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The Year of Politics and Art
by
Lauren Roberts
France was still feeling the aftereffects of World War I, and what would become the Second World War was less than two years away when the L’Exposition Internationale des Arts et Techniques dans la Vie Moderne of 1937 took place in the pavilions of various countries which had been constructed along the Seine.
The International Exposition dedicated to Art and Technology in Modern Life lasted 185 days, from May 25 to November 25, and was located in Paris’ center from the Champs de Mars, from in front of the Trocadero to the banks of the Seine. It encompassed 259 acres of which 23 acres were occupied by buildings housing the various pavilions. Forty-four countries participated. Eleven thousand exhibitors served and met more than 31 million visitors.
In an extensive article titled “Confrontation: The Exposition Internationale Des Arts et Techniques dans la Vie Moderne, 1937,” Arthur Chandler noted that the exposition leadership “did their best to confront . . . some of the most important dualisms that divided humanity against itself: the split between Paris and the provinces, between France and her colonies, between art and science, between socialism and capitalism, between Fascism and Democracy. The official philosophy of the exposition still paid homage to the twin gods Peace and Progress, as all parties at the great ceremony in Paris intoned the faith: no matter how bleak the world seems to be, the twin gods will see humanity through to a glorious future.”
The Exposition was birthed in 1929 when the president of the Chambers of Commerce proposed to the French Lower House that France hold an international exposition following in the footsteps of he 1925 Exposition des Arts Décoratifs. The initial proposal restricted it to the arts and crafts, but by 1932 the proposal had been altered to include science, language, arts and technology. By doing so, France hoped to not only generate international intellectual cooperation but to alleviate the French economic crisis and a growing tense international atmosphere. The result was an exposition that concentrated on applied arts and modern industry. According to Chandler:
This explicit social and economic agenda marks a new stage in French thinking about her expositions. In all the previous events, increased business was recognized as an economic by-product of staging an exposition. But it was a by-product, and not part of the official plan. Idealist promotion of the belief in Peace and Progress, advancing national prestige, and contributing to a worldwide exchange of information – these were among the principal stated goals of the past universal expositions. The 1937 exposition marks the first time that an exposition is launched in order to shore up a sagging economy and to provide jobs for the unemployed.
In October 1934, Edmond Labbé was appointed Commissioner General, and the project officially become a Category 2 Exposition. Formal invitations went out to all countries with diplomatic representatives in France to take part.
The old Trocadero Palace, which had been built in 1878, was made available, but the required restoration costs were prohibitive. A face-lift was given instead with Jacques Carlu, Louis-Hippolyte Boileau and Léon Azéma modifying the original concept by demolishing the main building between the curved wings and constructing the main hall underground. This created a large square flanked by two pavilion-like ends with monumental cornices. These formed the visual frame for the broad axis of view which led from the opposite bank of the Seine with the Eiffel Tower, via the ornamental ponds and their surrounding sunken gardens, over the theatre and monumental terraced staircase, up to the square in front of the Palais where the main avenues came together in the form of a star at the Peace Column at the entrance. More than 20 artists and forty sculptors were involved in decorating the Palais and its gardens.
The extensiveness of the site with its collection of highly varied buildings was to be integrated within the cityscape. In addition, the arrangement of some groups of buildings symbolized the heightening political tensions. Ironically, a Peace Column was erected in front of the main entrance as a symbol of the peaceful alliance of nations. The southern square and the bank of the Seine were reserved for foreign pavilions. The major theme pavilions (landscape, transport, etc.) and other foreign pavilions lay behind the Eiffel Tower on the Champs de Mars. The buildings housing the French regional exhibits were to the west of the Eiffel Tower, and the handicrafts, sciences and gardening pavilions to the east. The city commissioned more than 700 murals and employed over 2,000 artists to decorate the pavilions.
Another building which became permanent was the Museum of Modern Art on the northern bank of the Seine. The large area in front of the Dôme des Invalides housed a large funfair with entertainments and restaurants. The Palais de la Découverte was erected within the Grand Palais and gave a magical and informative introduction into modern natural sciences and technology.
At the opening ceremony, Minister of Trade, Fernand Chapsel, said: “France's decision to hold this major event in insecure and difficult times demonstrates faith in its fate and the future of peace. And by taking up the invitation, the peoples of the world have demonstrated their solidarity with this faith and that they also intend to direct their efforts to the same objective. The World Exposition will have fallen short of its goal if it were merely a spectacle . . . It must be a meeting place for the comparison of experience and achievements, where their accomplishments give people reason for moving closer together, to understand one another better, at the same time as finding the best benchmark for their own talents. This is a milestone of progress and a starting point for common achievement.”
