The Seattle World’s Fair, in Six Parts
04.23.2021 for Memo Furniture
Introducing the Fair | “World’s Fairs, stimuli for new ideas and for probing the future, are places of education, wonderment, excitement, and amusement,” asserted Paul Thiry, the primary architect for the Century 21 Exhibition. More widely known as the Seattle World’s Fair, this exhibition opened its four entrances to the public on April 21st, 1962. With an unforgettable space-age theme, the fair anchored America, and its increasingly jet-focused city of Seattle, as leading characters in the worldwide race to put man into space. For six months, fairgoers explored 74-acres of science, commerce, industry, entertainment, food, and art. Thiry continued, “The termination of Century 21 Exposition will mark a beginning. Seattle World’s Fair is a phoenix among fairs, far from it will emerge a new phenomenon of plazas and buildings destined to provide pleasure for present and future generations.”
The Architects | The fair of 1962 served as an opportune moment to introduce Seattle’s roster of contemporary architects and engineers to international audiences. Paul Thiry, the fair’s primary architect, selected the site, envisioned the boulevards, and designed a “theme building.” The fair’s executives agreed that this theme building, the Washington State Coliseum, needed an accomplice—a design that would serve as a permanent landmark, just as the Eiffel Tower had transitioned from world exposition to a world-famous symbol. Seattle architectural firm John Graham & Co., with help from Victor Steinbrueck, imagined the Space Needle. It was an icon with ticket-selling appeal that could exist as a long-lasting identifier of the city. Seattle’s Kirk, Wallace, McKinley & Associates designed The Playhouse, and Priteca & Chiarelli Architects created the Opera House. Internationally-praised Minoru Yamasaki was commissioned to develop a six-building complex for the sciences. Architecture West trade magazine, whose office was based in Seattle, illustrated the intersection between the world’s fair and local design industries: “The Seattle World’s Fair presents a punctuation mark—probably an exclamation mark—in the city’s progress at which it is timely to attempt to see its architecture in a broader perspective than usual.”
The World of Tomorrow | The Seattle World’s Fair visitor program introduced the World of Tomorrow exhibition inside the monumental Washington State Coliseum (KeyArena). It read, “Under the coliseum’s gently sloping room, designers have translated in visual dramatic terms the combined insight of scientists, educators, and philosophers into the future of man.” An acrylic elevator nicknamed “The Bubbleator” escorted 100 people upwards into a series of illuminated aluminum cubes. After arriving at its destination, the exhibition floor, the space-age host’s voice welcomed the guests, “Utopia! Century 21! First floor! Step off into the future, please. We’ve all got to do that sometime…” Screens projected images, flashing from past to present, alongside narration and sound effects. For 21 minutes, guests toured a thrilling city of tomorrow: monorails, rapid electric vehicles, and visions of idealized homes and offices. At the conclusion, President Kennedy’s voice came into focus, urging the people inside the exhibition to be conscious of how they’ll imagine and design the future world.
The US Science Pavilion | Minoru Yamasaki’s United States Science Pavilion married Gothic elements with a striking modern execution. Until the fair, the campus was the most extensive science exhibition commissioned by the American government; its underlying hope was to secure the US into a technologically superior ranking. Trade magazine Architecture West predicted the exhibit would become “a real fair-stopper,” and architect Victor Steinbrueck called it a “dazzling, decorated sanctuary.” Visitors ascended lightweight steps into an outdoor, u-shaped courtyard of multiple levels, either hovering over or level with a pond and fountains. Everything dictated a pristine white hue: the railings, the precast concrete open-ribbed vaults, and the windowless, rippling walls. Five 100-foot arches commanded the center of the outdoor space—their scale careful to not compete with the nearby Space Needle. The pavilion’s first activity for guests to marvel at was the 14-minute film The House of Science, a bombardment of images and narration created by the Eames Office. The remainder of the compound housed a science theatre, Boeing “spacearium,” children’s laboratory, and various interactive stations.
Furniture at the Fair | In the same spirit of developing the fair's architecture and grounds, those planning the Seattle World's Fair placed a heavy emphasis on interior design and furnishings. The Herman Miller Furniture Company supplied seating and office systems for the U.S. Science Pavilion and various smaller exhibitions, such as the Plywood Home of Living Light. Furniture families were selected based on aesthetics, function, and pricing. Herman Miller furniture designed by the Eames Office, Alexander Girard, and George Nelson was crafted from post-war mass production technologies, utilizing industrial materials that echoed the jet age. Gone were the days of cumbersome, ornately- carved wood furniture. The fair showcased the direction interior design had been heading in during the mid-century era, and predicted how trends would evolve as man expanded into new avenues of space. Because these pieces were manufactured to withstand decades of use, many of the original furnishings exist today within the basements, conference rooms, and halls of the fair’s permanent structures.
Construction and Demolition | Beginning in 1960, over two hundred pre-existing homes, businesses, and miscellaneous structures were cleared within the fairgrounds' intended perimeter. As construction began, Paul Thiry’s architecture office bore a 750-pound scale model of the fair. Seattleites found the enormous expense of the fair worrisome, but as the structures started to take shape, the overall sentiment was that of excitement. As 9pm approached on closing day, October 21st, approximately 28,000 visitors still loomed among the fairgrounds. As the attractions grew dark, the Gayway, the fair’s miniature amusement park, remained lit. Guests begged for final rides on the Ferris wheel until midnight when a voice thanked everyone from above, “Ladies and Gentlemen, the Seattle World’s Fair is closed.” Demolition of temporary exhibits followed in the next months, and structures like the United States Science Pavilion began their transition into their more-permanent identities. With tremendous thanks to the City of Seattle and the foresight of Thiry and Century 21’s administration, one is still able to fill one’s ears with the sound of the International Fountain and walk underneath Yamasaki’s arches. Perhaps the most memorable: one can still take a vertical ride in a golden elevator—finding oneself closer to space and the future.