Life in the Midst of Superlatives: Exhibitions in Postwar Rotterdam and Hamburg, 1946-1973

by Ruud Huyskamp

A thesis submitted in conformity with the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy Department of History University of Toronto

© Copyright by Ruud Huyskamp 2017

Life in the Midst of Superlatives: Exhibitions in Postwar Rotterdam and Hamburg, 1946-1973

Ruud Huyskamp Doctor of Philosophy Department of History University of Toronto 2017

Abstract: Between 1946 and 1973 political authorities in the cities of Rotterdam and Hamburg, often in partnership with local business communities, organized and hosted no less than seven major national or international exhibitions, as well as a significant number of smaller events, activities, and expositions. This dissertation explores the context, purpose, and cultural significance of these exhibitions in order to reveal insight into the postwar period. In addition to encouraging tourism and increasing trade, the exhibitions promoted the host city’s recovery. Specifically, they highlighted progress that had been made since 1945 and casted a favourable light on the business and political elites under whose auspices these successes had been achieved.

This dissertation contributes to our understanding of postwar development and reconstruction in western Europe. I argue that the exhibitions provided a framework through which the material and immaterial aspects of postwar recovery were presented to the outside world. They were the stage upon which the process of recovery was performed and imbued with meaning. An investigation of these exhibitions in two cities and over a period of thirty years shows that postwar understandings of “recovery” were not static, but instead shifted and were interpreted differently at different times. In the early 1950s, exhibitions highlighted collective overcoming and investment in large public infrastructure projects as the main aspects of recovery and as the foundation of future prosperity. By the mid- to late 1950s and into the 1960s, prosperity had arrived in both

Hamburg and Rotterdam, and exhibitions stressed private prosperity and individual consumption

ii

as the key aspects of postwar rebuilding. After the mid-1960s this changed. Exhibitions in

Rotterdam and Hamburg, rather than focusing on radical renewal or economic growth, began to pay more attention to lived experience and quality of life. When looked at over an extended period of time, the exhibitions demonstrate that the “postwar period” was neither static nor monolithic, but instead was fraught with tension, highly locally specific, and full with competing ideas of what was desirable.

iii

Acknowledgements:

While the process of researching and writing history can be very solitary, this project would not exist without the help and support of the many people I met along this decade-long journey in post-secondary education. First, I would like to thank my supervisor, Jennifer L. Jenkins. It is difficult to overstate my gratitude for her enthusiasm and support throughout this project. She was always ready to discuss ideas, read drafts, or offer encouragement. She pushed me to think more critically, write more clearly, and argue more thoroughly, and her efforts have improved this project immeasurably. It is hard to imagine a better supervisor and I would have been lost without her support, guidance, and mentorship. I am also indebted to Robert Lewis and Steve Penfold for always encouraging me to think more critically about my topic, my assumptions, and my arguments and for exposing me to a whole new world of scholarship. Their varying expertise made for a tremendously enriching experience and I am grateful they were willing to join the committee. I would also like to thank Helmut Puff and Sean Mills for agreeing to join the committee in its final stages and for giving me wonderful feedback and suggestions that will help move this project forward. I would also like to thank James Hull and Maurice Williams for sparking my love for history when I was an undergraduate student at the University of British Columbia Okanagan. Their mentorship, encouragement, and insistence that I pursue graduate studies have led me here. Generous financial support from the University of Toronto Department of History, the University of Toronto School of Graduate Studies, the Joint Initiative in German and European Studies, and the Germany and Europe Fund allowed me to conduct the research necessary for the completion of this project. The staff, archivists, and librarians at the various institutions I visited were exceptionally helpful and accommodating. I’d like to especially thank Christoph Stupp at the Forschungsstelle für Zeitgeschichte in Hamburg for his support during my time in Hamburg. I would also like to thank my aunt and uncle, Heydi and Paul van der Leek for generously hosting me while I was in the Netherlands to conduct research. Finally, I would be remiss not to thank the staff at the Interlibrary Loan Office at Robarts Library at the University of Toronto for the countless interlibrary loans this project required.

iv

I owe a profound debt to my friends and colleagues at the University of Toronto, who variously helped me by offering encouragement, edits, suggestions, feedback, or just a listening ear. Caroline Cormier, Susie Colbourn, Sarah Keeshan, Benji Lukas, and Nisrine Rahal, I would have been lost without all of you. Jacqueline Kirkham and Tim Mueller also deserve a special mention. Jaqui, for reading countless draft, particularly in the early stages when we were both figuring out how best to approach our topics. Our dissertation “pow-wows” were among the highlights of my grad school experience and I thank you for your friendship, support, and encouragement. Tim Müller, for his friendship, unwavering faith that I could do this, and for showing me the exciting professional opportunities that exist outside of academia. A final thank-you to Mathew Kirkpatrick, my best friend and partner, who has stood by my side through the ups and down of graduate school, always ready to help and encourage when I needed it most. Also a shout-out also to Lars, our cat, for keeping me company throughout the process of researching and writing this project. Finally, to my sister, Hannah, and my parents, Herman and Irene, thank you for being there for me and for always believing I could do this. Words fail me (which as you know does not happen to me very often) when I try to explain how much your love and support means to me. It is thanks to you, and your years of support and hard work, that I am here today. For that I am immensely grateful, and it is to you that I dedicate this project.

v Table of Contents:

Abstract: ...... ii

Acknowledgements: ...... iv

Table of Contents: ...... vi

Abbreviations: ...... vii

Introduction: Performing the Postwar ...... 1

Chapter 1: The Promised Land: Visions of Recovery in the Early Postwar Period ...... 35

Chapter 2: Manifestations of a New World: Public Prosperity in Hamburg and Rotterdam ...... 91

Chapter 3: Banishing Cinderella: Mass Prosperity and “Productive” Home Life ...... 140

Chapter 4: Garden of Men and Machines: The Golden Present of the Early 1960s ...... 182

Chapter 5: The End of the Postwar Era: Reinterpreting Recovery ...... 226

Conclusion: Life in the Midst of Superlatives ...... 267

Bibliography: ...... 275 Abbreviations:

BR Bibliotheek Rotterdam FZH Forschungstelle für Zeitgeschichte in Hamburg GAR Stadsarchief Rotterdam (formely: Gemeente Archief Rotterdam) NA-NL Nationaal Archief Nederland (The Hague) NA-UK National Archives United Kingdom (Kew) Stabi Staats- und Universitätsbibliothek Hamburg, Carl von Ossietzsky StaHH Staatsarchiv Hamburg

AIPH Association Internationale des Producteurs de l’Horticulture (Internationale Association of Horticultural Producers) ARP Anti-Revolutionaire Partij (Anti-Revolutionary Party) ASRO Adviesbureau Stadsplan Rotterdam (City Plan Rotterdam Advisory Bureau) BIE Bureau of International Expositions CDU Christlich Demokratische Union (Christian Democratic Union) CIAM Congrès Internationaux d’Architecture Moderne (International Congresses of Modern Architecture) DB Deutsche Bahn (German National Railways) DIWERO Dienst Wederopbouw Rotterdam (Service Reconstruction Rotterdam) ECSC European Coal and Steel Community EEC European Economic Community FDP Freie Demokratische Partei (Free Democratic Party) FO Foreign Office FRG Federal Republic of Germany GTD Gemeentelijke Technische Dienst (Municipal Technical Service) HHA Hamburger Hochbahn AG (Hamburg Public Transit Commission) IGA Internationale Gartenbauausstellung (International Horticultural Exhibition) ITAL Instituut voor de Toepassing van Atoomenergie in de Landbouw (Institute for the Application of Atomic Engery in Agriculture) KAVB Koninklijke Algemeene Vereeniging voor Bloembollencultuur (Royal General Association for Flower Bulb Culture) NATO North Atlantic Treaty Organization NHH Nederlandsche Huishoudraad (Dutch Household Board) NIPO Nederlands Instituut voor Publieke Opinie (Netherlands Institute for Public Opinion)

NS Nederlandse Spoorwegen (Dutch National Railways) OPRO Commissie Opbouw Rotterdam, (Rotterdam Reconstruction Commission) PoW Prisoner of War PPR Politieke Partij Radicalen (Political Party of Radicals) PvdA Partij van de Arbeid (Dutch Labour Party) SHAPE Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe SPD Sozialdemokratische Partei Deutschlands (Social Democratic Party of Germany) VVD Volkspartij voor Vrijheid en Democratie (People’s Party of Freedom and Democracy) ZEL Zentralamt für Ernährung und Landwirtschaft in der britischen Zone (Central Office for Food and Agriculture in the British Zone) ZVG Zentralverband Gartenbau; formerly, Zentralverbandes des Deutschen Gemüse-, Obst-, und Gartenbaues (Central Association of Horticulture; formerly, Central Association of German Vegetables, Fruit, and Horticulture)

Exhibitions Timeline:

Year: Exhibition: Location:

1947 Rotterdam Soon Rotterdam 1947 Our Daily Bread Hamburg 1947 Rubble Removal and Recycling Hamburg 1948 Hamburg at Work Hamburg 1949 The City on the Meuse in Scaffolding Rotterdam 1950 A City Rises Again Rotterdam 1950 Ahoy’ Rotterdam 1953 IGA’53 Hamburg 1955 E55 Rotterdam 1955 You and Your World Hamburg 1956-1962 Hamburg Model City Hamburg 1960 Floriade Rotterdam 1963 IGA’63 Hamburg 1965 Rotterdam, City in Motion Rotterdam 1966 Hamburg Builds Hamburg 1970 C70 Rotterdam 1973 IGA’73 Hamburg

viii

A Note on Spelling: Regarding the spelling of the names of German and Dutch cities, I use the English-language variant wherever possible. This means I use The Hague instead of Den Haag, and Munich instead of München, for example.

A Note on Translations: All translations from Dutch to English and from German to English, unless otherwise noted, are my own.

ix Introduction 1

Introduction: Performing the Postwar

Between 1946 and 1973, political authorities in Rotterdam and Hamburg, often in partnership with local business elites, organized no less than seven major international exhibitions, as well as a great number of smaller events. In addition to their usefulness in promoting tourist activity and increasing trade, the exhibitions framed discussions surrounding each city’s postwar recovery. They highlighted the social-economic progress that had been made since 1945 and cast a favourable light on the business and political elites under whose auspices these successes had been achieved. As such, these exhibitions were important sites for the symbolic construction and performance of a new postwar identity. Organized regularly over a period of thirty years, the exhibitions were a framework through which material and immaterial aspects of postwar recovery were presented to the outside world as well as a place where local citizens could reflect on postwar progress.

This dissertation is about the context, purpose, and cultural meaning of these postwar exhibitions. It asserts that the exhibitions were active performances of postwar national recovery, imbuing that process with purpose. They were specifically designed to create public consent for particular projects of postwar rebuilding and modernization, and to generate political support for the business- and government- elites under whose leadership it was unfolding. This was precisely the reason why municipal and business leaders were willing to pour funds into these events so shortly after the massive destruction of the Second World War and at a time when resources remained exceptionally tight. As historian Robert Rydell notes with reference to the period after

World War I: “traditional promoters of industrial expositions, including government officials, industrial leaders, and leading intellectuals… turned to the world’s fair medium for buttressing

Introduction 2 their own authority, and for giving ordinary citizens direction through the turbulent seas of the postwar period.”1 The story was similar after World War II. Organized at a time when Rotterdam and Hamburg rose from the ashes and within a decade became more prosperous than ever before, the exhibitions gave shape and meaning to an age of profound and rapid transformation.

Cultural historian Neil Harris argues that exhibitions have always “been a mixture of many things: they have simultaneously been a repository for high idealism, money-making, critical evaluation of the world, and message-sending. …They were moments of high culture and of crass advertising.”2 The festivals in Rotterdam and Hamburg were no different. They were partly capitalist spectacles, where the host city immediately benefited from increased tourism, ticket sales, alcohol consumption, and other concessions. With their emphasis on narratives of collective overcoming and the effective use of scale, glass, colour, and light, the exhibitions also served to impress and entertain visitors and give a morale boost to the local population after the ravages of the Second World War. These demonstrations of postwar recovery gave visitors the impression that everyone was working towards the same goal, turning a divided civil society into a nationalized citizenry sharing in the accomplishments of the postwar world. The narrative of harmony espoused by the exhibitions actively papered over the political, social, and cultural tensions of the postwar period. The exhibitions, as Keith Walden emphasizes, were “not innocent entertainments, but ideological weapons to impress particular world views.”3 The bright lights, dazzle, and shine were all part of an artificial and curated environment specifically designed so visitors, both foreign and local, would understand the postwar recovery of the host city and country

1 Robert W. Rydell, World of Fairs: The Century-of-Progress Expositions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993), 5. 2 Neil Harris, Cultural Excursions: Marketing Appetites and Cultural Tastes in Modern America (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1990), 113-114. 3 Keith Walden, Becoming Modern in Toronto: The Industrial Exhibition and the Shaping of Late-Victorian Culture (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1997), xii-xiii.

Introduction 3 from a specific perspective. The beauty, possibility, and promise of the postwar world forecasted by the exhibition was a conditional construct created by the exhibition’s organizers.4 It was quite literally a performance of postwar recovery with the intent of communicating a specific vision of what the postwar world would be like, or, in later years, an interpretation of what it already was.

The organizers wished to impress on international audiences the great economic capabilities and potential of the host city, with the intent of forging new business connections and boosting trade.5

To the local population, the organizers sought to explain and justify the choices they had made regarding the course of the city’s reconstruction and to legitimize their own leadership.

Control over what the exhibitions looked like, how they were framed, what was highlighted and what was hidden, lay exclusively in the hands of their organizational committees. With only very minor exceptions, the exhibitions in both Rotterdam and Hamburg were organized by delegates elected or appointed from the host city’s municipal bureaucracy as well as independent bodies that specialized in manufacturing, horticulture, commerce, or other areas. They were often accompanied by delegates from large industrial and commercial conglomerates with significant economic ties to the host city. The exhibitions were part of a larger effort through which these groups promoted their vision of the postwar world, as well as their desire to create economic, social, and political consensus in postwar recovery. In the service of national revival, these groups promoted annual fairs and public holidays, gave lectures and workshops, and sponsored the writing and publication of books and magazines that supported their ideas.6 The organizational committees

4 Robert W. Rydell, World of Fairs: The Century-of-Progress Expositions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993), 10. 5 For more on the use of large public events as a way to promote cities, see: Ward Rennen, CityEvents: Selling Places in a Media Age (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007); G.J. Ashworth and H. Voogd, Selling the City: Marking Approaches in Public Sector Urban Planning (New York: Bellhaven Press, 1990); John R. Gold and Stephen V. Ward, Place Promotion: the Use of Publicity and Marketing to Sell Towns and Regions (New York: Wiley, 1994); Stephen V. Ward, Selling Places: The Marking and Promotion of Towns and Cities, 1850-2000 (London: E & F.N. Spon, 1998). 6 See for example, a series of books published under the title How we are Building Rotterdam (Hoe Bouwen Wij Rotterdam), of which the first two volumes are: J. Backx, De Opbouw van Rotterdam, Rotterdam Series Hoe Bouwen Wij Rotterdam, #1 (Rotterdam: Rotterdamse Gemeenschap, 1945); Herman Kraaijvanger, Hoe Zal Rotterdam

Introduction 4 showed remarkable longevity; in both Rotterdam and Hamburg, fairs from the end of the Second

World War until the middle of the 1960s were, with only slight modifications, organized and directed by the same groups of men. These men –and they were indeed almost exclusively men – were technocrats, well educated, and with backgrounds in politics or business.7 Many had organized large exhibitions or sporting events in the prewar years.

This dissertation argues that exhibitions were a powerful medium by which organizers could buttress their own authority and deflect criticism about their past or present actions. This was important, as the Second World War had eroded the legitimacy of politicians as well as business elites, both of whom had collaborated –either willingly or forcibly– with the Nazis.8 By war’s end, Europe had lost two generations of potential leaders, and a great number more were implicated by their association with National Socialism.9 US General Lucius Clay, working in

Germany in 1945, summed it up perfectly: “our major administrative problem was to find reasonably competent Germans who had not been affiliated or associated in some way with the

Nazi regime.”10 This problem was not limited to Germany alone. In the Netherlands, as with most

Western European countries occupied by Nazi Germany, only the top national, provincial, and municipal government positions had actually been filled by German (or Austrian) Nazi officials.

