Sdtrk: ‘No love to give’ by The United States of America

O, this entry’s a bizarre one. Not necessarily due to the building itself, which brings bold new meaning to the term ‘fab’, but of the odd circumstances surrounding it. Tonight, our spotlight swivels with a bit of a squeak, due to insuficient joint lubrication, and illuminates Villa Spies (pronounced ‘spees’, just so you know), designed by Staffan Berglund, and finished in 1969.

At the press of a button, Jetsons style, the central table and chairs rise into the ceiling, while a dining table rises up from the kitchen below. At the press of another button, slides can be projected onto the walls or the colour of the room can be changed via lighting control – an idea that has only recently reappeared in interior design.
quoted from this site

Lovely, lovely, lovely. HOWEVER! Finding info not in Swedish on Villa Spies (now known as Villa Fjolle) was a bit of a barney, as it was pretty much looked down upon by the architectural community upon completion, and the first monograph to actually discuss it and show it in detail was only just published in 1996. ‘Looked down upon?’, you ask, incredulous. ‘Why, wouldn’t this be the perfect place for sexy Moonbase operatives such as Lt. Gay Ellis to relax after her month-long shifts on the Moon, working with SHADO to defend Earth from alien attacks??’ That’s exactly what I said! Well, it appears that with the aforementioned design of the elevating diningroom column, it was implied that the homeowners would have servants preparing your meals downstairs, which, in an enlightened Sixties-era home in progressively thinking Sweden, was simply ‘not done’. Hrm…

Were I an occupant of Villa Spies and inviting people round to dinner, I’d just make it down in the under-kitchen, set the readied plates on the table, and then have my guests enter. ‘Where the heck’s Davecat?’ they’d ask, approaching the centre of the livingroom. Then suddenly, I’d flip whatever switch, and ascend dramatically from the lower floor, smirking like a pro from behind the dinner table, as the meal would arrive. Preferably as the theme from ‘On Her Majesty’s Secret Service’ played over the speakers. ‘No, Mr Bond, I expect you to eat!’

Many thanks go out to Marc Berting, proprietor of ‘Seventies Design‘, which is where I first spotted Villa Spies. Ta very much for the info!

Sdtrk: ‘Mile end’ by Pulp

On my inevitable headstone — a three-inch thick slab of moulded smoke-coloured perspex with chrome highlights, flanked by angelic figures carved in the likenesses of Twiggy and Peggy Moffitt — the inscription will read,

Well, probably not. But it is a statement based on fact, as evidenced by this latest instalment of ‘This was the Future’. Tonight! We peer intently at Expo 67, held in Montreal, Canada!

the Katimavik, Canadian Pavilion

Visitors could climb onto the gigantic Katimavik via a series of stairs including the final open one that cut diagonally up to the topmost perimeter of the inverted pyramid (an elevator for the elderly and handicapped). Inside a display of unusual “sculptures” was fixed to the four sloping sides. Many of them moved while eerie electronic music accompanied the sculpture’s movement in an odd dance of dance and movement. [..] The view of Expo from the Katimavik’s 109 foot high top was spectacular. Below, beside the Katimavik was the six story high abstract People Tree. Its brilliant red and orange nylon “maple leaves” were actually hundreds of color photographs depicting Canadians at work and leisure. At night they turned incandescent under floodlights.
taken from this site

It being an expo, the Katimavik wasn’t the only building with a fab design. The German Pavilion was a giant white-tent-with-metal-exoskeleton affair, Great Britain’s entry was an enormous white Brutalist slab, which somewhat echoed their castles and the idea of Albion, and the United states had a vast geodesic dome designed by the inimitable Buckminster Fuller. And, of course, some of the more astute fans of the ‘This was the Future’ series will remember that Expo 67 also was home to Moshe Safdie’s unique Habitat 67, appropriately enough.

I also think one of the reasons I dig Expos of the Sixties variety, is due to a lot of the overreaching Space-age names that the places and the buildings received. The Gyrotron! The Magnasphere! The Ultravex! The Panheligate! The Supertropophone! Fantastic, on so many levels

Sdtrk: ’22: The death of all the romance’ by the Dears

Good news, bad news: I’ve run across a site that contains not one, but 15 — fifteen! he said, squealing like a schoolgirl — sterling examples of 20th century Modern architecture from eastern Europe. The bad news would be that all the info contained therein is in Deutsche. Of course, if you naturally speak German, this is in no way a problem, but for me, it makes finding additional info difficult. Would you believe it’s nearly impossible to find anything on my personal favourite, the Empfangslounge für Regierungsmitglieder Flughafen Bratislava (Reception lounge for Cabinet members, Airport Bratislava) pictured below? Damnit!

Anyway, the site is called ‘ostmoderne‘, and if the above picture does nothing to stimulate your retro-modern aesthetic senses, you are dead inside. Dead, I say

Sdtrk: ‘Sorry for laughing’ by Josef K

Wee bit of a story behind the choice for this evening’s installment: A couple of years ago, I commissioned Mike, a mate of mine, to do an illustration of Sidore-chan for ‘Kitten with a Whip!’, and I wanted her drawn standing in a fab and distinctive setting. So Mike pointed me towards his vast library of reference material, and after poring through a couple of rather heavy books, I settled on a place in New York City, NY. I was really pleased with Mike’s ace rendition of both Sweetie and the background, and it was profiled as an omake (bonus) on ‘KWAW!’ for a couple of months. I’m sure some of you remember it.

Click here for full-sized version; opens in new window

For years afterward, the name of the actual location managed to elude me, until recently, when doing research for Vol.18 of the ‘This was the Future’ series. Now that I know what the place is called, I can finally sleep at night, thank god thank god.
And so! We bring you the Rockefeller Guest House, by Philip Johnson.

The home is one room wide, and upon entering, the living room stretches far back until it is book-ended by floor to ceiling windows that closely mimic the façade’s layout. The living room space has white brick walls and features lighting fixtures designed by Mr. Johnson. Beyond the windows, there is a small courtyard that features a prime example of Philip Johnson’s concept of “safe danger”. In the courtyard, visitors must carefully walk on square travertine stepping-stones and avoid falling into the shallow reflecting pool on either side.

Oddly enough, there’s really not a lot of info on the Rockefeller Guest House; well, none that I could find. Sure, you’ll run across articles left and right on his Glass House, and I probably would’ve done an installment on the Glass House myself, but I’ve already done the Farnsworth House. (Zing!) But the Guest House is pretty ace as well. Granted, it might look like an uninspiring sort of miniature Fifties-built warehouse from the front, but the interior — especially that courtyard — is amazing. Subtle? Yes