The objective was to use exciting attractions and comprehensible learning aids to bring the latest scientific and technological developments to the public. The exhibition was therefore not only designed by scientists and architects but also involved painters and other artists. Because the French national collection of modern art and the Paris municipal collection were inadequately housed, a decision was made to construct the long-planned new museum buildings as an integral part of the Exposition. A design competition for the Museums of Modern Art was held in 1934, and what resulted was a neo-classical complex split into two axis-symmetrical buildings connected at the front by an elevated open colonnaded square, both opening at the other end towards the river with quarter cycle curves. The centre was occupied by a large sculpture-flanked ornamental pool.
Numerous illuminations were organized. Fountains transformed the Seine into a glittering avenue of light and lit the roads and paths. Buildings, both inside and outside, shone with colorful spotlights, and fireworks displays and swarms of illuminated balloons rose into the night sky. The Eiffel Tower’s arches were lit by 10,000 neon lamps in three different colors as well as fireworks mounted from top to bottom of the tower that showered the night sky with repeated displays.
But it was politics that dominated the fair. Though it had not yet exploded into war, European political fervor was a strong thread that ran through various pavilions. Several exhibiting countries used their pavilions as vehicles of nationalistic propaganda by showing off the fruits of their political and economic systems. Unquestionably, it was the symbolic showdown of the spectacular German and Soviet pavilions—the architecture so indicative of what was coming—that then and even today remains the most dominant icon of that exposition.
Interestingly, these two countries had two things in common: they were the only two pavilions completed on opening day and the architect of each took home a gold meal for his respective design. (To his surprise, and that of Hitler, Speer also won a Grand Prix for his model of the Nuremberg party rally grounds.)
 
It would be fascinating to know what was going through the minds of the Exposition organizers when they decided to place Germany and the Soviet Union opposite each other. Hitler wanted to withdraw, but his architect, Albert Speer, who had accidentally seen the Soviet Pavilion plans while in Paris, convinced him to participate by showing him his own plans. They were impressive. A tall tower, 500 feet high, was topped by the two symbols of the Nazi state, an eagle and the swastika that at night were illuminated by floodlights.
The interior of the German Pavilion, designed by Waldemar Brinkman, was dominated by aura-enhancing lighting effects, triumphal phrases and other dominating hallmarks. Heavy bronze doors, an open staircase, chandeliers, a wall hanging with the imperial eagle and swastika over an altar-like plinth with models of major construction socialist construction projects, a cinema/television/radio room and more all worked together to create a powerful impression on its visitors.
The Soviet Union’s pavilion, designed by Boris Iofan, was a grand building topped with a dynamic statue of a male worker and a female peasant looking forward, their hands together thrusting a hammer and sickle into the air above them in a symbol of communist unity, was stunning, commanding, energetic. It had been created by Vera Mukhina, a prominent Soviet sculptor at the time. Titled “Worker and Kolkhoz Woman,” it stood nearly 80 feet tall and weighed 75 tons.
(The Soviets didn’t stop there, however. Among other exhibits was a map of Russia made entirely of gold studded with rubies, topazes and other precious stones, an artistic triumph intended to emphasize the country’s industrial growth. If the leadership of the country intended its dominance to be clear, they succeeded brilliantly.)
The Soviet Pavilion would have been impressive under any circumstances. But its location—directly across from that of its snarling ideological rival, Nazi Germany—increased its power. The two faced each other in what has been termed a “dramatic architectural confrontation” with “self-aggrandizing monuments to their nationalistic spirits.”
The Spanish Pavilion, though smaller and perhaps less visually impressive had more artistic power. Many of the artists of the period were concerned about the fate of their country under the growing threat of fascism. Civil war had raged in Spain since 1936. An exhibition was not of major interest until it was recognized that it offered an opportunity to raise international public awareness of its situation, to affirm the legitimacy of the Spanish Republic, to bring its social programs to the attention of the world and to educate others about the suffering the war produced. José Luis Sert. the architect for the Spanish Pavilion, gathered together intellectuals and artists including Picasso, who was living in Paris at the time, to contribute their efforts.
 
Not only did the pavilion stand in the shadow of the two major rivals, it was seven weeks late in opening. It missed the wide publicity that the grand opening generated, and worse, it wasn’t even listed on the official maps.
Still, it had an remarkable line-up of artists. Picasso, Joan Miro and Alexander Calder all contributed works intended to highlight this suffering. Ernest Hemingway also contributed to a film, Spanish Earth. Unfortunately, the goal of the Pavilion with its emphasis on suffering and dead children clashed with the goals of visitors to an exposition designed to promote the wonders of technology. Many found Picasso’s painting, Guernica, a memory to the German air force attack on the Basque town, repulsive and contrary to the spirit of the Exposition. But the building earned praise for its design and architecture. One entered via a garden path embellished with sculptures to the first room in which was housed Guernica and Calder’s famous Mercury Fountain.