This left in place many upper- and mid- level bureaucrats for the duration of the war, provided they did not make too much trouble. This meant that by war’s end, most capable politicians had, at least to some extent, worked with the Nazis during the war.11 The story was much the same for

Bouwen, Rotterdam Series Hoe Bouwen Wij Rotterdam, #2 (Rotterdam: Rotterdamse Gemeenschap, 1945). These were created to promote Rotterdam’s reconstruction, inspire hope to a population living amongst the ravages of war, and ensure audiences that the elites in charge of the city were actively working towards rebuilding. 7 There are a few exceptions. Johanna Meihuizen-ter Braake, director of the Dutch Household Board (Nederlandsche Huishoudraad) was involved in the creation and promotion of the Building and Living Exhibit at E55. Hamburg Senator Emilie Kiep-Altenloh (FDP) was a member of the Senate Commission for IGA’63. 8 Tony Judt, Postwar: A History of Europe Since 1945 (New York: Penguin Books, 2005), 35. 9 Ibid., x81. 10 Ibid., 56. 11 In West Germany, the issue was not so much “collaboration” as it was Nazi membership or responsibility for Nazi crimes. The most well-known examples at the national level are of course Heinrich Lübke, President of the Federal

Introduction 5 businesses, as large companies in both the Netherlands and Germany cooperated with the Nazis to varying degrees. The men in charge of these companies, moreover, often escaped denazification efforts and continued in their functions well into the postwar period.12

Republic from 1959 to 1969, and Kurt Georg Kiesinger, Chancellor of West Germany from 1966 to 1969, both of whom were members of the NSDAP. The issue of collaboration was of greater concern in the Netherlands where, as Werner Rings points out, collaboration came in many forms: from “tactical collaboration” (I collaborate for the ultimate purpose of resistance) all the way to “unconditional collaboration.” In between were “neutral collaboration” (conformity) and “conditional collaboration” (collaboration up to a point). See: Werner Rings, Life with the Enemy: Collaboration and Resistance in Hitler’s Europe 1939-1945, trans. J. Maxwell Brownjohn (Garden City: Doubleday & Company, 1982), pgs. 61-62, 69-70, 73-75, 80-81, 95-96 107-108, 134. After the invasion in May 1940, undersecretaries continued to run national government ministries and departments after the cabinet ministers went into exile in London. Many of them continued to serve in these roles until the end of the war, often under the guise of tactical collaboration or neutral collaboration. Many other Dutch citizens, including government employees at all levels, became members of the “Nederlandsche Unie”, a movement that pledged conditional collaboration with the Germans in the name of national unity and stability. The Unie boasted almost 800,000 members (out of a population of roughly 10 million) by February 1941 (Hirschfeld, 72). The group was even endorsed by Hendrik Colijn, the Prime Minister of the Netherlands from 1933-1939, who saw in the Unie the best way to safeguard Dutch interests on a continent where Germany appeared to be the hegemonic power. (See Rings, 107-108). The Unie also included several prominent postwar politicians, including Jan de Quay (Minister of War (1945) and Prime-Minister (1959-1963)); Hans Linthorst Homan, (Ministry of Economics, participated on behalf of the Netherlands in the negotiations for the Treaty of Rome (1957) and served as representative for the Netherlands at the European Economic Committee (EEC) and European Atomic Energy Community (Euratom)), and Louis Einthoven (former Rotterdam Chief of Police (1933-1940) and the head of the Dutch Secret Service (Binnenlandse Veiligheidsdienst, BVD) from 1946-1961)). Historian Louis de Jong is quite suspicious of the intentions of the Nederlandsche Unie and calls them collaborators pur sang. See: Louis de Jong, Het Koninkrijk der Nederlanden in de Tweede Wereldoorlog, Deel 4, Tweede Helft, Mei’40-Maart’41 (Den Haag: Staatsuitgeverij, 1972); and: Louis de Jong, Het Koninkrijk der Nederlanden in de Tweede Wereldoorlog, Deel 5, Eerste Helft, Maart’41-Juli’42 (Den Haag: Staatsuitgeverij, 1974). For more, on collaboration in the Netherlands broadly conceived, see: Robin de Bruin, “Het Nieuwe Europa. Hans Linthorst Homan, lid van de Hoge Autoriteit (1962-1967),” in De Nederlandse Eurocommissarissen, ed. Gerrit Voerman et. al. (Amsterdam: Boom, 2010), 65-92; Louis Einthoven, Heeft de afwezige ongelijk? Geteuigenis van Mr. L. Einthoven over de Nederlandsche Unie (Apeldoorn: Semper Agendo, 1973); Louis Einthoven, Tegen de Stroom in; levende vissen zwemmen tegen de stroom in, alleen de dooie drijven mee (Apeldoorn: Semper Agendo, 1974); Jennifer L. Foray, Visions of Empire in the Nazi-Occupied Netherlands (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012); Wichert ten Have, De Nederlandse Unie. Aanpassing, vernieuwing en confrontatie in bezettingstijd, 1940-1941 (Amsterdam: Prometheus, 1999); Gerhard Hirschfeld, Nazi Rule and Dutch Collaboration: the Netherlands under German Occupation, 1940-1945 (Oxford: Berg, 1988); Louis de Jong, Het Koninkrijk der Nederlanden in de Tweede Wereldoorlog, 14. vols. (The Hague: Staatsuitgeverij, 1969-1991); Auke Kok, De Verrader. Leven en dood van Anton van der Waals (Amsterdam: De Arbeiderspers, 1995); Werner Rings, Life with the Enemy: Collaboration and Resistance in Hitler’s Europe 1939-1945, trans. J. Maxwell Brownjohn (Garden City: Doubleday & Company, 1982); Ismee Tames, “Ashamed about the Past: The Case of Nazi Collaborators and Their Families in Post-War Dutch Society,” in Reverberations of Nazi Violence in Germany and Beyond: Disturbing Pasts, ed. Stephanie Bird, Mary Fulbrook, Julia Wagner, Christiane Wienand (London: Bloomsbury, 2016), pgs. 47-64; Nico Wouters, Mayoral Collaboration under Nazi Occupation in Belgium, the Netherlands, and France, 1938-46 (New York: Palgrave-Macmillan, 2016). 12 In the Netherlands, almost no changes were made in terms of personnel or production upon German invasion. As Werner Rings points out: “Until Stalingrad… Dutch factories worked almost uninterruptedly for the German war machine and Dutch administrators made no attempt to impede large-scale exports of raw materials and foodstuff to Germany” (p. 69.) In relation to the exhibitions, the most prominent business figure with a questionable war time past is K.P. van de Mandele, who, as head of the Rotterdam Chamber of Commerce (1938-1960) was involved with the organization of Ahoy’ (1950), E55 (1955), and Floriade (1960). He was a member of the National Committee for Economic Cooperation (Nationaal Comité voor Economische Samenwerking), which sought to smooth economic relations between the Netherlands and Nazi Germany, and the Waltersom Commission (Commissie Waltersom) which

Introduction 6

By giving public support to the exhibitions, and by investing time and resources into them, municipal elites could shed a positive light on their activities, both present and past. For the politicians, whose own fortunes were intimately intertwined with the material success of the city, the demonstrations of the beauty and promise of the postwar world served as proof of the city’s success under their leadership and bolstered public confidence. Not only did the city come off looking good, they did too. For large companies and industrial conglomerates, the exhibitions offered similar benefits. Large companies with compromised wartime histories, such as Krupp,

Blohm+Voß, Philips, and Royal Dutch Shell, all actively participated in postwar exhibitions.13

They sponsored the festivals’ overall organization, covering basic operating costs; they also often contributed individual pavilions that highlighted their company’s positive role in the postwar world. The pavilions often stressed the technological and scientific prowess of the companies, showing their contributions to a postwar world of advancement and associating them with its material abundance. They also highlighted the companies’ humanitarian work or environmental stewardship, further legitimizing their claims to civic leadership.

The projections of progress and prosperity thus confirmed the legitimacy of the ruling classes, despite evidence of wartime collaboration, and naturalized the choices that those elites had made about the shape of the postwar world: which aspects of the past would be recovered and celebrated and which aspects would be changed. This project thus conceives of exhibitions as stages upon which a very specific interpretation of postwar recovery was performed. The

organized businesses and employment within the country so as to serve Nazi labour requirements. He is discussed in greater detail in Chapter One. See also: Louis de Jong, Het Koninkrijk der Nederlanden in de Tweede Wereldoorlog, Deel 4, Eerste Helft, Mei’40-Maart’41 (Den Haag: Staatsuitgeverij, 1972), 385-6; Gerardus C. J. Kuys, De Vrees voor wat Niet Kwam: Nieuwe arbeidsverhoudingen in Nederland 1935-1945, aan het voorbeeld van de Twentste textielindustrie (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2010), 463; A.J. Teychiné, Beeld en Beeldenaar: Rotterdam en Mr. K.P. van der Mandele (Rotterdam: A.D. Donker, 1979), 128-135. For an excellent study on this issue and its postwar reverberations in the West German case, see S. Jonathan Wiesen, West German Industry and the Challenge of the Nazi Past, 1945-1955 (Chapel Hill: North Carolina University Press, 2001). 13 And it was by no means limited to these companies. As subsequent chapters will show, many other companies, including those in the fields of banking, agriculture, food, metallurgy, shipping, fossil fuels, chemistry, and mining were also involved in various capacities with the financing or organization of exhibitions or associated events.

Introduction 7 exhibitions promoted the city with the aim of boosting trade, presented physical reconstruction projects with the desire of gaining public support, and cast the activities of business and political elites in a way that reinforced their authority. As such, the exhibitions were structures of legitimation: they legitimated the postwar city; they legitimated its ruling elites, and they legitimated particular postwar civic narratives and identities.

When I speak of exhibitions as tools of legitimation, I employ Weberian ideas of

“legitimacy.” For Max Weber, legitimacy for the ruling elites only existed when people had faith in them and their rule. This meant that, as Robert Grafstein has pointed out, for Weber “legitimacy no longer represent[ed] an evaluation of a political regime; indeed, it no longer refer[red] directly to the regime itself. Rather, [legitimacy was] defined as the belief of citizens that the regime [was], to speak in circles, legitimate.”14 In the context of the postwar exhibitions, then, the ruling elites re-established their legitimacy by presenting postwar recovery within a framework highlighting collective prosperity and success, and presented themselves, either implicitly or explicitly, as the providers of these successes. This was the case in both Rotterdam and Hamburg. Whereas for

Weber, legitimacy always derived from a combination of three categories –traditional, legal, and charismatic– for the postwar elites in both Rotterdam and Hamburg, legitimacy was based on the provision of abstract values such as newness, rationality, science, efficiency, and prosperity.15 The exhibitions, in this light, served to create the belief that the elites in both cities delivered exactly these things to the largest number of people.

This dissertation is also heavily indebted to the work of Tony Bennett, especially his article

“The Exhibitionary Complex,” and his subsequent monograph, The Birth of the Museum.

14 Grafstein himself does not agree with Weber’s specific interpretation of legitimacy. Robert Grafstein, “The Failure of Weber’s Conception of Legitimacy: Its Causes and Implications,” The Journal of Politics, Vol. 43, No. 2 (May, 1981), pgs. 456-472, here pg. 456. 15 Max Weber, The Theory of Social and Economic Organization (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1978), specifically Volume One, Chapter Three, “The Types of Legitimate Domination,” 212-301.

Introduction 8

Together, these works explore the cultural and political foundations of what Bennett calls the

“exhibitionary complex”: the civic institutions (museums, exhibitions, fairs, and even department stores) designed to create public consent and “[win the] hearts and minds…” of their visitors.16

Bennett’s work views the exhibition as a complex that encompassed the tools by which elites manufactured consent as well as the arena in which that consent was performed.17 Bennett’s exhibitionary complex highlighted that exhibitions were a permanent display of power/knowledge through their ability to either present certain things or to keep them out of view. In the context of postwar exhibitions this meant, as one sees in this study, that the elites in charge of organizing them presented postwar recovery in a way that served their own interests. The good of the companies, in other words, was presented as being the same as, or at least compatible with, the general good. While national recovery had winners and losers, the exhibitions were designed to make it seem as though everyone was a winner or would be in the future. The “winning of hearts and minds” meant securing support for the project of postwar recovery at large, including the physical rebuilding of the two cities, investments in healthcare and infrastructure, and the furthering of market-activity and scientific research. Accordingly, elaborate pavilions and exhibits about improvements to health, sanitation, welfare, and economic infrastructure aimed to highlight how these shows served the general good. In a very real sense, one can view the exhibitions as a

Foucaultian panopticon where the people were instructed to support a particular project of reconstruction and recovery and, by extension, the leadership of the city’s elites.18

16 Tony Bennett, “The Exhibitionary Complex,” New Formations 4 (Spring 1998): pgs. 73-102, here pg. 76. 17 This meant that Bennett’s exhibitionary complex functioned, on the one hand, like Michael Foucault’s prison in that it was an arena that instructed the social body through mutual surveillance. Bennett cites, for example, the 1851 Crystal Palace Exhibition in London’s Hyde Park, which arranged the “relations between the public and the exhibits so that, while everyone could see, there were also vantage points from which everyone could be seen, thus combining the functions of spectacle and surveillance.” Tony Bennett, “The Exhibitionary Complex,” New Formations 4 (Spring 1998): pgs. 73-102, here pg. 78. 18 I use the term “cities’ elites,” here because, at least in terms of intent, there was no distinction between elites in Rotterdam and Hamburg. As I argue, both sought to re-assert their own authority and legitimacy after the war. While the specific way of obtaining this legitimacy varied (and depended on local context, history, and circumstance), the intent was nevertheless the same.

Introduction 9

Postwar Modernity:

The exhibitions promoted a particular understanding of postwar modernity in each city.

The term modernity is one of the most highly used – and highly disputed– concepts in academia, and I should clarify that this dissertation conceives of modernity neither as a fixed chronological term nor an indicator of a particular cultural situation. Instead, modernity as a way by which people

(elites and citizens alike) conceived of themselves and their societies as “modern.” It was thus highly temporally and geographically contextual, and was at once an experience, and aspiration, an aesthetic, a method of work, as well as an urban, industrial, and commercial form.19 These understandings of modernity were fractured and in constant tension.20 In fact, as this dissertation will argue, the exhibitions promoted a particular elite vision of postwar modernity in each city. As conditions changed, understandings of modernity and what it meant to be modern shifted, and this dissertation will in part chronicle the shift from one particular understanding of modernity to another.

19 For a selected scholarship on modernity as one or several of these categories, see: Julia Adams, Elisabeth S. Clements, and Ann Shola, eds., Remaking Modernity: Politics, History, and Sociology (Durham: Duke University Press, 2005); Marshall Berman, All that is Solid Melts into Air: The Experience of Modernity (New York: Penguin, 1988); Gerard Delanty, Formations of European Modernity: A Historical and Political Sociology of Europe (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013); Geoff Eley, Jennifer L. Jenkins, and Tracie Matysik, German Modernities: From Wilhelm to Weimar (London: Bloomsbury, 2016); Carol Symes, “When We Talk About Modernity,” The American Historical Review Vol. 116, 3 (2011), 715-726; Dean C. Tipps, “Modernization Theory and the Comparative Study of Societies: A Critical Perspective,” Comparative Studies in Society and History Vol. 15, 2 (1973), 199-226. 20 Marshall Berman uses the term “opposed forms of modernism” to describe the tension between different, contemporaneous understandings of modernity (See: Marshall Berman, All that is Solid Melts into Air: The Experience of Modernity (New York: Penguin, 1988), pgs. 312-348). I prefer the use of the term “opposed forms of modernities” over the term “multiple modernities.” The latter is often used to refer to non-Western forms of modernity, while I use the term “opposed modernity” to describe a tension within Western forms of modernity. For a selected scholarship on multiple modernities, see: Arjun Appadurai, Modernity at Large: Cultural Dimensions of Globalization (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1996); Dipesh Chakrabarty, Provincializing Europe: Postcolonial Thought of Western Culture and Civilization (Oxford: Blackwell, 1998); Stuart Hall, David Held, Don Hubert, and Kenneth Thompson, eds., Modernity: An Introduction to Modern Societies (Oxford: Blackwell, 1996).

Introduction 10

Historical Context:

In both cities the exhibitions were organized in the aftermath of the Second World War, a conflict that had not only reduced Europe’s cities to piles of rubble and delegitimized its ruling elites, but had also torn apart civil society and turned national histories toxic. The exhibitions were in part a way to make sense of these traumatic memories, but also to shape them into more agreeable narratives. In each city, the exhibitions could (and did) present a specific interpretation of the past that either erased the memories of recent years or downplayed some of their darkest aspects, highlighting instead narratives of national history that were comforting or more conducive to peaceful and productive postwar social relations. By providing a highly selective reading of the past, the exhibitions rendered social problems and political divisions invisible.21 This reorganization of the past created a new collective “memory” and established a common frame of reference through which postwar recovery could be understood. Crucially, then, the construction of a particular version of history through the exhibitions shaped public discussions about the future.22

In the Netherlands, the memory of the Second World War was one of national trauma and humiliation. Germany invaded on May 10, 1940, and forced the Dutch to surrender in less than

21 For more on the challenge of memorialization, the legacy of the Second World War, and the search for “usable pasts” in postwar West Germany and beyond, see: Frank Biess, Homecomings: Returning POWs and the Legacies of Defeat in Postwar Germany (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2006); Frank Biess and Robert Moeller, eds., Histories of the Aftermath: The Legacies of the Second World War in Europe (New York: Berghahn, 2010); Christopher Browning, Remembering Survival: Inside a Nazi Slave-Labor Camp (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2010); Norbert Frei, Adenauer’s Germany and the Nazi Past: the Politics of Amnesty and Integration (New York: Columbia University Press, 2010); Jeffrey Herf, Divided Memory: The Nazi Past in the Two Germanys (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1997); Dagmar Herzog, Sex After Fascism: Memory and Morality in Twentieth-Century Germany (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2005); Wulf Kansteiner, In Pursuit of German Memory: History, Television, and Politics after Auschwitz (Athens: Ohio University Press, 2006); Pieter Lagrou, The Legacy of Nazi Occupation: Patriotic Memory and National Recovery in Western Europe, 1945-1965 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007); Robert G. Moeller, War Stories: The Search for a Usable Past in the Federal Republic of Germany (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2003); Klaus Neumann, Shifting Memories: The Nazi Past in the New Germany (Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 2000). 22 Tony Bennett, The Birth of the Museum: History, Theory, Politics (New York: Routledge, 1995), 7.

