The Japan Pavilions at the New York World's Fairs
in 1939-1940 and 1964-1965
in 1939-1940 and 1964-1965
The Japan Pavilions at the New York World's Fairs
in 1939-1940 and 1964-1965
It took a while for expos to start up again after World War II, but when they did, the Japanese government and corporations both seized the opportunity, to show how the country had changed and to advertise their wares. In Brussels in 1958, Japan showed how it had recovered ‘from the edge of the abyss’, courtesy of a long-standing ability to reconcile ‘hand and machine’. In Seattle in 1962, New York in 1964-5, and Montreal in 1967, Japanese tradition continued to frame the products of what was becoming dubbed an ‘economic miracle’. New York stood out from the others, however, both as a stage and as an unauthorized world’s fair.
Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library
1964 New York World's Fair Promo Film Robert Moses John F. Kennedy, This film is part of the Periscope Film LLC archive.
The city’s population had been more or less stable since the late 1930s, but both its composition and distribution had changed. African American and Puerto Rican in-migration surged during and after the war, while white New Yorkers began to move further out, pushed by the changing character of the older neighborhoods, but also pulled by the new American Dream, which was underpinned by local initiatives. Following the war, Robert Moses had consolidated his command not only of infrastructure, but of public housing, building high-rise blocks and the freeways that allowed some to flee the city for a single-family suburban home.
Fair Map, Collection of NYPL
By the early 60s, however, his star was on the wane, tarnished by his plans for more expressways and his antipathy to cherished local institutions. He was also running short of cash. Presiding over another world’s fair promised to kill several birds with one stone: to provide him with a princely income, together with massive construction budgets with which to shore up his power, and to complete the transformation of Flushing Meadows from ash dump to public park. Moses had no real interest in fairs, however. He refused to abide by the rules of the official governing body of international exhibitions. The Bureau International des Expositions in turn refused to recognize the fair and directed its members not to participate.
Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library. "Unisphere (under construction)" The New York Public Library Digital Collections. 1959 -1971. Public Domain.
What emerged on site, therefore, was a pale reflection of its predecessor, animated primarily by the need to balance the books. The fair used what an architectural critic called the same “zombie ground plan” as in 1939-40. A “Unisphere“ replaced the Trylon and Perisphere to embody “Peace through Understanding.” There was little focus to the whole, however, which was animated instead by the commercial need to differentiate oneself from the competition. The car companies again mounted the popular exhibits, with General Motors reprising Futurama. Foreign countries abided by the BIE diktat, appearing courtesy of private sponsorship, rather than government initiative, with small, commercially-minded exhibits.
By Ron White - en.wikipedia ((redlink) Sup4141, 2007-12-08), Public Domain,
Space Park, as it appeared in December 1963 before its official opening. Public Domain
By David Pirmann - US NY NYC 1964-65 Worlds Fair Fountain of the Planets (processed 05-1965) 22 CE Family Coll, CC BY 2.0, Public Domain.
By David Pirmann - US NY NYC 1964-65 Worlds Fair Monorail (processed 11-1965) 05 CE Family Coll, CC BY 2.0, Public Domain.
Despite its focus on profit, however, the fair was soon in trouble, falling short of visitors and income, which the press used as a rod with which to beat Moses’s vulnerable back. By the same token, the organizers were eager to make the most of emerging attractions such as Japan.
The Japanese government was one of only six to sponsor its own pavilion, alongside Indonesia, India, Pakistan, Egypt, and Mexico. Brussels in 1958 and Seattle in 1962 had provided useful opportunities to reintroduce itself on the Euro-American stage, reminding white audiences of the craft traditions that underpinned its pacific contemporary development. New York offered a bigger stage, synchronized with the 1964 Tokyo Olympics, to shift the focus to its striking progress in industry and technology.
Its exhibit remained ambivalent, however, allowing Western visitors and observers to see the Japan they liked. The official pavilion, designed by Mayekawa Kunio , provided a sober, modernist setting for the official story of industrial progress, but was divided in two. In the first part of the exhibit, organized by JETRO, the moral was underlined by a 6.3 ton Lambda L-2 rocket, suspended from the roof, together with a replica of the world’s largest tanker, a model of the world’s fastest express train, and evidence of Japan’s proficiency in refining oil, generating power, planning cities and more. The second part, however, was organized by the Japan Exhibitor’s Association (JEA) and focused on consumer goods, setting cars, tv sets, and sewing machines alongside demonstrations of flower arranging and the tea ceremony.
