As the 2012 Olympics sets about re-making a whole swathe of east London, Barry Turner’s book marks the 60th anniversary of the Festival of Britain, which did the same for London’s South Bank after the war. Where the stupendous, Pharaonic construction site of the 2012 Olympics and its £9 bn budget is all in aid of a few weeks of running and cycle races, 60 years ago there was a far more ambitious cultural event. Centred on London’s South Bank, which was cleared of its industry and Victorian architecture, the Festival of Britain sought not only to celebrate the best of Britishness but also to set new standards and paradigms for modern design, aesthetics and architecture. With satellite festivals all over Britain, it attracted 8 ½ million visitors in a year (the Millennium Dome managed only 5 ½ million). The Royal Festival Hall was built, as well as the Dome of Discovery (then the largest unsupported roof in the world), and the long-lamented, Skylon (a futuristic aluminium pylon). The Scandinavian design we now take for granted with IKEA’s furniture was a big influence in the Festival buildings’ architecture. As well as nostalgic appeal its story constitutes a kind of sequel to David Kynaston’s Austerity Britain, as the Festival gave the British people permission to enjoy themselves and look forward at last to a future of modernity and prosperity.
Barry Turner has been a full-time writer for 30 years. He has worked as a journalist and broadcaster in the field of politics, biography, travel and education, and is the author of over 20 books. He is a regular contributor to The Times as a book reviewer and serializer, and is the editor of the annuals The Writer's Handbook and The Screenwriter's Handbook.
It captures the quirkiness of us Brits. The love of the ‘bodge’ and trying to do things on the cheap!
The Festival was the brainchild of a Labour Government so the Tories didn’t like it (some things don’t change!) but Churchill was won round by a bit of pandering to his ego.
Comparisons with the 1851 Great Exhibition. The 1951 Festival served a different purpose: to lift spirits after the war and to look to the future. (Soon it would be the Coronation with focus back on the past and Britain’s past glories).
It all sounds to have been fun, not always intentionally…
Buried within the tale of the Festival of Britain is an alternative history of the country after WW2. All physical traces of the Festival were swept away in short and almost vindictive order by the incoming Conservative government, keen to avoid leaving a "socialist monument" and instead to focus on the imminent Coronation - in other words, to recoil from the unfamiliar and uncertain promise of Modernism (alongside a nasty taint of collective endeavour) to the safe, reassuring narrative of ruling class tradition and heritage of which the party had always considered itself a rightful component. Of course, the fifties would also be marked by growing affluence ("never had it so good") across British society, but this in turn would lead to the horrendous balance of payments problems faced by the Wilson administration in the sixties, which scuppered his 'White Heat' revolution, and subsequently the massive inflation of the seventies that did for the Heath and Callaghan governments and ultimately, the post-war consensus itself.
Would it have been different had the spirit of the Festival, and not that of a 'new Elizabethan age', prevailed instead? Turner's fond, light yet celebratory book invites us to ask that question, while closing with a mildly comforting reminder of the less significant ways in which the endeavour would exert an influence on a new generation of designers and architects (although in the latter case, one can argue that its key lessons were missed). He is excellent on the various personalities involved in the creation of the event, focusing rightfully more on the organisers and designers than the politicians. He provides a serviceable overview of the various features and exhibits, including those for related country-wide events, a smattering of amusing anecdotes from visitors and staff and where appropriate an informed opinion on the successes and failures of the overall project. Where perhaps the book falls down is in a frustrating lack of visual details, barring a selection of documentary photographs in the middle, but this wish may better deserve a different (and more expensively produced) work.
The closest recent parallel to the Festival would perhaps be the Millenium Dome; here Turner acidly notes how the Dome's organisers, and chief amongst them Herbert Morrison's grandson Peter Mandelson, ignored at least two of the guiding principles that underlay the Festival to their cost (easy access; no sponsorship). In which case, perhaps the 2012 Jubilee is the equivalent of an incoming Conservative administration falling back on a straightforward appeal to patriotic tradition to bolster its project (although this time, the austerity boot is very much on the other foot). When you hear that the Cabinet collectively "banged the table" with approval on learning of William and Kate's engagement, it's clear who is back in charge.
Interestingly, the former site of the Festival is now the Jubilee Gardens (created for the Silver Jubilee in 1977 but lately revamped, interestingly requiring an indemnity provided by the DCMS under Secretary of State Jeremy Hunt). Its website makes a brief passing reference to the previous use of the land, but I rather suspect that there are fewer reminders on the ground (beyond the rather unmissable one of the Royal Festival Hall next door, of course).
Why doesn't school teach us about such important modern events? I learnt when I was 21, in University, just how influential this exhibition was not just in Britain, but worldwide. A showcase, of what will be, the modern lifestyles they all aspired to have, which we now take for granted. This was how they unveiled those ideas to the world. Incredible stuff.