Introduction 11 five days.23 The feeling of humiliation was exacerbated by the fact that the invasion was the first violation of the country’s sovereignty since the Napoleonic Wars. The Nazi occupation, initially relatively mild and even friendly, became one of the most brutal and deadly by the end of the war.24

More than 100,000 Dutch Jews perished in the Holocaust, and a further 204,000 civilians died as a result of widespread German violence.25 A deadly famine in 1945, one of the few in history to occur in a modern, developed, and literate country, killed a further 18,000 to 22,000 people.26 The number of civilian deaths in the Netherlands at war’s end, then, far outnumbered those of its neighbours, such as Belgium, Denmark, or Norway.27 In contrast to other Western European nations like Belgium and France, the Dutch resistance against the Germans did not play a major

23 Paul Arblaster, A History of the Low-Countries (New York: Palgrave MacMillan, 2006), 221. 24 This was for a number of reasons. Initially the Germans wanted to preserve amicable relations because that would make occupation easier. The Dutch, meanwhile, were not completely against “neutral collaboration” (see footnotes 11 and 12 in this introduction). After Stalingrad, however, things changed. The Germans mobilized for total war and introduced forced labour. They clamped down on any form of resistance or non-cooperation and police raids, arrests, and violence became more and more common. Things intensified even further after September 1944 and the failure of Allied Operation Market Garden, which left the southern part of the country liberated and the northern part under occupation of an increasingly desperate Germany which wanted to hold the line at any cost. A ban on food imports into the western part of the country in the winter of 1944-1945 created famine conditions, causing the resistance to become increasingly daring in their missions to get food and other necessary supplies. For more, see: Walter B. Maass, The Netherlands at War: 1940-1945 (New York: Abelard-Schuman, 1970); Werner Rings, Life with the Enemy: Collaboration and Resistance in Hitler’s Europe 1939-1945, trans. J. Maxwell Brownjohn (Garden City: Doubleday & Company, 1982); Werner Warmbrunn, The Dutch under German Occupation (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1963). 25 Louis de Jong cites 107,000 Jewish deportees, of whom 5,200 survived. Louis de Jong, Het Koninkrijk der Nederlanden in de Tweede Wereld Oorlog, Vol 8., Part II: Gevangenen en Gedeporteerden (The Hague: Staatsuitgeverij, 1978), 673. As Diane L. Wolf points out, moreover, that “at more than 70 per cent, the Netherlands is the only Western European country whose rates of Jewish deportation and murder resemble those of an Eastern European country.” Beyond Anne Franke: Hidden Children and Postwar Families in Holland (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2007), 55. 26 Zena Stein, Famine and Human Development: The Dutch Hungerwinter of 1944-1945 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1975), 40; Henri Van Der Zee, The Hunger Winter: Occupied Holland 1944-5 (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1982), 304-305; David Barnouw, De Hongerwinter (Hilversum: Verloren, 1999); C. Banning, “Food Shortage and Public Health, First Half of 1945,” Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, Vol. 245 (The Netherlands during German Occupation), May 1946, pgs., 93-110, here pg. 99. Another important example of a famine in a developed country was the Great Famine in Greece from 1941-1944. See, Mark Mazower, Inside Hitler’s Greece: The Experience of Occupation, 1941-1944 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995), especially pgs. 23-52. 27 Belgium suffered roughly 10,000 civilian deaths; Luxembourg, 5259, Denmark, 1000; and Norway, approximately 5000. Chris Bishop, S.S. Hell on the Western Front: The Waffen S.S. In Europe 1940-1945 (St. Paul: Amber Books, 2003), 104-105. Bishop’s numbers do not include Jewish deaths. See also: David Stafford, Endgame, 1945: The Missing Final Chapter of World War II (New York: Little, Brown & Company, 2007), 258.

Introduction 12 part in postwar commemoration.28 Small and ideologically diverse, the Dutch resistance did not lay claim to the memory of the war as a single, unified group.29 Instead, memories of the war were collapsed into a grand narrative of heroic civilian overcoming, where a fundamentally “good” and

“heroic” nation, grossly violated by the Germans, had been able to persevere thanks to the resilience and superior moral character of its citizens.30 Any notion of division, collaboration,

Dutch culpability, or other disturbing details were quickly forgotten in favour of this new national history.31 The narrative of heroic overcoming was also applied to the postwar period where the relentless pursuit of a new, more efficient, more rational, and more modern world was seen as the ultimate way of overcoming and transcending a dark and divided past.

When in 1945, ten years of depression and five more years of war and occupation finally came to an end, the Dutch were eager to forget and move on.32 In subsequent years, the Dutch public became obsessed with what Kees Schuyt and Ed Taverne have called “purification fantasies.”33 In contrast with what Kristin Ross has observed about postwar France, the desire for purification in the Netherlands did not necessarily focus on “cleanliness.”34 Instead, the nation was to be purified through work and through its Protestant work ethic, to borrow another of Max

28 Pieter Lagrou, The Legacy of Nazi Occupation: Patriotic Memory and National Recovery in Western Europe, 1945- 1965 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 68. 29 This is in stark contrast with countries like France or Belgium. See: Sarah Farmer, Martyred Village: Commemorating the 1944 Massacre at Oradour-sur-Glane (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000); Richard J. Goslan, “The Legacy of World War II in France: Mapping the Discourses of Memory,” in The Politics of Memory in Postwar Europe, eds., Richard Ned Lebow, Wulf Kansteiner, and Claudio Fogu (Durham: Duke University Press, 2006), 73-101; Pieter Lagrou, The Legacy of Nazi Occupation: Patriotic Memory and National Recovery in Western Europe, 1945-1965 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007); Olivier Wieviorka, Divided Memory: French Recollections of World War II from the Liberation to the Present (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2012). 30 Rob van Ginkel, Op Zoek naar Eigenheid: Denkbeelden en Discussies over Cultuur en Identiteit in Nederland (The Hague: SDU Publishers, 1999), 241. 31 Kees Schuyt and Ed Taverne, Dutch Culture in a European Perspective, Vol. 4: 1950: Prosperity and Welfare (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004), 35. 32 Five years almost exactly: The Netherlands was invaded on May 10, 1940 and officially liberated on May 5, 1945. 33 Schuyt and Taverne, Dutch Culture in a European Perspective, 20. 34 Kristin Ross, Fast Cars, Clean Bodies: Decolonization and the Reordering of French Culture (Cambridge: Massachusetts Institute of Technology, 1996), 71-78.

Introduction 13

Weber’s phrases.35 Postwar Rotterdam, and indeed the postwar Netherlands as a whole, pursued a particular kind of modernity based on a deep belief in the principles of economic productivity, efficiency, and rationality. This was evident in the reconstruction of Rotterdam, which was designed with an eye to the most efficient and rational outcomes, rather than with a focus on livability. The pursuit of technological, industrial, commercial, and urban modernization not only increased productivity and efficiency, but it was a way to (quite literally) remove the past and purify the city, the country, and its body politic. As Schuyt and Taverne put it: “[t]he territory of the Netherlands – cities, countryside, and industrial networks – was violently attacked after the war, this time in the name of modernization, not by Germans, but by politicians, architects, and public opinion, all obsessed by the American idea of modernization.”36 Older ways of doing things were abandoned, and the old Netherlands, associated with memories of invasion, capitulation, and occupation, was consigned to history. The new country was to be purged, cleansed, and absolved of any responsibility: it was to become new, fresh, and innocent. 1945, then, would be “year zero.”37 The exhibitions in Rotterdam placed a consistent and explicit emphasis on this type of radical renewal and always sang the praises of Dutch postwar recovery by stressing how “modern,”

“progressive,” or “radically new” it was. Crucially, this never occurred in tandem with frank discussions of the country’s complicated past, such as collaboration with the Nazis or Dutch complicity in the fate of its Jewish population.

The city of Rotterdam, widely known in the Netherlands as “the city of work,” was the perfect location for postwar exhibitions that embodied the Dutch desire for reinvention and renewal. As will be explored in Chapter One, the city’s bombardment and subsequent fire,

35 Max Weber, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism (Mineola: Dover Publications, 2003) (First English edition published in 1930). 36 Schuyt and Taverne, Dutch Culture in a European Perspective, 21. 37 For more on this idea, see, for example: Ian Buruma, Year Zero: A History of 1945 (London: Atlantic Books, 2014).

Introduction 14 followed by the physical removal of rubble and the legal expropriation of downtown plots, had left in its wake a landscape physically purged of history and memory.38 With the exception of five individual buildings, the city’s downtown was devoid of any traces of the past. As such, the city had already undergone the purge and purification that the Dutch desired after the war, dovetailing the national narrative of purification with Rotterdam’s war-time history. Postwar rebuilding in the city, subsequently, unfolded according to highly modern urban design principles: separation of functions, plenty of space for the automobile, the relegation of people into the suburbs, and the reorganization of its downtown with sparsely designed high-rises separated by wide-open spaces.

It was an architectural expression of the national desire for rationality, efficiency, and above all, modernity.39 The four large exhibitions in Rotterdam that this dissertation explores –Ahoy’ (1950),

Energy’55 (Energie’55, or E55, in 1955), Floriade (1960), and Communication’70,

(Communicatie’70, or C70, in 1970)— chronicled this Dutch desire for renewal and the literal removal of the past. The events were national “manifestations” with celebratory themes and a confident language of achievement, productivity, renewal, and purification.

It goes without saying that the history of the Second World War also weighed heavily on postwar Germany and its citizens. After the instability of the late Weimar Republic and twelve years of the brutal National Socialist dictatorship, Germans were eager to forget about the recent past and move on with their lives as best they could in an occupied, divided country. The exhibitions organized in postwar Hamburg accommodated these desires, just like in Rotterdam.

However, unlike Rotterdam, the Hamburg exhibitions did not place an explicit emphasis on themes of renewal and rejuvenation nor did they tout a symbolic language of purging and purification. A linguistic emphasis on “rejuvenation” and “purification” would have been hopelessly tone-deaf in

38 Schuyt and Taverne, Dutch Culture in a European Perspective, 21. 39 Ibid., 35.

Introduction 15

West Germany, where the Nazis had used this exact language to talk about their exterminatory policies. Instead, the exhibitions in Hamburg professed loyalty to a new postwar world by emphasizing a quiet stability that focused on economic success: the city’s commercial pedigree and maritime history, West Germany’s postwar economic miracle (Wirtschaftswunder), and, as

Tony Judt put it, its people’s “devotion to efficiency, detail, and quality in the manufacture of finished products.”40 This new focus was a far cry from the hyperbolic and grandiloquent language of the Nazis and gave the city and country a purpose beyond the political.41 Indeed, as Erica Carter has argued, “the reconstruction of the Federal Republic as social market economy forged fundamentally new conceptions of German nationhood and national belonging.”42

A focus on the social market economy marked a departure from the hyper-nationalistic language of earlier years. It served a similar function to the Dutch emphasis on renewal and rejuvenation. The exhibitions in Hamburg were thus also tools for the cultural production of postwar West Germany, forging a symbolic conception of “the postwar nation” based on new values centred on the economy.43 A focus on economics allowed West Germany to rehabilitate its image both nationally and internationally. The exhibitions helped foster a positive image of West

Germany as an economic power first and foremost and, as the country gained international respect and acclaim for its economic successes, it was able to move away from direct associations with its

40 Tony Judt, Postwar: A History of Europe Since 1945 (New York: Penguin Books, 2005), 275. 41 This is related to Jürgen Habermas’ ideas on constitutional patriotism. Habermas has argued that legitimacy in the postwar period (and for him particularly in postwar West Germany) could not rest on politics or nationalism or symbology of the past. Instead, national identity had to be found by attachment to abstract values, such as the constitution or, indeed, the economy. For more on this, see the excellent work by Jan-Werner Müller, one of the foremost scholars on Habermas’ ideas on constitutional patriotism. Jan-Werner Müller, “A General History of Constitutional Patriotism,” International Journal of Law, 6 (2007), pgs. 72-95; Jan-Werner Müller and Kim Lane Scheppele, “Constitutional Patriotism: An Introduction,” International Journal of Constitutional Law 6 (2008), pgs. 67-71; Jan-Werner Müller, “Seven Ways to Misunderstand Constitutional Patriotism,” Notizie di Politeia 96 (2009), pgs. 20-24. 42 Erica Carter, How German Is She? Postwar West German Reconstruction and the Consuming Woman (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1997), 6. 43 The term “national identity” is obviously problematic in the German case, where the German “nation” was split between East and West Germany. Over the course of first postwar decades, however, as this dissertation will explore, West Germany developed a national identity that was quite distinct from its Eastern neighbour.

Introduction 16

Nazi past, even if they never fully disappeared.44 The economy as the fulcrum of West Germany’s national identity also allowed its citizens to paper over the political and personal tensions of the past and bury bad memories from the war. Questions about who they were or what they had done were suppressed by a relentless pursuit of material well-being and stability. This point is well made in Heinrich Böll’s 1954 satirical essay “Something Will Happen” (Es Wird Etwas Geschehen), which highlights the West German obsession with being busy for busyness’ sake. The relentless quest of producing and consuming became foundational to “West German-ness,” as what it meant to be German was reconceptualized in economic terms, with nationhood based on ideals of private prosperity and domestic consumption.45

Because of the particularities of Hamburg’s recent history, the type of exhibition hosted in the city was necessarily different from Rotterdam. The nationalist emphasis that the events in

Rotterdam had, or that were common for events like the 1951 Festival of Britain, was unsuitable for Hamburg, or for any other German city for that matter.46 The recent war and the country’s

National Socialist past ensured that exhibitions throughout West Germany in the postwar period were marked by an absence of overtly nationalist and/or political language and themes. To this end, Hamburg’s major postwar festivals were international horticultural exhibitions

44 See, for example, in Chapter Four, where German rearmament and changes to military command structures in NATO in the mid- and late- 1950s brought back memories of the war and revealed continuing hostility towards West Germany from its smaller neighbours, especially the Netherlands and Denmark. This indicates that the memories of the war were still very much at the forefront of national consciousness in those countries, even if West Germany had achieved international acclaim as an economic powerhouse by then. 45 Heinrich Böll, The Collected Stories, trans. Leila Vennewitz and Breon Mitchell (Brooklyn: Melville House, 2011). The story here is published as “Action will be taken.” Some examples of Böll’s satirical take on West German busyness: “Wunsiedel's secretary supported her paralyzed husband and four children by knitting, at the same time received a doctorate in psychology and German history, bred alsatians and became a famous night-club singer under the name Vamp Number Seven.” In another instance, he writes: “Broshek sat at his desk, in each hand a telephone, in his mouth a ballpoint pen with which he jotted memos on a notepad, and with his bare feet he operated a knitting machine that stood under the desk. In this way he contributed to rounding off his family's clothing.” See also, Heinrich Böll, “Hierzulande,” in Werke. Essayistische Schriften und Reden, Vol. 1, 1952-1963, ed. Bernd Balzer (Cologne: Kiepenheuer & Witsch, 1978), 366-375, where he highlights the impact prosperity had on West German character. 46 Even the Industrial exhibitions in West Berlin in 1951 and 1957 – a city loaded with symbolic meaning if there ever was one – stayed away from hyperbole and instead presented West German recovery in technocratic terms.

Introduction 17

(Internationale Gartenbau Ausstellungen, or IGA): IGA’53 (1953), IGA’63 (1963), and IGA’73

(1973). This type of event had a long history of being employed as a device for international relations, and they may be thought of, as Andrew Theokas put it, “a world’s fair but with a strong horticultural theme and presence.”47 These events were always showcases for participating countries, giving them a chance to demonstrate their commercial and industrial products to the world. 48 Rather than showing off its “newness” or recovery, Hamburg thus sought reintegration by projecting a friendly, modest, and open image to international audiences, something which a flower show could perhaps achieve more easily than any other theme.

Horticultural exhibitions made sense in Hamburg. The city’s status as West Germany’s pre-eminent port could be used to highlight West Germany’s trade acumen. While Rotterdam assumed a unique position in the postwar Netherlands as the city of reconstruction, Hamburg was not an automatic contender to be the symbolic city of West German postwar recovery. Its destruction, while horrific, was not exceptional, and there were many other cities that could claim to be the new face of West Germany.49 Bonn, the new capital of the Federal Republic, claimed to represent postwar West Germany through its modest stylistic and architectural approach and desire for international cooperation.50 Frankfurt could claim to be the new face of West Germany, for

47 Andrew C. Theokas, Grounds for Review: The Garden Festival in Urban Planning and Design (Liverpool: Liverpool university Press, 2004), 1. 48 Marja L. Roholl, “De fototentoonstelling Wij Mensen – The Family of Man in het Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam: een Amerikaans familiealbum als wapen in de koude oorlog,” in Het Beeld in de Spiegel: Historiografische Verkenningen, ed. Eco O.G. Haitsma Mulier and Piet Baas (Hilversum: Uitgeverij Verloren, 2000), pgs. 133-152, here pg. 149. 49 After Lübeck in March 1943, Hamburg was one of the first major German cities to experience aerial bombardment to a massive scale. It was not the to be the last. After Hamburg, the cities of Kassel, Hannover, Berlin, Frankfurt, Bremen, and Dresden, to name only some of the hardest-hit examples, were subjected to devastating bombing raids. Destruction was horrific. Jeffry Diefendorf’s study on reconstruction in West Germany after the Second World War points out that damage ranged widely: 89 per cent in Würzberg, 83 per cent in Bochum and Remscheid, 75 per cent in Wuppertal, 65 per cent in Dortmund, 54 per cent in Hamburg, 33 per cent in Munich and Stuttgart, and 22 per cent in West Berlin. See, Ralf Blank, et. al., Germany and the Second World War, Volume IX/I: German Wartime Society 1939-1945: Politicization, Disintegration, and the Struggle for Survival, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 72, 168; Jeffry Diefendorf, In the Wake of War: The Reconstruction of German Cities after the Second World War (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), 11, 14. 50 Deborah Asher Barnstone, The Transparent State: Architecture and Politics in Postwar Germany (New York: Routledge, 2005).

