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Right:
Comprehensive Storage System (1957), with other products, including
dishware, flatware and a Rek-O-Kut turntable
Below: Catenary Chair (1962) supported at either end by elegantly thin
steel structure

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McNay Art Museum
George Nelson: Deeply considered design for the (two-decade)
American Century
June 16, 2011
America’s
faith in itself, its power and prestige, reached its zenith in the two
decades between the end of World War II and full-scale involvement in
Vietnam.
What did that self-confident, forward-looking, go-getting, somewhat
cheeky America look like?
It looked a lot like “George Nelson: Architect, Writer, Designer,
Teacher,” the summer exhibit in the McNay Art Museum’s Jane and Arthur
Stieren Center for Exhibitions. Organized by the Vitra Design Museum in
Weil am Rhein, Germany, the exhibit opened on June 8 and continues
through Sept. 11. Vitra is the company that is licensed to manufacture
Nelson’s designs
for Europe, and the company's museum is the repository for the Nelson
archive.
As director of design for the American manufacturer Herman Miller
(1946-1972) and head of his own design firm, Nelson created or
shepherded the creation of iconic designs that are still in production
today -- among them, the widely imitated platform bench (1946) and
translucent plastic “bubble lamps” (1947), the delightful “ball clock”
(1948), and the “coconut chair” (1955). Howard Miller Clock Co., a
family spinoff from Herman Miller, initially manufactured Nelson’s
numerous shapes of bubble lamps and clocks, many examples of which are
included in this exhibit.
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Some of Nelson's many
clock designs, emphasizing abstract, decorative geometry
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These and other products (the exhbit also includes plastic dishware,
logo designs and even a late-1950s Rek-O-Kut turntable, of blessed
memory) helped establish a distinctive style of decor that was
compatible with the lean, minimalist Modern architecture of the
post-war period. Nelson, however, was not just a stylist. He was a
designer in the proper sense, reconsidering the fundamentals of
furniture and architecture in response to changes in culture and the
nature of work.
The post-war period brought a
big change in America's self-image. The
character of that change was prophesied, and to a large degree was
directly influenced, by a 1941 "Life" Magazine essay, "The American
Century," by Henry Luce, publisher of "Life," "Time," "Fortune" and
"Sports Illustrated." Luce's essay was partly descriptive, but mostly
prescriptive: America, he said, should set aside its isolationist
tendencies, enter World War II, win it, and assume the mantle of world
political, economic and cultural leadership that, until then, the
country had evaded. "The American Century" -- the phrase and the
sentiment, if not the essay itself -- came to be as widely known as
"The pause that refreshes," and as widely imbibed as Coca-Cola.
Americans started thinking differently about their nation, especially
after American power did indeed prevail in the war.
After the war, America adopted Modernism as virtually its national
style, an emblem of America's new dominance of the West and new sense
of progress. Old World styles and Old World patterns
of thought were not suited to the American
Century. The entire period covered by the McNay show, the 1950s no less
than the
1960s, was characterized by increasing mobility, in both the literal
and figurative senses. The end of World War II brought tremendous
growth in housing and automobile ownership, and the combination of the
two brought the autocentric suburbs into being -- wholly new
urban
forms. The same period gave birth to the Interstate Highway System and
the eclipse of trains and ocean liners by air travel. Television
overtook radio, bringing the world into the living room with new
immediacy and vividness. The burgeoning Civil Rights movement and the
steep decline of income inequality (which plunged when the United
States entered World War II and wouldn't rise appreciably until the
Reagan administration) upset long-settled power relations. The arts
challenged corporate conformity (Sloan Wilson's "The Man in the Gray
Flannel Suit") and valorized the individual creative quest beyond
established forms (Jackson Pollock, Allen Ginsberg, John Cage).
Corporate and governmental organizations grew larger and more
bureaucratic, but also more complex.
Accurately counting the pulse of
this highly fluid culture, Nelson
brought certain key ideas to bear in his design work -- modularity,
scalability, flexibility, system integration.
In some cases, the working out of these ideas was exceedingly simple.