The United States’ Pavilion, a towering skyscraper designed by Paul Weiner, showcased Roosevelt’s New Deal with displays that pointed up how American government was overcoming the Great Depression. The Departments of Treasury, Commerce, Interior and Labor used an unparalleled series of public works funded by the federal government. At the center of all the displays featuring the New Deal stood a huge relief map of the Capitol.
Finland produced one of the best exposition buildings. It was designed by Hugo Alvar Aalto and unanimously praised by the contemporary press. Its primary material was traditional Finnish construction material wood, which was used not only used in the load-bearing structure of the building but also in the outside walls, the partition walls and in the interior decoration. Undulating ceilings and flowing walls highlighted the modern construction characteristics and living quality of the material; several roofed terraces integrated within the park-like site were dominated by mature trees. Large skylights provided gentle illumination harmonizing with the building material. A few white walls provided effective contrasts. And because most of the building was prefabricated in Finland, it only required assembly once on site.
Pavilions were only part of the attractions. In addition to music, entertainment, restaurants and cultural exhibits, there was an early celebration of the Centenary of the Arc de Triomphe, the International Floralies, motorboat races on the Seine, a dance festival, horse racing, a production of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, a Colonial Festival, world championship boxing matches, a Grape Harvest Festival, 42 different international sporting championships and every night, “Visions of Fairyland on the Seine.” But technology received the most attention. There was a Railway Pavilion and a Palais de l’Air Pavilion, an immense gallery reminiscent of an airplane hanger where radial airplane engines rested on pedestals and, from the ceiling, gigantic aluminum rings encircled a Pontex 63 fighter plane. Bas reliefs showed airlines tying together Europe, the Americans, Indochina and Africa. Dioramas of paintings and mural-sized photographs showed the history of aviation. A “Gallery of Technology” demonstrated the problems of wind flow and corrosion. Military aircraft, parachuting, sport flying, and even model-airplane building were all represented at the various booths.
An exposition coloniale presented handiwork and crafts by the subject peoples of the French empire for appreciation by the citizens of their governing nation. The theme pavilions had the natives hawking their “primitive” artisanship beneath the imported totem poles and fronds of the newly-planted banana trees, palms and cacti.
But perhaps most telling thing about the 1937 Exposition was the unwillingness by most participants to distribute information about the materials and processes used in their exhibits. Knowledge—that bastion of war and of victory—was being hoarded in anticipation of the upcoming confrontation. The Exposition Internationale may have had the façade of international good will, but its participants well knew that it was the opening discharge of a war that would fully detonate two years hence.
The Exposition lasted just over five months. By itself, it was not a financial or tourism success. Though 44 nations participated and more than 31 million visitors came from all over the world, France spent 495 million francs more than it took in, and the visitor count was half the number of the 1900 exposition. Still, if one includes the increased numbers of people who attended theatre and musical performances, museums and cultural events, experienced train travel and stayed in hotels, France’s financial coffers came out ahead. Perhaps more importantly, the mood carried none of the buoyant optimism that had prevailed at the 1900 Exposition. It had no chance of doing that with the brute confrontation between the German and Soviet buildings, with the hoarding of information and industrial processes, and even with the guards and signs that prohibited the photographing or sketches of any of the exhibits or public displays.
For the many Americans—maybe even for the person who originally bought this bookmark—the 1937 exhibition was a chance to visit a beautiful country, drink wine and enjoy a luxurious vacation. If any of them came home with a sense that history was at a turning point then they also picked up more of a souvenir than they no doubt anticipated.
Bookmark specifications: Of Course YOU Are Going to the Exhibition
Dimensions: 7” x 1 3/4”
Material: Cardboard
Manufacturer: French government / Dureysen
Acquired: eBay
Since her childhood days of Mother Goose, Lauren has been giving her opinion on books to almost anyone who will listen. Lauren shares her home with several significant others including three cats and nearly 1,000 books that, whether previously read or not, constitute her to-be-read stack. She can be reached at Almost since her childhood days of Mother Goose, Lauren has been giving her opinion on books to anyone who will listen. That “talent” eventually took her out of magazine writing and into book reviewing in 2000 for an online review site where she cut her teeth (as well as a few authors). Stints as book editor for her local newspaper and contributing editor to Booklist and Bookmarks magazines has reinforced her belief that she has interesting things to say about books. Lauren shares her home with several significant others including three cats, 800 bookmarks and approximately 1,000 books that, whether previously read or not, constitute her to-be-read stack. She is a member of the National Books Critics Circle (NBCC) and Book Publicists of Southern California as well as a longtime book design judge for Publishers Marketing Association’s Benjamin Franklin Awards. You can reach her at
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