Introduction 18 reconstruction in that city was more “American” than anywhere else, except perhaps in Kassel.51

The other obvious contender was West Berlin, whose position on the front line of the Cold War made it “the staging ground for competing identities” and the arena in which the West German nation was most obviously performed.52 Hamburg, however, had much to recommend it. With

West Berlin’s ambiguous status, Hamburg was West Germany’s largest city and its most important port. It was well known as “Germany’s gateway to the world,” dovetailing nicely with West

Germany’s projected postwar status as an economic powerhouse.53

Despite their obvious differences, Rotterdam and Hamburg thus occupied similar roles in their respective countries. Both were so-called “second cities,” being right behind their respective capitals in terms of population and socio-cultural and economic importance.54 The cities were both ports with a strong maritime identity and international focus. Their status as ports, moreover, put both cities at the heart of their respective countries’ economies. Rotterdam was the largest harbour in the world between 1962 and 2004. Hamburg was the third largest port in Europe and counted much of Central and Eastern Europe as its trading basin. Politically, both cities identified as centres

51 See also, Barnstone, The Transparent State, especially pgs. 77-79. Barnstone points to the debates surrounding the choice of Bonn or Frankfurt as capitals for West Germany. 52 Emily Pugh, Architecture, Politics, and Identity in a Divided Berlin (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 2014), 5. 53 West Berlin fell under the authority of the Allied Control Council and was not officially or legally part of the Federal Republic, although the city’s administration aligned itself politically with West, rather than East, Germany. The designation “Germany’s gateway to the world” (Tor zur Welt) was a Wilheminian construct, designed to reflect Kaiser Wilhelm II’s bombastic desires for world domination and world empire (Weltpolitik) in the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries. As Chapter Two will explore, this designation was reinvented in the postwar period to reflect West Germany’s desire for international integration along economic lines. For more on this, see: Lars Amenda and Sonja Grünen, Tor zur Welt: Hamburg-Bilder und Hamburg-Werbung im 20 Jahrhundert (Hamburg: Dölling and Galitz, 2008). 54 In the case of Hamburg, I consider (West) Berlin to be the capital. Despite Bonn’s official status, Berlin remained the symbolic capital of West Germany. For more on “second cities,” see: Andrew Dowling, “A Tale of Two Cities: Madrid and Barcelona in Spain,” in Cities as Political Objects: Historical Evolution, Analytical Categorisations and Institutional Challenges of Metropolitanism, ed. Alistair Cole and Renaud Payre (Cheltenham: Edward Elgar Publishing, 2016), 79-97; Jerome I. Hodes, Second Cities: Globalization and Local Politics in Manchester and Philadelphia (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2013); Blair A. Ruble, Second Metropolis: Pragmatic Pluralism in Gilded Age Chicago, Silver Age Moscow, and Meiji Osaka (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001); Maiken Umbach, “A Tale of Second Cities: Autonomy, Culture, and the Law in Hamburg and Barcelona in the late- Nineteenth Century,” American Historical Review 110, No. 3 (2005), 659-692; Louise Young, Beyond the Metropolis: Second Cities and Modern Life in Interwar Japan (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2013).

Introduction 19 of social democracy and progressive, liberal values, and both were dominated by centre-left political parties and mayors during the postwar period.55 The similarities and differences between the two cities enable us to consider the ways in which exhibitions helped to construct larger narratives about modernity in the postwar period, as well as distinct local and national narratives of renewal and rebirth.

Historiography:

This dissertation builds on a rich interdisciplinary scholarship on the postwar Netherlands and West Germany, as well as drawing from specific literatures on postwar national identity and memory, postwar reconstruction, and the large body of scholarship on national and international exhibitions. An investigation of Rotterdam’s and Hamburg’s exhibitions indicates that the memories and legacies of the Second World War loomed large over the postwar period. This point is emphasized in broad interpretative works on the era, such as Eric Hobsbawm’s Age of Extremes,

Mark Mazower’s Dark Continent, and particularly in Tony Judt’s Postwar.56 Other, more specific works explore how the memory of the Holocaust in particular influenced postwar politics. For example, the volume Life after Death, argues that “the conservatism of the 1950s reflected a social-

55 With the exception of Kurt Sieveking (r. 1953-1957, CDU), every mayor in Hamburg between 1946 and 2001 was a member of the Social Democratic Party (SPD). In Rotterdam, meanwhile, every major between 1952 and 1998 was a member of the Labour Party (PvdA). Rotterdam’s first postwar mayor, Pieter Oud (r. 1945-1952) was originally also a member of the Labour Party, but switched to the Liberals (VVD) in 1947. This government composition undoubtedly helped the fact that so many exhibitions were organized in these cities. Exhibitions were often organized under the auspices of centre-left governments. In Great Britain, the 1951 Festival of Britain, for example, was organized under Clement Attlee’s postwar Labour government. 56 Other works likewise argue for the importance of the Second World War in properly understanding the postwar world and more specifically address the challenges the memory of the Second World War posed during the transition from wartime to peacetime. See: Frank Biess, and Robert G. Moeller, eds., Histories of the Aftermath: The Legacies of the Second World War in Europe (New York: Berghahn Books, 2010); Peter Romijn, “Restoration of Confidence: The Purge of Local Government in the Netherlands As a Problem of Postwar Reconstruction,” in The Politics of Retribution in Europe: World War II and its Aftermath, eds. Istvàn Deák, Jan T. Gross, and Tony Judt (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000), 173-193; Jan Gross, “A Tangled Web: Confronting Stereotypes Concerning Relations between Poles, Germans, Jews, and Communists” in The Politics of Retribution in Europe: World War II and its Aftermath, eds. Istvàn Deák, Jan T. Gross, and Tony Judt (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000), 74- 130.

Introduction 20 psychological reaction to the trauma of the 1940s as Europeans responded with ‘a desperate flight into normality’.”57 Similar themes are reflected in works that highlight the postwar quest for a

“usable past” and the challenge of creating new national identities following the horrors of the

Second World War. These points are well made in Norbert Frei’s Adenauer’s Germany and the

Nazi Past and Robert G. Moeller’s War Stories: The Search for a Usable Past in the Federal

Republic of Germany.58 S. Jonathan Wiesen’s work deals with similar questions as they pertain to

West German industry and businesses whose reputations were tainted by their associations with

National Socialism.59

Another significant body of work explores the remaking of national identities after the

Second World War. Articles in David Messenger’s and Katrin Paehler’s A Nazi Past, as well as works such as Erica Carter’s How German is She?, argue that the postwar period saw a renegotiation of what it meant to be a (West) German citizen, claiming that this new definition of nationhood was primarily based on West Germany’s social market economy and the associated arrival of private prosperity.60 In the American context, Lizabeth Cohen argues that ideas of

57 Richard Bessel and Dirk Schumann, eds., Life After Death: Approaches to the Social and Cultural History of Empire during the 1940s and 1950s (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003). See also: Philipp Gassert, and Alan E. Steinweis, eds., Coping with the Nazi Past: West German Debates on Nazism and Generation Conflict, 1955-1975 (New York: Berghahn Books, 2007); Wulf Kansteiner, “Losing the War, Winning the Memory Battle: The Legacy of Nazism, World War II, and the Holocaust in the Federal Republic of Germany,” in The Politics of Memory in Postwar Europe, eds. Richard Ned Lebow, Claudio Fogu, and Wulf Kantsteiner (Durham: Duke University Press, 2007), 102- 146. 58 This literature is extensive. For a brief sample of some of the most significant works, see footnote 21 in this introduction. 59 S. Jonathan Wiesen, West German Industry and the Challenge of the Nazi Past, 1945-1955 (Chapel Hill: North Carolina University Press, 2001). 60 Erica Carter, How German Is She? Postwar West German Reconstruction and the Consuming Woman (Ann Arbor: Michigan University Press, 1997); David A. Messenger, and Katrin Paelher, eds., A Nazi Past: Recasting German Identity in Postwar Europe (Lexington: University of Kentucky Press, 2015). Other works on this topic include: Christoph Buchheim, Die Wiedereingliederung Westdeutschland in die Weltwirtschaft, 1945-1958 (Munich: R. Oldenbourg Verlag, 1990); Jeff R. Schutts, “Born Again in the Gospel of Refreshment? Coca-Colonization and the Remaking of Postwar German Identity;” in Consuming Germany in the Cold War, ed. David Crew (New York: Berg, 2003), 121-150; S. Jonathan Wiesen, “Miracles for Sale: Consumer Displays and Advertising in Postwar West Germany,” in Consuming Germany in the Cold War, ed. David Crew (New York: Berg, 2003), 151-178; James van Hook, Rebuilding Germany: The Creation of the Social Market Economy, 1949-1957 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004); Charles S. Maier, In Search of Stability: Explorations in Historical Political Economy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987); Axel Schildt, Moderne Zeiten: Freizeit, Massenmedien und “Zeitgeist” in der Bundesrepublik der 50er Jahre (Hamburg: Christians Verlag, 1995); Hans-Peter Schwartz,

Introduction 21 consumption and private prosperity formed the crux of new postwar conceptions of citizenship.61

Scholarship on the Netherlands is more limited in these areas. A good deal of the English-language work on the postwar Netherlands focuses on economics, and there are only a few studies that comprehensively deal with the country’s postwar cultural development.62

Similar themes about the search for a “usable past” and the challenge of the Second World

War are reflected in works on architecture and urban planning, most prominently the scholarship of Gavriel D. Rosenfeld.63 The physical reconstruction of the Netherlands and West Germany, and in particular the cities of Rotterdam and Hamburg, is likewise extensively researched. Among the most important and prominent English-language works are those by Jeffry Diefendorf. His monograph, In the Wake of War, deals extensively with the project of reconstruction in West

Geschichte der Bundesrepublik Deutschland: Die Ära Adenauer, 1949-1957 (Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 1994); Mark E. Spicka, Selling the Economic Miracle: Economic Reconstruction and Politics in West Germany, 1949- 1957 (New York: Berghahn Books, 2007); Pamela Swett, S. Jonathan Wiesen, and Jonathan R. Zatlin, eds., Selling Modernity: Advertising in Twentieth-Century Germany (Durham: Duke University Press, 2007), especially chapters 7, 8, 9; Arnold Sywottek, “From Starvation to Excess? Trends in the Consumer Society from the 1940s to the 1970s,” in The Miracle Years: A Cultural History of West Germany, 1949-1968, ed. Hanna Schissler (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001), 341-358; Horst Friedrich Wünsche, Ludwig Erhards Gesellschafts- und Wirtschaftskonzeptionen: Soziale Marktwirtschaft als politische Ökonomie (Stuttgart: Verlag Bonn Aktuell, 1986). 61 Lizabeth Cohen, A Consumer’s Republic: The Politics of Mass Consumption in Postwar America (New York: Alfred Knopf, 2003). See also: Victoria de Grazia, Irresistible Empire: America’ Advance Through Twentieth-Century Europe (Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2005), who highlights how American ideas on the interrelation of consumption and citizenship crossed the Atlantic. See especially pages 336-457. 62 Most prominent in the former category are Richard T. Griffiths, The Economy and Politics of the Netherlands Since 1945 (The Hague: Martinus Nijhof, 1980); Jan L. van Zanden, The Economic History of the Netherlands 1914-1995: A Small Open Economy in the ‘Long’ Twentieth Century (London: Routledge, 1998). The most thorough and comprehensive English-language study on the cultural history of the postwar Netherlands is Kees Schuyt and Ed Taverne, Dutch Culture in a European Perspective, Volume 4: 1950: Prosperity and Welfare (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004). Originally published in Dutch as 1950: Welvaart in Zwart-Wit (The Hague: SDU Publishers, 2000). Dutch language scholarship on the Netherlands is of course more extensive, and addresses cultural, social, and political developments in the postwar Netherlands. See, among many others: H. Bakker and M. Bierman, Steden, wegen, ruimte: Op weg naar de bermbeschaving? (Amsterdam: Van Gennep, 1972, 1972); Jan W. Duyvendak and Ido de Haan, eds., Maakbaarheid: liberale wortles en hedendaagse kritiek van de maakbare samenleving (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 1997); Paul Luykx, and Pim Slot, Een stille revolutie? cultuur en mentaliteit in de lange jaren vijftig (Hilversum: Verloren, 1997); Tity de Vries, Complexe Consensus: Amerikaanse en Nederlandse Intellectuelen over politiek en cultuur, 1945-1965 (Hilversum: Verloren, 1996). 63 Gavriel D. Rosenfeld, Munich and Memory: Architecture, Monuments, and the Legacy of the Third Reich (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000); Gavriel D. Rosenfeld and Paul B. Jaskot (eds.), Beyond Berlin: Twelve German Cities Confront the Nazi Past (Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 2008). See also: Stephen Brockmann, Nuremberg: The Imaginary Capital (Rochester: Camden House, 2006); Sharon MacDonald, “Undesirable Heritage: Fascist Material Culture and Historical Consciousness in Nuremberg,” International Journal of Heritage Studies 12, No.1 (2006), 9-28; Pamela M. Porter, Art of Suppression: Confronting the Nazi Past in Histories of Visual and Performing Arts (Oakland: University of California Press, 2016).

Introduction 22

Germany and his edited volume, Rebuilding Europe’s Bombed Cities, includes articles on other

European cities.64 More specialized scholarship on the reconstruction of Rotterdam and Hamburg is found in Dutch and German language publications.65 Scholarship dedicated to postwar reconstruction has, by and large, overlooked exhibitions; much of this work focuses instead on the economic outcomes of recovery or architectural decisions made as part of physical reconstruction.66

64 Jeffry Diefendorf, In the Wake of War: The Reconstrucion of German Cities after the Second World War (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993); Jeffry Diefendorf, ed., Rebuilding Europe’s Bombed Cities (New York: Palgrave, 1990). See especially: Ed Taverne, “The Lijnbaan (Rotterdam): A Prototype of a Postwar Urban Shopping Centre, in Rebuilding Europe’s Bombed Cities, ed. Jeffry Diefendorf (New York: Palgrave, 1990), pgs. 145-154. The extensive volume A Blessing in Disguise: War and Town Planning in Europe, 1940-1945, ed. Jörn Düwel and Niels Gutschow (Berlin: DOM Publishers, 2013) likewise includes case studies of several European cities (including Rotterdam and Hamburg) but, as the title suggests, these focus mostly on war-time planning and only pay limited attention to the postwar period. For an excellent case study on Toulouse, France, see: Rosemary Wakemann, Modernizing the Provincial City: Toulouse 1945-1975 (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1998). 65 For Rotterdam, see: Hans Baaij, Rotterdam 650 Years: Fifty Years of Reconstruction (Antwerpen: Veen Publishers, 1990); Sergio Barbieri, ed., Stedebouw in Rotterdam: Plannen en Opstellen 1940-1981 (Amsterdam: Van Gennep, 1981); Sergio Barbieri, Roy Bijhouwer, and Hans van Dijk, et. al., Architectuur en Planning: Nederland 1940-1981 (Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 1983); Noor Mens, W.G. Witteveen en Rotterdam (Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 2007); Cordula Rooijendijk, That City is Mine! Urban Ideal Images in Public Debates and City Plans, Amsterdam and Rotterdam 1945-1995 (Amsterdam: Vossiuspers, 2005); Paul van Schilfgaarde, et. al., De wederopbouw van Rotterdam: stedelijke herverkaveling in praktijk (The Hague: VUGA, 1987); Wouter Vanstiphout, Maak een Stad; Rotterdam en de architectuur van J.H. van den Broek (Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 2005); Cor Wagenaar, Welvaartsstad in wording, De wederopbouw van Rotterdam, 1940-1952 (Rotterdam: NAi Uitgevers, 1993). For Hamburg, see: Uwe Bahnsen, and Kerstin von Stürmer, Die Stadt, die auferstand: Hamburgs Wiederaufbau, 1948- 1960 (Hamburg: Convent, 2005); Sven Bardua, and Gert Kähler, Die Stadt und das Auto wie der Verkehr Hamburg veränderte (Munich: Dölling und Galitz, 2012); Klaus von Beyme, Der Wiederaufbau: Architektur und Städtebaupolitik in beiden deutschen Staaten (Munich: Piper, 1987); Arthur Dähn, Neu-Altona: Planung zum Aufbau und zur Sanierung eines kriegszerstörten Stadtkerngebietes in der Freien und Hansestadt Hamburg (Hamburg: Hammonia Verlag, 1958); Werner Durth, and Niels Gutschow, Träume und Trümmern: Planungen zum Wiederaufbau zerstörter Städte im Westen Deutschland 1940-1950, Vol. 1 (Braunschweig: Vieweg, 1988); Jörn Düwel, and Niels Gutschow, Fortgewischt sind alle überflüssigen Zutaten: Hamburg 1943: Zerstörung und Städtebau (Berlin: Lukas Verlag für Kunst- und Geistesgeschichte, 2008); Jörn Düwel, and Michael Mönninger, Zwischen Traum und Trauma: Stadtplanung der Nachkriegsmoderne (Berlin: DOM Publishers, 2011); Michael Grüttner, Wem die Stadt gehört: Stadtplanung und Stadtentwicklung in Hamburg, 1965-1975 (Hamburg: Verlag Association, 1976); Jörg Hackhausen, Stadtplanung in Hamburg: Kontinuitäten und Wandel vom Generalbebauungsplan 1940/41 bis zum Aufbauplan 1950 (Munich: Grin Verlag, 2005); Ralf Lange, Hamburg – Wiederaufbau und Neuplanung, 1943-1963 (Königstein im Taunus: Langewiesche, 1994); Klaus Müller-Ibold, Stadt im Fluß: Stadtebauliche Entwicklung am Beispiel Hamburg (Hamburg: Christians, 1978); Michael Wawoczny, Der Schnitt durch die Stadt, Planungs- und Baugeschichte der Hamburger Ost-West Straße von 1911 bis heute (Hamburg: Dölling und Galitz, 1996); Kay Weniger, “Wiederaufbau- und Neubauplanungen in Hamburg 1945-1950: Städtebauliche Kontinuität oder Wandel?” (PhD diss., University of Hamburg, 1987). 66 The exception here is Helmut Puff, Miniature Monuments: Modelling German History (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2014) which does briefly deal with the display of city models in the context of postwar reconstruction, although this is not the explicit focus of the monograph. In a separate category are works by scholars such as Wolfgang Friebe and Eric Mattie, who look at the importance of architecture at exhibitions, rather than the (re)presentation of urban (re)construction projects at exhibitions. See: Wolfgang Friebe, Buildings of the World’s Exhibitions (Leipzig: Edition Leipzig, 1985); Andrew Garn, et. al., Exit to Tomorrow: World’s Fair Architecture, Design, Fashion, 1933-2005

Introduction 23

This dissertation draws on a large and rich scholarship on exhibitions broadly conceived.