Two Japan pavilions next to each other. Collection of NYPL
Wall of lava stones by Nagare Masayuki. Collection of NYPL
Japan Pavilion guide, Collection of NYPL
Floor Plan of the main Pavilion designed by Mayekawa. Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
Nor was this all. The JETRO building sheltered behind an imposing wall of lava stones by Nagare Masayuki, which provided a suitably archaic backdrop for demonstrations of Japanese martial arts. The JEA had also commissioned a wooden-framed second building, the “House of Japan,” which was accessed through what was advertised as “a lovely Japanese garden.” Inside, “two picturesque restaurants” offered “Japanese food delicacies,” during the consumption of which visitors could watch “a colorful native stage show.” Sakura Odori started in a peony garden, proceeded through a lion dance, clothes-washing, rice-planting, and more, before culminating in the Awa Odori from Tokushima. Self-exoticism remained good business sense.
The JEA had also commissioned a wooden-framed second building, the “House of Japan.” Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
Interior of the “House of Japan,” Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
Sakura Odori brochure, Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
Japan’s value to the fair is clear in the official records. The Shinto ground-breaking ceremony, the presentation of a happi coat to Robert Moses, visits by a sumo grand champion, and a tv star, were recorded for posterity by fair photographers. As they tried to refresh the fair for its second season, the organizers petitioned the Japanese government for Buddhist sculpture from Nara and Kyoto, from the Asuka period on (as identified by a curator from the Met), a showing of the official Olympics film, and a visit by the Crown Prince. In the end, they got a privately-owned replica of the Nikkō Tōshōgū Shrine, made in the 1920s, and a visit by Prince Mikasa, who was dutifully photographed entering and leaving the pavilion and watching the Olympics film.
The Shinto ground-breaking ceremony. Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
Robert Moses, second from the left, at the Shinto ground-breaking ceremony. Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
At the same time, the organizers were trying to discipline the Japanese exhibitors. Seikō had sent a robot on walkabout outside the pavilion, soliciting visitors to come and see its exhibit, in contravention of official fair policy. Riccar persisted in holding a drawing, in which visitors could win a free sewing machine, as long as they bought a cabinet to go with their prize. By 1965, the organizers were getting sick of the “stunt” and threatening to close the whole pavilion. It stayed open, but the JEA only finally paid its debt to the corporation in April 1966.
Seikō had sent a robot on walkabout outside the pavilion. Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
Hitachi catalogue, Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
Mitsubishi Electronic brochure. Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
The belief that Japan should know its place was clear from the remarks Moses had made at the groundbreaking ceremony. He paid his respects ”to those who have been before and shall be again a very great people.” He noted how Japan had become a ”bastion of freedom” under American stewardship. He welcomed Japan’s “ancient arts and … modern wares … as evidence of your meteoric rise from utter prostration to renewed respect, dignity, serenity and world leadership.” But, he reminded his Japanese listeners, they still had to ”compete … for the good opinion of the world.”
Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
Neither the narcissism of Moses, the ambivalence of the Japanese exhibit, nor the shenanigans of Japanese exhibitors dented Japan’s reception in the North American press. The Japanese-American press was less enthusiastic, however. The New York Nichibei consigned a perfunctory Japanese-language report on the opening day in 1964 to an inside page. On its first English-language page, however, Taxie Kusunoki reported its “vague disappointments.” Nagare’s wall, he thought, was the “fascinating.”
Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
But he was unconvinced by scooters, magnets, “computing-type machines and transistorized everythings.” “No room for culture?” There was nothing on sale that wasn’t already available in the Japanese gift shops of Manhattan. The show in the House of Japan had its charms, but overall he left feeling underwhelmed.
Nagare’s stones also proved the main attraction for the organizers, who were eager that they remain in Flushing Meadow once the fair had closed. It was not to be. In October 1965, the New York Times announced that a section of the wall was being donated to Manhattanville College in Purchase, and which was expanding its Asian Studies programs. The wall was delivered, but proved too unwieldy to be reinstalled. Some of the stones were used in the garden of the president’s house. The others seem to have been disposed of in what is now a sports field. Back in Flushing Meadows park, a few of the structures still stand, but nothing of the Japanese pavilion remains.
The newspaper writes “Both Happy and Sad” as the fair closes. Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library.
