint today. But in the 1950s, it was a chance to show people things they hadn't already seen, things that were exciting and new, even if it was at heart a big, colourful piece of propaganda. Russia's reciprocal exhibition in New York focused on Sputnik, heavy farming equipment and a big statue of Lenin; some of what Masey and his team came up with for the Russians - Pepsi, Ford cars, Levi jeans, Disney films - are still basic units of Americanism today.
Masey's photographs and blueprints for the fairs form part of Cold War Modern, the V&A's big autumn exhibition, showcasing design, architecture and film from the era...
Read entire article at Guardian (UK)
The man responsible for the kitchen and everything else on show that day was Jack Masey, now 84 and sitting in the office of his design firm in Manhattan. On the table in front of him are papers relating to what he calls "the whole shebang" - the two decades he spent working for the US Information Agency, which sounds like a branch of the CIA but, Masey assures me, is not. At the height of the cold war, it was Masey's job to attend world fairs and deliver an idea of America that outshone the idea of the Soviet Union - not through missiles, but through hairstyles, kitchen units, car designs and, at one point, a mechanical talking chicken.
The concept of the world fair, the expo, seems quaint today. But in the 1950s, it was a chance to show people things they hadn't already seen, things that were exciting and new, even if it was at heart a big, colourful piece of propaganda. Russia's reciprocal exhibition in New York focused on Sputnik, heavy farming equipment and a big statue of Lenin; some of what Masey and his team came up with for the Russians - Pepsi, Ford cars, Levi jeans, Disney films - are still basic units of Americanism today.
Masey's photographs and blueprints for the fairs form part of Cold War Modern, the V&A's big autumn exhibition, showcasing design, architecture and film from the era...