Some stand-out works that provide excellent overviews include John Allwood’s The Great

Exhibitions, detailing the period between 1851 and the 1970s, and Robert Rydell’s pioneering study, All the World’s a Fair, which was one of the first works to use exhibitions to further our understanding of the cultural histories of the participating countries.67 Paul Greenhalgh’s

Ephemeral Vistas: The Expositions Universelles, Great Exhibitions, and World’s Fairs, 1851-

1939 is likewise important for highlighting, as this study also hopes to do, that exhibitions were ideological constructs that legitimated existing social orders.68

(New York, Universe: 2007); Erik Mattie, World’s Fairs (New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 1998); Pieter Johan van Wesemael, Architectuur van instructie en vermaak: Een maatschappijhistorische analyse van de wereldtentoonstelling als didactisch verschijnsel (Phd. Thesis. Technische Universiteit Delft, 1997). Works by Peter J. Larkham, John and Margarete Gold, and Stephen V. Ward, relate the urban form to exhibitions in another way. They have argued that planning and the visualization of potential future cityscapes offered hope and optimism to the public by presenting idealized futures. See also: Brian Chalkey and Stephen Essex, “Urban Planning through Hosting International Events: A History of the Olympic Games,” Planning Perspectives 14, No. 4, 1999, 369-394; Graeme Evans, Cultural Planning: An Urban Renaissance? (London: Routledge, 2001); John R. Gold and Margaret R. Gold, Cities of Culture: Staging International Festivals and the Urban Agenda, 1851-2000 (New York: Routledge, 2016); John R. Gold and Stephen V. Ward, Place Promotion: The Use of Publicity and Marketing to Sell Towns and Regions (New York: Wiley, 1994); Peter Hall, Cities of Tomorrow: An Intellectual History of Urban Planning and Design in the Twentieth Century (New York: Blackwell, 1988); Peter J. Larkham, “Exhibiting Planning in Wartime Britain,” in Robert Freestone, et. al., Exhibitions and the Development of Modern Planning Culture (New York: Routledge, 2016), 131-147; Eva Rudberg et. al., The Stockholm Exhibition 1930: Modernism’s breakthrough in Swedish Architecture (Stockholm: Stockholmia Forlag, 1999); Stephen V. Ward, Selling Places: The Marking and Promotion of Towns and Cities, 1850-2000 (London: E & F.N. Spon, 1998). 67 John Allwood, The Great Exhibitions (London: Studio Vista, 1977); Robert W. Rydell, World of Fairs: The Century-of-Progress Expositions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993). Rydell’s subsequent work, World of Fairs: Century of Progress Exposition (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993) highlights the motives for organizing fairs. 68 Paul Greenhalgh, Ephemeral Vistas: The Expositions Universelles, Great Exhibitions, and World’s Fairs, 1851- 1939 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1988). Other specialized studies look at how exhibitions reinforced ideas about race, empire, gender, nationalism, consumption, art, or even food. For a brief selection in these categories, see: Race and Empire: Jeffrey Auerbach and Peter Hoffenberg, eds., Britain, the Empire, and the World at the Great Exhibition of 1851 (New York: Routledge, 2016); Peter Hoffenberg, An Empire on Display: English, Indian, and Australian Exhibitions from the Crystal Palace to the Great War (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001); John M. MacKenzie, Museums and Empire: Natural History, Human Cultures and Colonial Identities (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2010); Gender: Tracey J. Boisseau and Abigail M. Markwyn, Gendering the Fair: Histories of Women and Gender and World’s Fairs (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2010); Consumption: Simon J. Broner, Consuming Visions: Accumulation and Display of Goods in America 1880-1920 (New York: W.W. Norton, 1989); Art: Jason Busch and Caroline Futter, Inventing the Modern World: Decorative Arts at the World’s Fairs, 1851-1939 (New York: Skira Rizzoli, 2012). Food: Nelleke Teughels, and Peter Sholliers, eds., A Taste of Progress: Food at International and World Exhibitions in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries (New York: Routledge, 2016); Pamela Vaccaro, Beyond the Ice Cream Cone: The Whole Scoop on Food at the 1904 World’s Fair (St. Louis: Enid Press, 2004). These divisions are never as clear as this categorization makes it seem. For example, scholarship on race, empire, nationalism, and gender at exhibitions often intersects in literature on ethnic displays at fairs in the mid- and late- nineteenth-century. See, for example: Rikke Andreassen, Human Exhibitions: Race, Gender, and Sexuality in

Introduction 24

This small sampling already indicates a significant drawback to the historiography on exhibitions. The vast majority of research focuses on world’s fairs, rather than on local, regional, or national exhibitions, and often favours the century between 1851 and 1951. Material before and after those dates is considerably more limited. For example, there exist only a few studies of the exhibitions in Brussels in 1958, Seattle in 1962, Montreal in 1967, or Osaka in 1970.69 The current historiography also underserves a distinct category of fair: the specialized exhibitions. These were events that received international accreditation from the Bureau International des Expositions

(BIE), the intergovernmental supervisory body for international exhibitions, and had a particular topical focus.70 Examples include Stockholm’49, a sports-exhibition, Berlin’s Interbau’57, which focused on housing development, and IVA’65 in Munich, which specialized in transportation and transport technology. Other examples include Turin’s Expo’61, better known as Italia’61, which was conceived as an international labour exhibition, although Italy used the event as a pretext to celebrate the centennial of Italian unification. With the exception of Italia’61, none of these events have been treated in a full-length monograph, although Interbau’57 has formed the topic of a number of article-length investigations.71 This offers plenty of opportunities to expand research topically, as investigations of these exhibitions can offer great insights in the development of postwar culture in specific national contexts.

Ethnic Displays (New York: Routledge, 2016); Sadiah Qureshi, Peoples on Parade: Exhibitions, Empire, and Anthropology in Nineteenth-Century Britain (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 2011) 69 Gonzague Pluvinage, Expo ’58: between Utopia and Reality (Brussels: Brussels City Archives, 2008); Pierre Burton, 1967: The Last Good Year (Toronto: Doubleday Canada, 1997). 70 In the postwar period, these exhibitions include: Stockholm 1949, Lyon 1949, Lille 1951, Jerusalem 1953, Rome 1953, Naples 1954, Turin 1955, Helsingborg 1955, Beit Dagan 1956, Berlin 1957, Turin 1961, Munich 1965, San Antonio 1968. 71 Italia’61: Sergio Pace, Cristiana Chiorino, and Michela Rosso, Italia’61, the Nation on Show: The Personalities and Legends Heralding the Centenary of the Unification of Italty (Turn: Umberto Allemandi & Co., 2006); Emilio Gentile, La Granda Italia: The Myth of the Nation in the Twentieth Century. (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2009), specifically pgs. 338-350. Interbau’57: Karl Friedhelm Fisher, “Berlin’s International Building Exhibitions 1957 and 1984/87” in Exhibitions and the Development of Modern Planning Culture, eds. Robert Freestone and Marco Armati (Burlington: Ashgate, 2014), 261-276; Frank R. Werner’s “Space times and time spaces: ephemeral architecture reflected in history,” in In-Between: Exhibition Architecture, ed. Hans-Dieter Schaal (Stuttgart: Menges, 2009), 12-35.

Introduction 25

The postwar events in Rotterdam and Hamburg were of another type entirely. Firstly, the events in Hamburg were horticultural exhibitions, as was Rotterdam’s Floriade in 1960. The literature on horticultural exhibitions is mostly limited to article-length studies of one or several events, and often deal with the specifics of park- and landscape- design.72 Works on Rotterdam’s and Hamburg’s horticultural exhibitions from a socio-cultural or historical perspective is slim and, indeed, limited to the work of Kristina Vagt. Her monograph Politik durch die Blume, as well her article “Kapt’n Blume lädt Euch all herzlich ein…” deals with Hamburg’s IGAs extensively, while her article “Zwischen Systemkonkurrenz und Freizeitvergnügen: Die IGA 1961 im deutsch- deutschen Kontext” briefly surveys the Hamburg IGAs within the context of the German East-

West division.73 However, Vagt’s work comes at the IGAs primarily from a socio-political angle, dealing with what the IGAs meant internationally, and especially in light of the Cold War. Internal politics are thereby largely glossed over.

In addition to the horticultural exhibitions, three other case studies form a central part of this dissertation: Ahoy’ (1950), E55 (1955), and C70 (1970). They were different from any of those surveyed thus far as they were neither large international events, nor were they specialized BIE- recognized events. Instead, they were national festivals that attracted international audiences. In

72 See, for example: Andrew C. Theokas, “Greens to an End,” Landscape Design (December 1992), 41-44; Patricia Phillips, “Present Tensions: The Nature of Public Space,” in The Once and Future Park, eds. Deborah Karasov, and Steve Waryan (New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 1993); Andrew C. Theokas, Grounds for Review: The Garden Festival in Urban Planning and Design (Liverpool: Liverpool university Press, 2004) is the first, and to date only, work to deal comparatively with garden festivals in Great Britain, Germany, and the Netherlands. Horticultural exhibitions are also sometimes discussed in studies that deal with urban parks or green space in urban settings. See, for example: John Dixon Hunt, The Making of Place: Modern and Contemporary Gardens (London: Reaktion Books, 2015), Chapter 3; Eric Parry, Context: Architecture and the Genius of Place (Chichester: John Wiley & Sons, 2015); Amelia Wright, Future Park: Imagining Tomorrow’s Urban Parks (Collingwood: CSIRO Publishing, 2013). 73 Kristina Vagt, Politik durch die Blume: Gartenbauausstellungen in Hamburg und Erfurt im Kalten Krieg (1950- 1974) (Munich: Döllig und Galitz, 2013); Kristina Vagt, “Kapt’n Blume lädt Euch all herzlich ein…: Die Inszenierung Hamburgs af der Internationalen Gartenbauausstellung 1973,” in 19 Tage Hamburg Ereignisse und Entiwcklungen der Stadtgeschichte seit den fünfziger Jahren, ed. Christoph Strupp (Munich and Hamburg: Döllig und Galitz, 2012), 175-186; Kristina Vagt, “Zwischen Systemkonkurrenz und Freizeitvergnügen: Die iga 1961 im deutsch-deutschen Kontext” in Blumenstadt Erfurt: Waid – Gartenbau – iga/egapark, eds. Martin Baumann und Steffen Raßloff (Erfurt: Sutton, 2011), 341-349.

Introduction 26 this sense, they are perhaps most similar to the 1951 Festival of Britain.74 Such events were highly nationalistic and sought to give a boost to postwar recovery broadly conceived. They were important markers for the public’s understanding of postwar recovery. There is no full-length historical monograph on the exhibitions in Rotterdam. Peter de Winter’s Ahoy’, E55, Floriade,

C70: Evenementen in Rotterdam provides a useful overview of all four events in sequence, but lacks sufficient historical analysis or argumentation.75 Beyond this, Jelle Hensen’s unpublished thesis “Tentoonstellingen in de Jaren ’50: E55 te Rotterdam,” deals with E55 in more detail, but comes at the topic from a civil engineering, rather than a historical, point of view.76 Additionally, a few works mention the Rotterdam exhibitions briefly. These include Patricia van Ulzens’

Dromen van een Metropool and Floris J. Paalman’s Cinematic Rotterdam.77

This dissertation thus contributes to a large and diverse body of scholarship, yet fills a particular gap. It looks at how the exhibitions in both cities evolved; it compares those exhibitions to one another, and it asks what this comparison tells us about the postwar period in general and the project and process of postwar recovery more specifically. For reasons that will be explored in detail in subsequent chapters, Rotterdam and Hamburg opted for very different kinds of exhibitions after the Second World War, and an investigation of the postwar period through the lens of exhibitions allows us to understand why this was so. It deepens our understanding of postwar recovery, moreover, as a continually changing cultural process.

74 Becky Conekin, The Autobiography of a Nation: The 1951 Festival of Britain (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2003); Harriet Atkinson, The Festival of Britain: A Land and its People (London: I.B. Taurus & Co., 2012). Susanne Cowan, “A Model for the Nation: Exhibiting Post-war Reconstruction at the Festival of Britain” in Exhibitions and the Development of Modern Planning Culture, eds. Robert Freestone and Marco Armati (Burlington: Ashgate, 2014), 261-276. See also: Ellen Shoskes, Jacqueline Tyrwhitt: A Transnational Life in Urban Planning and Design (New York: Ashgate, 2013). 75 Peter de Winter, Ahoy’, E55, Floriade, C70: Evenementen in Rotterdam (Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 1988). 76 Jelle Hensen, “Tentoonstellingen in de Jaren ’50: E55 te Rotterdam,” Unpublished Civil Engineering Thesis, Ghent University, 2007. 77 Patricia van Ulzen, Dromen van een Metropool: De Creatieve Klasse van Rotterdam, 1970-2000 (Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 2007) (Published in English as: Imagine a Metropolis: Rotterdam’s Creative Class, 1970-2000); Floris Paalman, Cinematic Rotterdam: The Times and Tides of a Modern City (Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 2011).

Introduction 27

This study is based on a rich selection of primary sources, including city council minutes, correspondence, organizational committee discussion minutes, promotional materials, newspaper articles, and magazines. These sources are rich and allow us to explore how and why exhibitions were organized, how organizers responded to contemporary developments and challenges, and why the exhibitions took the shape that they did. In my investigation of these sources I have remained attentive to the historical context and specificities that underlay its organization.

Yet, rich as the primary source base is, those documents dealing with exhibitions also have drawbacks. Firstly, they are one-dimensional. The archival documents are, almost without exception, documents from, to, or largely about, executive committee members and other organizers. As such, they often only highlight the narrative of success that the exhibitions themselves also portrayed and echoes of political, financial, or public struggles and constraints are largely absent from the source base. Dissenting voices, moreover, are also absent as people in disagreement with managers and organizers would likely never have been considered for organizational positions. It is perhaps unsurprising, then, that in these sources there seems to be little to no friction between individual committee members.78

I have addressed this one-dimensionality of the sources in several ways. Firstly, I have tried to introduce newspaper articles and magazine spreads wherever possible in an attempt to foreground voices outside the exhibitions’ executive committees. Although these newspaper reports were often based on official press-releases designed and curated by the event organizers, the journalists and editors were at least outside, and ostensibly neutral, voices. Secondly, this dissertation is about intent, not reception. The dissertation does not, and cannot, make an argument about how the exhibitions were generally received, or whether or not the exhibition or its pavilions

78 Even, as will be explored in Chapter Two, when two people that are ostensible enemies work together, the archival record is silent on any friction between them. See Passarge and Lubisch, chapter 2.

Introduction 28 had the desired effects. This is because any records of success, such as visitor counts, ticket sales, reviews, or polling results, would have been reviewed by members of the organizational committee before they ended up in the historical record, and could very well have been adjusted to achieve certain results. It is unlikely, for example, that in a quest to obtain funding for a future exhibition, the organizational committee would have referred to unfavourable poll results or negative reviews from previous events. With the exception of a casual mention in select memoirs, then, we are left with a few documents consisting of questionnaires or exit polls that were likely curated.

Accordingly, we can only make informed guesses as to how the exhibitions and their specific pavilions were actually received. Based on ticket sales and newspaper reviews we can speculate about the popularity and resonance of the exhibitions, but a more detailed analysis of reception is beyond the scope of this study and, unless other sources materialize, probably beyond the reach of the historian.