Nelson’s slatted wood bench could also be used as a platform because he
designed other pieces to be the same depth. The McNay show
includes a
chest of drawers resting on one end of a platform bench; the two pieces
look like a single unit.
The Comprehensive Storage System (1957) reflects a more complex design
challenge, applying to furniture the inherent scalability of Modern
architecture. The Comprehensive Storage System is a range of modular
units -- cabinets, shelves, drawers, lighting -- designed to be
supported on steel posts. The units can be mixed and matched in any
combination to suit the users’ specific storage and workspace needs,
and the system can be extended at will by adding support posts and
modular units. The concept spawned innumerable progeny in home and
office wall systems, by many different (and mostly lesser) designers.
It also was the precursor, for good or ill, of the office work station.
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Left: Action Office
units were designed for flexible arrangement
Right: Model of modular American National Exhibition in Moscow, USSR
(1959), a State Department showcase of American art and technology. The
exhibit included a model kitchen, site of the famous "kichen debate"
beween US Vice President Richard Nixon and Soviet Premiere Nikita
Khrushchev.
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The
modular idea also generated a design for an unbuilt “experimental
house,” a model of which is included in the McNay exhibit.
Structurally, it’s an array of identical orthogonal steel frames, the
size of a small room, with the verticals extended below floor level to
lift the base above the ground. Domed roof modules, wall modules and
connector modules can be affixed or left off to allow great variety of
plans, with a variety of room sizes and outdoor courtyards. This, a
decade before Moshe Safdie’s modular Habitat ’67.
A similar system was used to create a sprawling “Jungle Gym” framework
for the 1959 American National Exhibition in Moscow, site of the famous
“kitchen debate” between US Vice President Richard Nixon and
Soviet
Premiere Nikita Khrushchev. A scale model of the complete exhibit and
several full-size segments are on display at the McNay.
The Action Office (1960) consists of easily movable units that can be
rearranged at will. Conflicts between furniture legs and human knees
are virtually eliminated by cantilevered work surfaces. A round table
is supported by a thin steel pedestal rising from a wheeled base. The
concept of movable, light-weight, cantilevered surfaces had been
brewing for more than a decade:
In 1949, Nelson had hatched the Tray Table, a small, thin table
cantilevered on a thin telescoping pedestal. (Alas, the McNay show does
not include an example of the Tray Table, but that's about the only
significant omission.)
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Spare X-leg table, "pretzel" chair and wheeled typewriter table:
Minimal design ideally suited to idea work
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The McNay’s publicity materials
describe this exhibit as “Modernist design from the ‘Mad Men’ era,” a
reference to the popular AMC television series about Madison Avenue
advertising executives in the 1960s. The reference is apt because the
minimalism of Nelson’s office furniture -- desks no longer were
glorified file cabinets -- seems most appropriate for idea work,
especially idea work done by teams that may be assembled and
disassembled depending on the projects at hand. That’s the kind of work
that was growing rapidly in the 1950s and 1960s -- in the creative
departments of advertising agencies, in the offices of editors at
magazines and publishing houses, in the entertainment industry and of
course at architecture and design firms. Similarly, the abstract,
decorative geomery of Nelson's clock designs was more suited to the
flexible, unpredictable pace of idea work than to the precisely
calibrated realm of widgets-per-second industrial production. Nelson
was prescient: Idea work leads the American economy today.
The law of unintended
consequences remains in force. Modularity and
scalability, which Nelson conceived as a framework for humane and
specifically tailored environments, too often yielded stultifying,
ill-fitting and permanent uniformity when translated (by others) into
work stations for large organizations. Nelson's elegant Tray
Table
would be adapted by lesser designers, often with an enthusiastic
application of vulgarity, as the TV tray table. And America's
self-image as the world's Good Samaritan -- Luce's term -- would lure
us into the Vietnam War.
But there are worse things to
be than a Good Samaritan, and the
inevitable misappropriation of deeply considered, elegant design is
hardly an argument for mediocrity.
Mike Greenberg
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