
Jested Tower, 1968-73 Karel Hubácek. © Jirí Jiroutek
Exhibition Review – Freya McClelland gets to grips with 'Cold War Modern: Design 1945 - 1970' which runs at V&A until January 11 2009
Cold War Modern: Design 1945-70 is a landmark show. It is the first exhibition to examine contemporary design, architecture, film and popular culture on both sides of the Iron Curtain during the Cold War era. The curators trawled all over Eastern Europe looking for objects to display and some have never been seen outside the artist’s studio
What is striking about the exhibition, despite or perhaps because of the desperate promotion of binary utopian ideals, is the thread of ironic humour which is evident throughout. Hindsight allows gentle mockery, however, the show resists making any easy or superficial judgments.
While the period after the Second World War was one of anxiety and tension, it was also one of great optimism and unprecedented technological advancement. After the unparalleled destruction and inhumanity of the Second World War, there was an opportunity to build ‘brave new worlds.’
The opposing ideological stances of communism or capitalism permeated every design idea in an attempt to gain ground in the competition for moral superiority and influence. This was a new and elusive front: The Cold War.

Messerschmitt Kabinenroller KR200, 1955 Fritz Fend. © Die Neue Sammlung (A. Laurenzo)
The show’s interest lies in the constant parallels between the Soviet and Western mentality. Nowhere is this more apparent than in Berlin on either side of the Iron Curtain where each built their rival architectural visions: the monumental ‘Stalinallee’ in the East and the Modernist housing schemes of ‘interbau’ in the West.
Models and architectural plans of these feature in the show and were to be a prominent embodiment of each side of the political divide.
Alongside chilling discordant music, the kind you might find in a B movie horror film, the obligatory defensive propaganda posters prey on fears of ‘the other’ and add a sinister dimension amid the frantic building. These became less popular as optimism on both sides became a conceptual requirement.
With the death of Stalin in 1953 and subsequent presidency of Nikita Krushchev the ‘thaw’ began. This diminished hostility is carefully documented and in a surprise turn, design was brought directly into the arena of politics via the famous Kitchen Debate between Richard Nixon and Krushchev at the opening of the American National Exhibition in Moscow in 1959.
The two leaders debated the relative merits of capitalism and communism amid an array of American goods - indeed, standing inside a mock-up of a suburban US kitchen. According to the show's curator, Jane Pavitt, "The cold war had established a new battlefront: the home."
The exhibition's central premise - that the Cold War was fought as much with toasters and teacups as much as military threats - might appear ridiculous if it weren't true. This new battle was fought in material goods.

(Above) Still from 2001: A Space Odyssey, 1968 Stanley Kubrick. © MGM/Photofest
From the West we see the recognisably shiny coffee makers, sleek womb-like chairs, the extraordinary micro car Messerschmitt Kabinenroller and the iconic Vespa motorscooter. The morality of objects, was fully explored by the Ulm School of Design and some key works are featured here.
Surprises from the East include the innovative and beautiful Czech glass, arguably the best being made in Europe at the time, with product designers given more freedom than their counterparts in the fine arts.
"This jaunty modernity is an unexpected side to the cold war," said Pavitt. "I think people won't expect to see this array of creativity from the eastern bloc."
Artists had the potential power to build bridges. Communist Party member Pablo Picasso lent his ‘Dove of Peace’ to the peace movement and it is shown here in numerous forms. Picasso’s visit to Poland is documented although ultimately his expressionist style was at odds with the enforced Soviet policy of artistic social realism.
The exhibition looks at how doves were used in the rhetoric of peace and propaganda on both sides and how both sides erected competitive peace monuments to herald a new age.
These hopes were dashed with the building of the Berlin Wall in 1961 and by renewed fears of world annihilation with the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962. The threat of nuclear war and ‘the bomb behind the brain’ is explored here in Buckminster Fuller’s Dome over Manhattan, 1962 and Gerhard Richter’s 1964 painting Phantom Interceptors.

Garden Egg Chair, 1967-8 Peter Ghyczy. © V&A Images
The exhibition also looks at the technological age of radios, televisions and with a sad nod to modernity you can see Walter Pichler's TV Helmet, in which the entire head was encased by a television set. Stanley Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove is also shown on a loop, illustrating how film could be a satirical tool to ridicule the nuclear arms race.
Competitive telecommunication towers were a feature of this era and there is an impressive model of the Ostankino Tower, built in Moscow in 1967 as the tallest free-standing structure in the world.
To counteract the pointless commercial ‘one-upmanship’, the section on revolution and rebellion is a welcome relief. The uprisings in Paris and Prague in 1968 are examined through Atelier Populaire political posters, the college diaries of Jiri Kolar and photographs showing the tanks rolling into Prague by Josef Koudelka.
In a less brutal attempt to promote international socialism, Mikhail Kalatozov’s film, Soy Cuba, presents an idealised image of the Cuban Revolution.

Scarf to commemorate the 'World Festival of Youth and Students for Peace', Berlin, August 1951 Pablo Picasso. © ADAP, Paris and DACS, London 2008
A highlight of the show is the section of Space Odysseys: The Space Race. On display are real space artefacts including spacesuits and a sputnik but also the artistic responses in futuristic design, including the fashion of Pierre Cardin and Paco Rabanne. This show has irreverence and intelligence and should be seen.