Chapter Summaries:

Even given the limitations of the source base, exhibitions are exceptionally useful events for reflecting upon larger societal processes and developments. This dissertation examines exhibitions during the first thirty years after the war and is organized into two sections. The first three chapters cover the period between the end of the Second World War and the late 1950s, and deal with the presentation of postwar recovery and the construction of postwar narratives in

Rotterdam and Hamburg for both foreign and domestic audiences. The second half of the dissertation, consisting of Chapters Four and Five, covers the period from 1960 to the early 1970s.

The exhibitions in this period no longer engaged directly with the topic of recovery per se, but instead addressed contemporary problems, concerns, and priorities.

Introduction 29

Chapter One, The Promised Land, explores the connections between wartime experience and the content of the first postwar exhibitions. Focusing on the first events organized in the late

1940s, this chapter demonstrates how the organizers in both Rotterdam and Hamburg developed a language and a set of themes that guided their exhibitions through the subsequent decades. After twelve years of Nazi dictatorship and the horrific destruction of the Second World War, the exhibitions in Hamburg emphasized a new national narrative centered around the social market economy. Careful to avoid the hyperbolic language of the Nazis, they did not offer bold visions but instead focused on solvable, finite problems, often centered around economic issues. The exhibitions, organized by German technocrats under the guidance of British occupation officials, looked at food production, rubble removal, and job creation – all technocratic, doable issues that associated future success with economic prosperity rather than with a return to “glory” or a resurgent political nationalism. This was in stark contrast to Rotterdam, where the exhibitions offered bold visions of the future with the intent of distinguishing the city from its wartime iteration. The exhibitions in Rotterdam displayed visions of a radically new world in a political language of modernity and displayed improvements in productivity, industrial advancement, technological progress, and an urban reconstruction as critical aspects of the country’s national recovery and return to glory.79

Chapter Two, Manifestations of a New World, examines the first large-scale postwar exhibitions organized in the early 1950s. In this chapter, I explore how these events were both tools used to promote postwar Rotterdam and Hamburg to international audiences and devices employed to encourage visitors to support recovery at home. Ahoy’, Rotterdam’s 1950 exhibition, was designed to introduce the fully-reconstructed port of Rotterdam to international audiences and

79 In fact, exhibitions in the late 1940s and the early 1950s make explicit reference to the 17th Century Dutch Golden Age. Exhibitions in the 1950s even refer to the postwar period as a “Second Golden Age.”

Introduction 30 to show domestic audiences that the city’s elites were hard at work reconstructing the city. The exhibition went to great lengths to demonstrate that the port’s recovery was not only necessary for the resurrection of the nation, but was a prerequisite for the prosperity promised to all. Both the technological advances of the port and the promise of prosperity were presented as hallmarks of the new age, thus continuing the narratives of the first chapter where Rotterdam sought to set itself apart from its prewar ancestor by highlighting the “newness” of its purified postwar status.

In Hamburg, the first major international exhibition was also geared toward its port, but only indirectly. The port, as an economic infrastructure, was not highlighted. Because many of

West Germany’s largest trading partners continued to see Germans as the enemy, the Hamburg

Senate organized a horticultural exhibition to promote a friendlier image of the city (and indeed of

West Germany) abroad in an effort promote trade. A flower show focused international attention on the city for something innocent and amicable: flowers. Cleverly, however, the exhibition still allowed the city to make a statement about its postwar identity and the city’s status as a world- class trading port. With immaculately manicured lawns and lavishly appointed flowerbeds, the exhibition was a symbol of the postwar abundance and ingenuity of the host city. Under the guise of horticulture, the exhibition showed that Hamburg was the largest transshipment port for tropical fruits and one of the largest cultivation centres for fruits and vegetables in all of West Germany.

The exhibition made a statement about the city’s capacities, but because it boasted about flower exports rather than the industrial advances of the port, the city appeared to be much more friendly and cooperative. To further underscore Hamburg’s postwar innocence, the exhibition included a pavilion that showed the immense destruction to which the city had been subjected during the war.

This exhibit claimed that the city had fallen victim to the Nazis just like other cities and countries in Western Europe. In the early 1950s, then, the outward presentation of Hamburg and the Federal

Republic emphasized an apolitical friendliness and the importance of rapprochement.

Introduction 31

Chapter Three, Banishing Cinderella, advances the focus on recovery by looking at how the arrival of postwar mass prosperity in the mid 1950s was announced to local audiences. The exhibitions in Rotterdam and Hamburg reflected now familiar themes: Rotterdam’s highlighted modernity, productivity, rationality, and efficiency and Hamburg’s postwar identity was underscored in economic terms. At Rotterdam’s E55 exhibition in 1955, language previously used by Ahoy’ to describe the port was applied to the domestic sphere; now the consumption of new appliances and other consumer durables was presented as part of the country’s renewal. A similar shift occurred in Hamburg, where the first incarnation of the tradeshow You and Your World (Du und Deine Welt) in 1955 presented economic prosperity and consumption as foundational to West

German domestic identity. Just like IGA’53 sought to create a new postwar status for Hamburg economically, consumption would become the foundation for domestic rehabilitation as well.

Chapter Three argues that this emphasis on private prosperity changed the way postwar

Dutch and West Germans viewed their worlds: it changed their norms, values, and goals. It changed, in the words of Lizabeth Cohen, “where they dwelled, how they interacted with others, and what and how they consumed, what they expected of government, and much else.”80 This shift could be seen in the exhibitions of the 1960s and early 1970s, as their organizers moved away from themes of reconstruction and instead looked to contemporary developments and concerns.

Reconstruction, simply put, was over. Indicative of this change was a linguistic shift in West

Germany, where planners abandoned the term reconstruction (Wiederaufbau) in favour of terms such as Aufbau or Neubau (“building up,” and “building new,” respectively) starting in the late

1950s.81

80 Elizabeth Cohen, A Consumer’s Republic: The Politics of Mass Consumption in Postwar America (New York: Alfred Knopf, 2003). 8. 81 Werner Durth and Niels Gutschow, Träume in Trümmern: Planungen zum Wiederaufbau zerstörter Städte im Westen Deutschlands 1940-1940, 2. vols. (Braunschweig: Vieweg, 1988), 278-79.

Introduction 32

Chapter Four, Garden of Men and Machines, looks at the large international exhibitions organized in the early 1960s. The 1960 Floriade exhibition in Rotterdam build on previous exhibitions in its wholehearted embrace of scientific and technological advances and, in particular, nuclear technologies. For Hamburg, the organization of IGA’63, the successor of the 1953 exhibition of the same name, was likewise a way for the city’s business and political elites to promote their trade acumen and to present a specific image of Hamburg on the international stage.

IGA’63 faced challenges similar to its predecessor. The organization of IGA’63, which began in

1957, happened at a time when West German military and economic resurgence, Cold War anxieties, and the legacies of the Nazi regime were all front-page news. At the same time, surveys indicated that people across Europe continued to think of Germans as the enemy, being “warlike,”

“brutal,” and “aggressive.”82 Very little had seemingly changed from 1953, and IGA’63 set out to counter the association of West Germans with military aggression and brutality. The event thus promoted economic success and industrial ingenuity, connecting West Germany with images of resourcefulness and inventiveness, rather than with aggression. IGA’63 also underscored West

Germany’s commitment to the Cold War and the Western Alliance system and redirected any notion of West Germany as “the enemy” onto the Soviet Bloc.

Chapter Five, The End of the Postwar, explores the retrospective exhibitions organized in

Hamburg and Rotterdam in the mid 1960s as well as what should be considered the final postwar exhibitions in the early 1970s. Focusing once again on domestic developments, these exhibitions dealt with the changing priorities audiences placed on their postwar environment. After E55 and the first incarnation of You and Your World in 1955, Rotterdam and Hamburg quickly entered a period of mass prosperity with far-reaching consequences. Growing prosperity made for

82 S. Jonathan Wiesen, “Germany’s PR Man: Julius Klein and the Making of Transatlantic Memory,” in Coping with the Nazi Past: West German Debates on Nazism and Generation Conflict, 1955-1975, eds. Philipp Gassert and Alan E. Steinweis (New York: Berghahn Books, 2007), pgs. 294-308, here pg. 294.

Introduction 33 increasingly prosperous citizens who were no longer concerned with “a job and a weekly wage” – that was taken for granted – but instead wanted a better quality of life. What was important now was more leisure time, more experiences, and a better work-life balance.83 As Mary Fulbrook has observed, “the image of affluence was spreading: the ‘typical’ West German was no longer an emaciated ex-POW, a person lacking an arm or a leg, a prematurely aged widow in black, but rather a bloated, cigar-smoking business man, an efficient banker or industrialist, or a fashion- conscious, smartly dressed woman.”84 Thus the earlier focus on rationality, efficiency, and growth was increasingly seen as one-dimensional, as it no longer served the needs of contemporary life.

Chapter Five looks at how these changing demands and priorities were reflected in the two final postwar exhibitions hosted in Rotterdam and Hamburg. Hosted in 1970 and 1973, the exhibitions came at a time when Rotterdam’s and Hamburg’s prosperity was in many ways at its peak. To this end, C70 and IGA’73 tried to reintroduce Rotterdam and Hamburg to audiences as spaces of fun and conviviality and to highlight how the process of recovery over the preceding twenty years had been symbiotic with the newfound desires. These exhibitions were not a rejection of what had been undertaken in the previous twenty years, but instead offered a reinterpretation of postwar recovery.

Exhibitions played an important role in the construction of a new postwar world. As such, they are exceptionally useful historical events for reflecting upon larger societal processes and developments during this period. Collectively, the exhibitions in this dissertation highlight a general shift in perceptions of modernity and what was considered to be a desirable postwar world.

The first two postwar decades stressed a particular form of high modernism that centered around ideas of renewal based on science and technology. Experts and technocrats were to guide the cities

83 Schuyt and Taverne, Dutch Culture in a European Perspective, 351. 84 Mary Fulbrook, A History of Germany 1918-2014: The Divided Nation (Chichester: John Wiley & Sons, 2015), 167.

Introduction 34 and country into a new world of progress and prosperity. In Rotterdam, this progress was centered on radical physical renewal and technological innovation, while technocrats in Hamburg focused on economics and peaceful international relations. After the mid-1960s this changed. Exhibitions in Rotterdam and Hamburg, rather than focusing on radical renewal or economic growth, began to pay more attention to lived experience and quality of life. When looked at over an extended period of time, the exhibitions demonstrate that the “postwar period” – les trente glorieuses, as it has been called in France85 – was not static or monolithic, but instead a highly regionally and nationally specific period of constant flux.

85 This term was coined by French historian Jean Fourastié. See Les trente glorieuses, ou, La revolution invisible de 1946 à 1975 (Paris: Fayard, 1979).

Chapter One 35

Chapter 1: The Promised Land: Visions of Recovery in the Early Postwar Period

In the summer of 1947, a visitor to the exhibition Rotterdam Soon (Rotterdam Straks) enthusiastically exclaimed: “I feel like Moses, I’ve seen the promised land!”1 His exclamation was in response to having gotten a glimpse of a great future of progress, peace, and prosperity that postwar recovery promised to all. The reaction was exactly what those organizing the event had hoped for; the vision that had unfolded before the visitor’s eyes was one that had been carefully curated by Rotterdam’s business and political elites with the specific purpose of gaining public support for their version of the city’s postwar recovery and reconstruction. This was not uncommon. In the aftermath of the Second World War in cities across Western Europe, local business and municipal elites organized exhibitions that sought to inspire hope, make sense of the chaotic postwar world, and chart visions for the future.2 As such, the events were critical structures in establishing what the postwar city would be all about, determining acceptable narratives of postwar modernity and promoting certain images, and choices over others.

This chapter explores the legacy of the Second World War vis-à-vis postwar exhibitions.

It is the first of three chapters that highlight the tremendous influence of that conflict on how exhibitions performed postwar recovery in each city, both in what the organizers chose to present or to leave out of view. The traumatic experiences of invasion and occupation in the Netherlands ensured that postwar exhibitions in Rotterdam looked to the future with determination. Humiliated, the Dutch set out to reinvent the country after the war by focusing on the values of hard work,

1 “Ons Programma voor Nu and Straks: Een overzichtelijke bespreking van de tentoonstelling in Museum Boymans,” Rotterdam Bouwt: Het Maandblad Gewijd aan de Wederopbouw van Rotterdam, (Special Edition: Opbouwnummer van Programma), July 1947, 2. 2 See, for example, Harriet Atkinson, The Festival of Britain: A Land and its People (London: I.B. Taurus & Co., 2012).

Chapter One 36 productivity, and efficiency. Recovery of the country at large, and of Rotterdam in particular, was presented as an aesthetic and cultural renewal while the physical removal of the old city and country was presented as a literal purification of the past. In Hamburg, the Nazi dictatorship and the experiences of the war made organizers in that city very cautious in how it presented its recovery to its own citizens and to the outside world. The city’s elites did not want the city to appear aggressive or to make direct connections to the Nazi past, lest this create societial tensions or hurt postwar economic opportunities. As it were, the problem of civic and political destruction as a result of the war was turned into a problem of economics as the earliest exhibitions in Hamburg focused on finite, solvable, technocratic and economic problems and themes. The symbolic and highly nationalist qualities of physical purification and cultural renewal of Rotterdam’s exhibitions were conspicuously absent.

For both Hamburg and Rotterdam, postwar exhibitions pointed to a promised land: for the one it was to a radically new urban future, for the other an economic paradise of independence and prosperity. Moreover, these visions were active and changing creations. The first exhibitions in

Rotterdam –Rotterdam Soon (1947), The City on the Meuse in Scaffolding (1949), and A City Rises

Again (1950)– promoted a very particular vision of the postwar city that was created by its business and political elites because it was economically beneficial to them. A group of highly influential businessmen, known as “Club Rotterdam,” wanted highly modern rebuilding in the image of what they regarded to be the city’s transatlantic twin: New York. The earliest postwar exhibitions, accordingly, were about selling this vision to the public, representing national recovery along these lines as being in the best interest of all. It was for this reason that the exhibitions had to be awe- inspiring: they had to sell a certain vision of the future. The exhibition’s “radiance” was carefully curated so that when the visitor was surrounded by the beauty, possibility, and promise of the postwar world, one might conclude that he was indeed Moses.

Chapter One 37

In Hamburg, by contrast, the earliest exhibitions – Our Daily Bread (1947), Rubble

Removal and Recycling (1947), and Hamburg at Work (1948) – were organized while the city was still under British occupation. They accordingly reflected the goals and interests of the British who were primarily concerned with the more necessary, if mundane, aspects of recovery: housing, food supply, and industrial productivity. In contrast with the symbolc language of recovery that prevailed in Rotterdam, then, the exhibitions organized in British-occupied Hamburg defined reconstruction in technocratic and economic terms. This was not by accident. In the spring of 1948, after almost two years of occupation, industrial output in the British zone was still well below what it had been in 1936.3 The sluggish recovery was a concern for the British military occupation government, which was forced to import great quantities of food to prevent the Germans in their zone from starvation. Tony Judt reported that between May 1945 and July 1946 alone the British had imported “112,000 tons of wheat and 50,000 tons of potatoes to feed the local population of

[their] zone.”4 For Great Britain, which had basically been bankrupted by the war, this was an unsustainable arrangement. The first municipal exhibitions in Hamburg, accordingly, were organized with this problem in mind. The events promoted tools and techniques for increased agricultural and industrial productivity in the zone, with the ultimate goal of boosting production and lessening the financial and material burden of the British occupation. These subjects were technical and economical, and they did not lend themselves very easily to exciting models or visually stimulating exhibits.

The varied aims of exhibitions in Rotterdam and Hamburg were a reflection of the widely divergent material and political conditions of the postwar period, as well as the dissimilar postwar desires and priorities of those in charge of each city. Over the course of the late 1940s, exhibitions

3 Tony Judt, Postwar: A History of Europe Since 1945 (New York: Penguin Books, 2005), 98. 4 Judt, Postwar, 123.

Chapter One 38 established and communicated what were acceptable notions of recovery in both cities. In

Rotterdam, the priorities of Club Rotterdam ensured that the future of the city would be intimately associated with stylistic redevelopment along highly modern lines, rectilinear forms, light, wide- open spaces, a general lack of ornamentation, and city planning in terms of ideas promulgated by the International Congress of Modern Architecture (CIAM, Congrés Internationaux d’Architecture Moderne). These modernist objectives dovetailed nicely with a national desire for a removal of the past. Although Dutch political history was perhaps less fraught than West

Germany’s, the Netherlands had a recent history of collaboration and, in the words of Ned Lebow, a “mixed track record with regard to protecting Jewish citizens and Jewish refugees.”5 The experiences of invasion, defeat, occupation, and collaboration were humiliating, and many

Dutchmen desired to forget all about them and move on. Exhibitions represented recovery as part of this process; physical reconstruction along highly modern lines was presented as a purge of the damning memories of invasion, capitulation, and collaboration. The exhibitions in Rotterdam, accordingly, explicitly focused on reconstruction and reinforced messages of achieving postwar unity and overcoming the past via total renewal.

