1957: Chemicals manufacturer Monsanto opens its House of the Future at Disneyland. In the midst of the Cold War and standing at the threshold of the Space Age, the future is where we all want to be.
The striking, futuristic structure — elevated on a central pedestal with its four wings cantilevering outward from the center — perched over a landscaped garden featuring a waterfall and pond that provided an oasis of calm in the teeming amusement park. The whitewashed exterior was all synthetic, and the sides of each wing were pure glass, bathing the interior in sunlight, or moonlight, or some weird Disneyesque dreamlight.
The future according to Monsanto, however, was to be found inside the 1,280-square-foot domicile.
The kitchen and two bathrooms — one for the parents and one for the kids — occupied the center of the structure. Out on the wings were a living room, a family room, a master suite and two small bedrooms crammed side by side: one, according to the literature, for the boy of the future and the other for his equally futuristic sister. One thing about the interior that was decidedly contemporary was the color scheme: Counter tops, rugs and furniture were bright and ghastly in a way that just screamed NINETEEN FIFTIES!
In the 1967 movie, The Graduate, a callow Dustin Hoffman learns that the future is "plastics." Monsanto anticipated that sage advice by a decade, because almost everything inside the House of the Future was indeed made using plastics, including the walls, ceilings and floors. The family of the future would sit in plastic chairs, and dine on plastic tables using plastic plates and flatware. Fortunately for those of us actually living in the future, the all-plastic scenario was never fully realized.
Monsanto got some things right, though. A centerpiece of the futuristic kitchen was the "revolutionary" microwave oven. Monsanto didn't really dream this one up — the microwave in primitive form (read: enormous and expensive) had existed since the 1940s. But in the Monsanto kitchen, the microwave was compact and practical, much as you'll find it today.
Out in the living room, visitors to the future were agog at the large, wall-mounted television (non-operational, alas) that we now take for granted. Remember, this was at a time when color TV was in its infancy and most of us watched black-and-whites where you concluded an evening's entertainment (Jack Paar, anyone?) by turning the set off and watching the little white dot in the middle of the screen slowly fade to black
The future lasted all of 10 years in the Magic Kingdom. The house was removed in 1967 to make way for another Tomorrowland attraction. Actually, "removed" is a bit of an understatement. The House of the Future proved a tough nut, so tough in fact that the demolition crew failed to knock it down with a wrecking ball. Instead, hacksaws and torches were needed to dismantle the structure, piece by piece, in a process that took two weeks.
You look at the stuff they're slapping up these days and wonder if maybe the architects should go back and have a look at Monsanto's blueprints.
Source: Various
Photo: *Corbis
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See Also:
- March 27, 1933: Just One Word ... Plastics
- June 12, 1897: The Swiss Army Gets Its Own Knife
- June 12, 1997: Trying to Stay One Jump Ahead of the Counterfeiters
- Jan. 3, 1957: Debut of the Electric Watch, a Space Age Marvel
- Feb. 10, 1957: Birth of the Cool...er
- Sept. 4, 1957: Short, Unhappy Life of the Edsel
- Oct. 1, 1957: Thalidomide Cures Morning Sickness, But ...
- Oct. 4, 1957: Russ Puts Man-Made Moon in Orbit!
- Dec. 2, 1957: Nuclear Power Goes Online