The British meanwhile, established notions of what constituted an acceptable postwar modernity in Hamburg. Although their focus on economics and technology was initially dictated by their interest to reduce the burden of occupation, these motivations remained marked in how recovery would be presented in Hamburg over the next decade. This was because a focus on technocratic and economic issues also suited Hamburg’s business and political elites after the

British left the city in 1949. Discussions of these topics were an excellent way to depoliticize narratives of postwar rebuilding and presented a logical choice of theme for exhibitions given that

5 Richard Ned Lebow, “The Memory of Politics in Postwar Europe,” in The Politics of Memory in Postwar Europe, eds. Richard Ned Lebow, Claudio Fogu, and Wulf Kantsteiner (Durham: Duke University Press, 2007), pgs. 1-39, here pg. 19.

Chapter One 39 the symbolic leitmotifs prevalent in Rotterdam were not appropriate in the West German context.

While Nazi planners in Hamburg, led by city architect Konstanty Gutschow, had drafted reconstruction plans after the bombardment of the city in July 1943, by 1945 these plans were tainted by their association with the Nazi regime and were inappropriate material for postwar exhibitions. Moreover, the display of grand future cities –one of Hitler’s favourite pastimes– was closely associated with the Nazis, and was thus not appropriate after the war. The postwar exhibitions correspondingly projected visions of a recovered Hamburg as not necessarily physically beautiful, but as economically independent. The focus on the technocratic and the economic, rather than the political or the aesthetic, would become a hallmark of West German discussions about postwar recovery. In this process, these exhibitions communicated ideas of what it meant to be a West German city in the postwar period.

The earliest exhibitions in both cities, therefore, reflected the goals and interests of those who organized them. They were also the result of the material conditions of the postwar world, the legacies of the Nazi regime, and the different postwar priorities of the elites in each city. This chapter explores in detail the first exhibitions hosted in both: Rotterdam Soon in Rotterdam, and

Our Daily Bread in Hamburg. By virtue of being the first, these exhibitions most clearly highlighted the root causes for the different emphases that each city gave to its postwar recovery.

They put into place the basic outline of what postwar modernity meant in each city and how these ideas changed – or did not change – as the decades progressed. Rotterdam’s exhibitions continued to focus on renewal as a hallmark of recovery, whereas exhibitions in Hamburg maintained their focus on industrial and economic productivity, and not on politics or aesthetics, even after the

British left.

Rotterdam’s Destruction:

Chapter One 40

In both Rotterdam and Hamburg wartime destruction was extensive. It took only forty minutes on May 14, 1940, to transform Rotterdam from a bustling port to a “disrupted conglomerate of suburbs, without any real communal centre,” as a 1955 tourist brochure put it.6

The aerial bombardment responsible for the destruction was part of the German invasion of France and the Low Countries, known as Operation Yellow (Fall Gelb) which took place in the spring of

1940. The invasion itself was a surprise for the Dutch government, which was fundamentally unprepared for war. After having managed to stay out of every major European conflict since

1815, the Dutch, perhaps naively, thought that Hitler’s aggression would pass them by as well.7

After all, the Führer had, in numerous public declarations, promised to respect the Netherlands’ independence and policy of neutrality.8 The Dutch Prime Minister, Hendrik Colijn (r. 1925-26,

1933-1939), believed that the Germans would respect Dutch sovereignty.9 In reality, however, the

German High Command had decided early on that the Netherlands would be occupied in the event of war on the western front.10 Hitler agreed that violating both Dutch and Belgian neutrality would protect the industrial Ruhr Valley, and gain bases for a future air-attack on Great Britain. He was also convinced that such a breach of neutrality would be meaningless (bedeutungslos) after

Germany was victorious.11

6 Gemeente Rotterdam, The W.W. Guide to Rotterdam: The New City Gateway to Europe (Baarn: The International Publishing Company Ltd. “The World’s Window,” 1955), 33. 7 The period was not entirely without conflict, however, as the Netherlands experienced revolution in 1830 and 1831 when Belgium declared its independence. J.H.C. Blom and Emiel Lamberts, History of the Low Countries, trans. James C. Kennedy (New York: Berghahn Books, 1999), 301. 8 Max Domarus, Hitler, Reden und Proklamationen, 1932-1945 (Wauconda: Blochazy-Carducci Publishing, 1990), I: 699, 1149; Whitney R. Harris, Tyranny on Trial: The Evidence at Nuremberg (Dallas: Southern Methodist University Press, 1954), 139-140. 9 Louis De Jong, Het Koninkrijk der Nederlanden in de Tweede Wereldoorlog, vol. 1, Voorspel (‘s-Gravenhage: Staatsuitgeverij, 1969), 599, 649. Hendrik Colijn was a member of the Anti-Revolutionary Party (Anti-Revolutionaire Partij, ARP), a centre-right Protestant Christian-Democratic party. 10 Werner Warmbrunn, The Dutch Under German Occupation (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1963), 6; Jan Verseput, “Voorgeschiedenis en verloop van de Duitse aanval op Nederland, speciaal op Rotterdam, in mei 1940,” Rotterdams Jaarboekje, Series 6, Year 9 (1961), pgs. 116-139, here p. 117. 11 Jeremy Noakes and Geoffrey Pridham, Nazism, 1919-1945: Foreign Policy, War, and Racial Extermination (Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 1995), 765; P.J. Grimm, “Opmerkingen bij het bombardement op Rotterdam,” Rotterdams Jaarboekje, Series 10, Year 3 (1995), pgs. 275-290, here, p. 287.

Chapter One 41

On May 14, 1940, four days after the invasion of the Netherlands began and apparently unsatisfied with the speed at which it was progressing, the German Luftwaffe’s Kampfgeschwader

54 released its bombs over the city of Rotterdam.12 More than 100 tons of explosives fell on the city’s centre. Thanks to the wind, the bombardment created a firestorm that destroyed much of the heart of the city. At the end of the day Rotterdam’s historic core, known as the Rotterdam Triangle

(driehoek), was wiped off the map; in its place lay three million cubic meters of rubble and thirty million kilos of tangled steel.13 The devastated area had largely been built during the seventeenth century when Rotterdam was, as Cor Wagenaar put it, one of the “wealthiest cities of the most prosperous nation on earth,” and the area contained some of the most interesting and valuable architecture in the country.14 The exact figures of the destruction, often highlighted in the literature, bear repeating: 24,978 homes, 13 banks, 12 cinemas, 2 theatres, 19 consulates, 4 newspaper printing buildings, 31 factories, 22 leisure buildings, 21 municipal buildings, 19 churches, 10 charities, 517 cafes and lodgings, 31 large stores or magazines, 2320 small stores, 4 federal buildings, 62 schools, 13 hospital buildings, 26 hotels, 1437 offices, 4 stations, 675 warehouses, and various other buildings.15 On March 31, 1943, when the city was under Nazi occupation, it was also subjected to allied bombardments, which destroyed another 3,200 homes in its northern

12 P.J. Grimm, “Opmerkingen bij het bombardement op Rotterdam,” Rotterdams Jaarboekje, Series 10, Year 3 (1995), pgs. 275-290, p. 275. 13 GAR 646_1 (Box 104), “Hoofdschotel? Vlees! Rotterdam imponeert als stad in beweging,” Rotterdamsch Nieuwsblad, May 18, 1965; Cor Wagenaar, “The Inevitability of Progress: Rotterdam and the Fading Image of the City,” in Blessing in Disguise: War and Town Planning in Europe, 1940-1945, eds. Jörn Düwel and Niels Gutschow (Berlin: DOM Publishing, 2013), pgs. 104-129, here pg. 111; Christine Gundermann, Die versöhnten Bürger: Die Zweite Weltkrieg in deutsch-niederländischen Begegnungen 1945-2000 (Münster, Waxmann 2014), 62-63. 14 Cor Wagenaar, “The Inevitability of Progress: Rotterdam and the Fading Image of the City,” in Blessing in Disguise: War and Town Planning in Europe, 1940-1945, eds. Jörn Düwel and Niels Gutschow (Berlin: DOM Publishing, 2013), pgs. 104-129, here pg. 111. 15 GAR 298_279, “Notitie voor den Wethouder van Openbare Werken inzake de verwoesting van de binnenstad.” The document makes a distinction between “insurance” (assurantie-kantoren) (287) and “other” (andere-kantoren) (1150) offices, which I have added up together to get to 1437 office buildings; GAR 298_325, “Verzameling 1946, Rotterdam 29 Maart, 1946, Hoofdstuk I: Overzicht van de verwoesting en van hetgeen in de eerste oorlogsjaren is tot stand gekomen,” 102. The German occupation authorities released a statement with very similar data, the exact numbers seem to have been replaced with rounded figures: GAR 465-01_5, “Zum Wiederaufbau von Rotterdam,” 1-69.

Chapter One 42 and western parts. This brought the total destruction of homes in Rotterdam to 17.2 per cent of the prewar total.16 In all, 850 people lost their lives and over 80,000 were rendered homeless.17 258 hectares of downtown real estate was destroyed: roughly 156 hectares of this had been covered by buildings of various kinds, while 100 hectares had been occupied by streets, squares, and other public spaces.18 The scale of destruction, and the relatively small area to which it was contained, gives a clear impression of just how thorough the obliteration of Rotterdam’s downtown core really was.

With other Dutch cities facing a fate similar to Rotterdam, the Dutch surrendered the following day, on May 15, 1940. Almost immediately after the capitulation, the Nazis commanded the Rotterdam Municipal Technical Service (Gemeentelijke Technische Dienst, GTD) to remove the rubble and clear the streets. The Germans wanted to impose order and a sense of normalcy in the city and as such were concerned with clearing the rubble as soon as possible. To this end, a number of buildings that were only lightly or partially damaged –the construction police

(bouwpolitie) identified 144 such structures– were removed as it would take too much time, energy, and resources to save them.19 In the end only a few buildings, including Rotterdam City

Hall (1920), the main Post Office (1923), the art-nouveau office building called “the White House”

(1897), and the St. Laurens Church (ca.1650) were kept.20

Legally the city was likewise wiped clean. All parcels necessary for the complete and successful reconstruction of Nazi-controlled Rotterdam were expropriated with the passage of

16 28,200 homes out of a prewar estimated 166,750 homes did not survive the war. GAR 298_279: “Notitie voor den Wethouder van Openbare Werken inzake de verwoesting van de binnenstad.” 17 Christoph Strupp, “Stadt Ohne Hertz. Rotterdam und die Erinnerung and den deutschen Luftkrieg vom 14. Mai 1940,” in Luftkrieg. Erinnerungen in Deutschland und Europa, eds. Jörg Arnold, Dietmar Süss, and Malte Thiessen (Göttingen: Wallstein, 2009), pgs. 27-49, here 28. 18 GAR298_279, “Notitie voor den Wethouder van Openbare Werken inzake de verwoesting van de binnenstad.” 19 GAR396_26, “Bouwplan 1946, samengesteld door het College van Algemeene Commissarissen voor den Wederopbouw.” 15. This document classified 144 structures in the downtown area as “repair[able] and minor damage” (herstel en lichte schade). 20 Wouter Vanstiphout, Maak een Stad: Rotterdam en de architectuur van J.H. van den Broek (Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 2005), 124.

Chapter One 43

Decision Reconstruction II, Statute Book No. 0.552 (Besluit Wederopbouw II, Staatsblad no.0.552), under the direction of the Government Commissioner for Reconstruction

(Regeringscommissaris voor de Wederopbouw) Johannes Aleidis Ringers, on May 24, 1940.21

Altogether, this concerned roughly 12,000 parcels of land, with a combined area of 168 hectares.

On top of this were the roughly 628 hectares of unbuilt land outside of the city core which were set aside for future residential and industrial construction.22 Under Ringers’ supervision, the destruction was mostly cleared away by December 1940, and with the creation of the Service for the Reconstruction of Rotterdam (Dienst Wederopbouw Rotterdam, or DIWERO) on December

23, 1940, and the Advisory Board City Plan Rotterdam (Adviesbureau Stadsplan Rotterdam, or

21 Ringers’ full title was “Government Commissioner for the Recovery of Traffic, the Reclamation of Inundations, the Reconstruction of Towns, Villages, and Buildings, and all which is associated therewith” (Regeringscommissaris voor het herstel van het verkeerswezen, de drooglegging van onderwaterzettingen, den wederopbouw van steden, dorpen, en gebouwen, en al hetgeen daarmee samenhangt) GAR 298_323, “De Wederopbouw van Rotterdam,”3. In December 1940 Ringers’ title was changed from “Regeringscommissaris” (Government Commissioner) to “Algemeen Gemachtigde” (Attorney General), to avoid confusion with Arthur Seyss-Inquart’s title, “Reichskommissar” (High Commissioner). Frank Kauffmann, “Naar een ‘modern’ stadscentrum,” in Het Nieuwe Bouwen in Rotterdam 1920- 1960, eds. Willem A. Beeren and Rob Dettingmeijer (Delft: Delft University Press, 1982), 77. Ringers (1885-1965) had been appointed Government Commissioner for Reconstruction by General Henri Winkelman (1876-1952) on May 17, the Dutch Commander-in-Chief officially in charge of the Dutch government after Queen Wilhelmina and her ministers had fled to London. Ringers had only agreed to his appointment because he believed that the war would be short, and that “planned cities were the right way forward.” He was one of the many technocrats of the age. He had studied civil engineering and believed that the future of Rotterdam would be best served by a carefully planned city. He was also a convinced monarchist who, according to his biographer, said that Rotterdam had to prepare for reconstruction for “when the Queen returned, [Rotterdam] must be ready to quickly start with reconstruction.’ He worked with the Nazis because of royal and technocratic convictions, not because he agreed with the Nazi overlords. His resistance against Nazi influence eventually caused him to be arrested in April 1942 and sent to the Sachsenhausen concentration camp, after having spent eight months in jails in Vugt and Scheveningen. He survived the war, and returned to the Netherlands at war’s end, when he was quickly appointed as minister of Public Works and Reconstruction in the first post-war Dutch cabinet. Z.Y. Van Der Meer, “Dr. Ir. J.A. Ringers, 1885-1965,” Rotterdams Jaarboekje Series 07, Year 04 (1966), 276-277. 22 GAR 298_138, “Het nieuwe hart van Rotterdam: toelichting op het basisplan voor den herbouw van de binnenstad van Rotterdam, 1946”, pg. 5; GAR 465-01_5, “Voordracht voor de Afdeling Bouw- en Waterkunde van het Koninkrijk Instituut van Ingenieurs op Vrijdag 19 November 1954, - De Herbouw van Rotterdam, in het bijzonder in verband met de grondexploitatie,” 5. Legal precedent for the passage of Decision Reconstruction II, Statute Book No. 0.552 was provided by the National Housing Act of 1902, which had primarily been designed to stop uncontrolled urban sprawl in the form of slum settlements. Under the act, cities of 10,000 inhabitants or more were required to draw up maps showing streets, squares, and canals along with improvement and expansion plans. The 1902 Act had originally been a project designed by wealthy progressives to protect the value of their property which was being damaged by slum sprawl, but it provided the first major thrust in controlled town planning in the Netherlands. The law also provided for land condemnation and acquisition, paving the way for expropriation after 1940. David K. Runyon, “An Analysis of the rebuilding of Rotterdam after the Bombing on May 14, 1940” MA Thesis, University of Wisconsin, 1969, 118. See also, Rein Blijstra, Town-planning in the Netherlands since 1900 (Amsterdam: Van Kampen, 1965), 10.

Chapter One 44

ASRO) on January 1, 1941, a bureaucratic infrastructure for Rotterdam’s reconstruction was also put in place. 23

Early Conceptions of Postwar Rotterdam:

The first reconstruction plans for Rotterdam were drafted under Nazi occupation. Because the Nazis foresaw an important role for the city in the peacetime Reich, they had a vested interest in its future well-being and initially appeared quite happy to work together with the Dutch on rebuilding plans.24 However, this did not mean that the two sides agreed; Dutch officials did not want to rebuild in the monumental fascist style associated with the Nazis, while Nazi officials did not want a reconstructed Rotterdam to be a competitive threat to German ports like Hamburg and

Bremen.25 On May 18, 1940, a mere four days after the bombardment, Johannes Ringers tasked

Willem Gerrit Witteveen, the director of the GTD and after January 1941 also the Director of

ASRO, with drafting a postwar reconstruction plan for the city.26 Witteveen was a typical technocrat and not especially sympathetic to the Nazis. He was born in Deventer in 1891 and had studied civil engineering.27 After a brief stint with the national railways (Nederlandse Spoorwegen,

NS), he started working for the city of Rotterdam in 1924 as the head of City Expansion and

Buildings (Stadsuitbreiding en Gebouwen). In 1926, he was promoted to City Architect and Head of City Development (Stadsontwikkeling).28 While very successful, his biographer, Noor Mens, highlights that in the 1930s he became frustrated with the fact that he could not push through substantial changes to Rotterdam’s urban fabric.29 In 1939 he was appointed the Director of the

23 Both organizations fell under Ringers’ direct supervision. GAR 298_318, Memo “Wederopbouw van Rotterdam,” 21 January 1941, pg. 2; GAR 298_ 321, “Persconferentie op Woensdag 22 Januari 1941.” 24 Ian Buruma, Year Zero: A History of 1945 (London: Atlantic Books, 2014), 256-257. 25 Ibid. 26 Vanstiphout, Maak een Stad, 124. 27 G.S. Bos, “Ir. W.G. Witteveen,” Rotterdams Jaarboekje, Series 08, Year 08 (1980), 128-129. 28 Ibid., 129. 29 Noor Mens, W.G.Witteveen en Rotterdam (Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 2007), especially pgs. 100-122.

Chapter One 45

GTD, the role wherein, a little over a year later, he became responsible for drafting the city’s first postwar plans.30 Legend has it that he stood in his backyard in the Rotterdam neighbourhood of

Kralingen, watching the bombs fall on the city in May 1940, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of redesigning the city in the thorough manner he had always envisioned.31

The “ASRO-Reconstruction Plan” (ASRO-Wederopbouwplan), more colloquially known as the “Witteveen Plan,” built on Witteveen’s prewar city designs. It could thus be completed with astounding speed; While the full plan was not completed until 1941, Witteveen had the broad framework ready in less than a month.32 Surprisingly, Witteveen’s plan for Rotterdam’s redevelopment was quite conservative, as he changed relatively little about the city’s overall layout, preserving the historic triangle and only making small readjustments that he considered necessary to provide space for the increasingly prominent automobile.33 Moreover, it appears that the Nazis did not interfere in Witteveen’s reconstruction work as, in the words of Cor Wagenaar, the plans “show[ed] no traces of the type of design usually associated with Nazism.”34 Records from ASRO confirm that the Germans did not meddle with Witteveen’s plans for the city, although the Nazi head of the civilian administration in the Netherlands, Arthur Seyss-Inquart, did ultimately have to sign off on them.35

30 G.S. Bos, “Ir. W.G. Witteveen,” 134. 31 Cor Wagenaar, “The Inevitability of Progress: Rotterdam and the Fading Image of the City,” in Blessing in Disguise: War and Town Planning in Europe, 1940-1945, eds. Jörn Düwel and Niels Gutschow (Berlin: DOM Publishing, 2013), pgs. 104-129, here pg. 107. It should be noted that Witteveen’s eventual reconstruction plan was quite conservative and quite true to the ‘old’ Rotterdam, calling this rumour into question. 32 It should also be noted that Witteveen just designed the overall layout and city plan. Individual areas of the city and specific buildings for each area were not designed by Witteveen. Instead, he divided the city up into twelve different sections and assigned an architect to be responsible for each of these sections. For more on this, see: GAR 298_155: “Afschrift: Regeling van het Architectonische Gedeelte van den Wederopbouw van Rotterdam,” 4. See also: GAR 298_155, “Memo from GTD to ASRO, February 20, 1941.” 33 GAR 298_323, “De Wederopbouw van Rotterdam,” 2; GAR 298_323, “Het Opbouwplan van Rotterdam in het Museum Boymans 1941, Toelichting van Ir. W.G. Witteveen,” 3. 34 Cor Wagenaar, “The Inevitability of Progress: Rotterdam and the Fading Image of the City,” in Blessing in Disguise: War and Town Planning in Europe, 1940-1945, eds. Jörn Düwel and Niels Gutschow (Berlin: DOM Publishing, 2013), pgs. 104-129, here pg. 107. 35 Arthur Seyss-Inquart, was personally appointed by Hitler as the High Commissioner of the Occupied Netherlands (Reichskommissar für die besetzten niederländischen Gebiete). In this role, he acted as the supreme civilian authority in the Netherlands. See: Werner Warmbrunn, The Dutch under German Occupation (Stanford: Stanford University

Chapter One 46

On June 21, 1940, Witteveen presented his proposals to a commission of Rotterdam municipal officials and Nazi officers, including Seyss-Inquart, at Rotterdam’s City Hall. The Nazis were pleased and approved the plans the same day.36 Witteveen’s ideas for reconstruction suited their purposes for two important reasons: while the overall plans were quite conservative, they allowed for enough improvements to make the city more economically viable in the future, but not to such an extent that Rotterdam’s modernization could threaten German ports once peace returned to Europe. The modest modernization had the ancillary benefit to the Nazis of making it seem as if the occupiers had exerted no influence on the final design of the city. This was important because, at least in the early days of the occupation, the Nazis desired to maintain amicable relations with the Dutch. Werner Warmbrunn has argued that Hitler was driven by a romantic- historical vision of a new “Holy Germanic Empire of the German Nation,” where the (in Hitler’s mind) racially superior Aryan Norwegians, Danes, Dutch, and Flemings would be united under

Nazi leadership.37 This meant that the Netherlands enjoyed a special status (Sonderstellung) within the Nazi sphere based on racial ideology.38 In a connected, but distinct argument, Mark Mazower stated that the Germans were relatively friendly in the early days because the Netherlands was a colonial power, and Hitler was anxious about the Dutch colonies breaking away upon the German invasion of the metropole. “Without a big enough fleet of his own to secure [the colonies],”

Mazower wrote, Hitler “had to treat the Dutch relatively gently.”39 Whatever the reason, the desire

Press, 1963), 27. Absence of German intervention: GAR 298_323, “De Wederopbouw van Rotterdam,” 2; Seyss- Inquart’s approval of the project: GAR 465-01_5, “Verordnung Nr. 21/1940;” GAR 298_318, clipped newspaper article: “Ir. Witteveen over zijn plan tot herbouw van Rotterdam’s centrum,” Het Volk: Dagblad voor de Arbeiderspartij, Wednesday June 26, 1940, 8. 36 GAR 465-01_5, Archief Openbare Werken Gemeente Rotterdam, “Verordnung Nr. 21/1940;” GAR 298_318, clipped newspaper article: “Ir. Witteveen over zijn plan tot herbouw van Rotterdam’s centrum,” Het Volk: Dagblad voor de Arbeiderspartij, Wednesday June 26, 1940, 8. 37 Werner Rings, Life with the Enemy: Collaboration and Resistance in Hitler’s Europe 1939-1945 (Garden City, NY: Doubleday & Company, 1982), 22; Ivo Schöffer, Het Nationaal-socialistische Beeld van de Geschiedenis der Nederlanden: Een Historiografische en Bibliografische Studie (Utrecht: Hes Publishers, 1978), 90. 38 Gerhard Hirschfeld, Nazi Rule and Dutch Collaboration: The Netherlands under German Occupation, 1940-1945 (Oxford: Berg, 1988), 4. 39 Mark Mazower, Hitler’s Empire: Nazi Rule in Occupied Europe (New York: Penguin Books, 2013), 105-106.

Chapter One 47 for a good relationship ensured that the occupation was initially relatively mild by Nazi standards and occasionally even friendly.40 This was also the reason why the Nazis wanted Rotterdam to be cleaned up so rapidly, as the rubble was a reminder of German aggression and thus not in their interest in the long-term. When it came to Rotterdam’s reconstruction plans, then, the Nazi overlords had a vested interest in at least giving the process a semblance of Dutch autonomy.

Witteveen’s relatively traditional reconstruction plan can thus be interpreted in a variety of ways. On the one hand, its style can be seen as a form of Dutch resistance. As J.E. Postma has argued about Middelburg, which was also badly damaged during the invasion of the Netherlands,

“the Germans… saw [traditional reconstruction] as a move away from British traditions or ‘ein

Brennpunkt des Reichsgedankes,’ while to the central reconstruction office… reconstruction in the best Dutch tradition was a gesture of resistance.”41 Witteveen’s traditionalist approach thus not only suited German interests but also expressed Dutch nationalist concerns. Reconstruction in a traditionalist Dutch way was, to the Dutch, a form of resistance, while to the Nazis it dovetailed with the desire for the removal of “corrupting” international influences, particularly that of the

International Congress of Modern Architecture (CIAM).42 For these differing reasons, both the

Dutch and the Germans were quite happy with the style of Witteveen’s initial reconstruction plans.

40 Paul Arblaster, A History of the Low Countries (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006), 222. 41 GAR 298_316, “De Wederopbouw in Nederland: Voordrachten, gehouden voor het Koninklijk Instituut van Ingenieurs in samenwerking met het Instituut voor Volkshuisvesting en Stedebouw, op 28 Okotber 1940 te ‘s- Gravenhage.” For a great article on the traditionalist rebuilding of Middelburg, see J.E. Bosma, “Planning the Impossible: History as Fundament of the Future – the Reconstruction of Middelburg, 1940-4” in Rebuilding Europe’s Bombed Cities, ed. Jeffry Diefendorf (London: Macmillan Press, 1990), 64-76. 42 The CIAM was an international body of architects, which included big names such as Le Corbusier, Frank Lloyd Wright, Walter Gropius, Mies van der Rohe, Ernst May, and H.P. Berlage. The organization reflected some of the main paradigms of planning during the interwar period and immediate postwar decades (~1928-1959). Although its theories and ideologies were as wide-ranging as their membership, they were heavily influenced by interwar architectural movements such as the Bauhaus and De Stijl, which the Nazis considered decadent and corrupted by socialist and Jewish influences. For more, see the excellent works of Eric Mumford: The CIAM Discourse on Urbanism,1928-1960 (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2000); and Defining Urban Design: CIAM Architects and the Formation of a Discipline, 1937-69 (Yale University Press, 2009).

Chapter One 48

The organization of the exhibition The Netherlands Builds in Brick, 1800-1940 (Nederland

Bouwt in Baksteen, 1800-1940) in the summer of 1941, clearly highlighted the importance the

Nazis placed on public perception and underscored the narrative that Rotterdam would be rebuilt along Dutch wishes and without German interference. Cleverly, the event’s main focus was a history of Dutch architecture, as represented in watercolours, models, and photos, which emphasized the Nazis’ message that Rotterdam’s reconstruction would continue in the tradition of

Dutch architecture.43 The exhibition was expansive: more than twenty rooms were taken up by maps, photos, models, and other items, and no less than eighty architects submitted photos of their

“best examples of Dutch brick architecture.”44 Also included were reconstruction plans of various

Dutch cities, including Middelburg, Rhenen, and Zevenbergen.45 Rotterdam’s plans were added in the late summer of 1941.46 The displays featured colourful maps, with a large model of the new city erected in the centre of the room and offered for public viewing.47 As a local newspaper reported, “[t]hose who wish to remain informed of the changes that have occurred downtown or are in their preparatory stages, can, with help of the model, easily orient themselves and discover how the reconstruction prescribed building height varies and how it is in harmony with the width

43 “Nederland Bouwt in Baksteen,” Algemeen Handelsblad, December 7, 1941; “Nederland Bouwt in Baksteen: Een architectonische waarheid royaal geïllustreerd,” De Telegraaf, August 8, 1941; “Nederland Bouwt in Baksteen,” Algemeen Handelsblad, October 7, 1941; Frank Kauffmann, “Naar een ‘modern’ stadscentrum,” in Het Nieuwe Bouwen in Rotterdam 1920-1960, eds. Willem A. Beeren and Rob Dettingmeijer (Delft: Delft University Press, 1982), 78. 44 “‘Nederland Bouwt in Baksteen’ Zomertentoonstelling in het Museum Boymans, Haagsche Courant, July 8, 1941. 45 “Nederland Bouwt in Bakteen,” De Tijd: Godsdienstig-Staatkundig Daglad, August 3, 1941; “‘Nederland Bouwt in Baksteen’ in Museum Boymans, Haagsche Courant, July 25, 1941; “Nederland Bouwt in Baksteen,” Algemeen Handelsblad, August 3, 1941, Pg. 5; “Nederland Bouwt in Baksteen: Opbouwplannen,” De Banier: Staatkundig Gereformeerd Dagblad, August 4, 1941, pg. 5. 46 The historical record is unclear when the Rotterdam model was added: Witteveen article in Rotterdams Jaarboekje states that it was only added after October 25, 1941. W.G. Witteveen, “Beknopt overzicht van de voornaamste openbare werken in 1940 en 1941 voorbereid en uitgevoerd door den gemeentelijken technischen dienst en door particulieren,” Rotterdams Jaarboekje, Reels 04, Year 10, 1942, xlv. Other newspapers report the exhibit opening earlier, on Ocotber 5: “De Maquette van Rotterdam,” in De Tijd: godsdienstig-staatkunding dagblad, Sunday October 5, 1941. 47 Tentoonstelling van de Maquette Nieuw Rotterdam. Produced by Polygoon-Profilti. 0 minutes, 50 seconds. Netherlands Institute for Sound and Vision, 1941. A video of the event can be seen here: http://openbeelden.nl/media/521/Tentoonstelling_van_de_maquette__nieuw_rotterdam_

Chapter One 49 of boulevards and streets.”48 The exhibit featured large maps on a 1:5000 scale indicating what

Rotterdam looked like before May 1940, as well as maps indicating the destroyed area and expropriated buildings, all in an effort to demonstrate how much preparatory work had already been accomplished.49

Strikingly, the exhibition was successful in terms of attendance. Local newspapers reported that over 10,000 people had visited by August, and over 40,000 by December 1941.50 Yet despite such impressive visitor numbers, Witteveen’s plan quickly lost favour and almost nothing of his plans ultimately materialized. Less than six months after the end of the exhibition, on July 1, 1942, the Nazis announced the bouwstop, which halted any construction projects other than those deemed necessary for the military. 51 Manpower and material resources were instead redirected to the war effort, and many Dutch men of working age were forcibly sent to Germany to work in factories. The bouwstop basically paralyzed the construction industry in its entirety, with the result that the city of Rotterdam remained essentially empty of new construction until well after the end of the war.52

There was also significant pushback against the Witteveen Plan from the Rotterdam business community, which deemed it too conservative. The core of the resistance came from the

48 GAR 298_318, “Nieuwe Maquette van Rotterdam”, Rotterdamsch Nieuwsblad, date unknown – presumably around January 1941. 49 Ibid. 50 “Nederland Bouwt in Baksteen,” Het Vaderland: Staat- en Letterkundig Nieuwsblad, 22 August, 1941; “Nederland Bouwt in Baksteen,” Rotterdamsch Nieuwsblad, December 6, 1941; “Nederland Bouwt in Baksteen,” Algemeen Handelsblad, December 7, 1941. 51 M.D. Bogaarts, Parlementaire Geschiedenis van Nederland na 1945: Deel II: De Periode van het kabinet-Beel, 3 juli 1946 – 7 augustus 1948 (Nijmegen: Gerard Noodt Instituut, 1996), Band D, Tweede Helft, A, 3747. 52 GAR 298_318, “Nota Inzake Wederopbouw,” 3. (A few public projects were indeed completed: a canal connecting the River Rotte and the Delftse Vaart, a new bridge over the Lombardkade, as well as the Wereldhaven Building on the Goudsesingel (Paul van der Laar, Stad van Formaat: Geschiedenis van Rotterdam in de negentiende en twintigste eeuw (Zwolle: Waanders, 2007), 456). Privately, only three companies – Firm Piet van Reeuwijk, the Rotterdamsche Bank, and the Rotterdamsche Nieuwsblad – had been able to start reconstruction before the construction stop (bouwstop) of 1942. GAR, #465-01_5, “Voordracht voor de Afdeling Bouw- en Waterbouwkunde van het Koninklijk Instituut van Ingenieurs op Vrijdag 19 November 1954: De Herbouw van Rotterdam, in het bijzonder in verband met de Grondexploitatie,” 11.

Chapter One 50

Rotterdam Chamber of Commerce and the so-called “Club Rotterdam,” which was made up of prominent industrial entrepreneurs and merchants and led by Cees H. van der Leeuw, the director of the powerful Van Nelle Coffee, Tea, and Tobacco Company.53 “Club Rotterdam” was not an official government body, but its individual members were highly influential in local politics.54

“Club Rotterdam” disliked Witteveen’s plan for the same reason the Nazis liked it: Rotterdam’s minimal modernization would make it economically viable but inferior to German ports. The group instead envisioned Rotterdam’s postwar future as one of the leading metropolises in Western

Europe. As a group, they wanted the city’s reconstruction plan to reflect the economic interests of the local business elites and the cultural concerns of the wider community.55 None of the members were architects or city planners, however, and they could offer no specific suggestions as to what an alternative reconstruction plan might look like. Instead, they pointed to other cities as examples, especially New York. Many of the group’s members had personal and business connections in the

United States stemming from the 1920s and 1930s, and they saw America, and particularly New

York City, as the model of urban modernity. Accordingly, the group, as Willem Frijhoff put it,

“aspired to the redevelopment of Rotterdam as a metropolis similar to its transatlantic twin city.”56

The criticism expressed by “Club Rotterdam” might have remained just that, if it had not been for Van der Leeuw’s appointment as J.A. Ringers successor in 1944. The appointment gave the Rotterdam business community extraordinary influence on the future course of the city’s recovery. Because none of the members of “Club Rotterdam” had any formal training in city planning, Van der Leeuw assembled a team of experts to form the Rotterdam Construction

Committee (Commissie Opbouw Rotterdam, OPRO), “an independent body charged with

53 Willem Frijhoff, “Physical Space, Urban Space, Civic Space,” 39-40. 54 Henk Ovink, and Elien Wierenga, Ontwerp en Politiek (Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 2009), 60. 55 Ibid., 61. 56 Willem Frijhoff, “Physical Space, Urban Space, Civic Space.” 39-40.

Chapter One 51 proposing modifications to Witteveen’s plan.”57 According to historian Wouter Vanstiphout, the idea of OPRO was to counter the complaint that the business community criticized Witteveen’s plans without offering any solutions.58 OPRO, which was basically a shadow-version of ASRO, was made up of some of the most renowned figures in Dutch architecture and planning: Johannes

Hendrik van den Broek, Pieter Verhagen, Willem van Tijen, and Cornelis van Eesteren, among others. These experts had impressive résumés and wide-ranging experience as architects and planners. Pieter Verhagen (1882-1950) had worked with Granpré Molière, arguably the most influential Dutch Garden City planner, and in the 1930s had designed suburban housing developments in cities across the country.59 Willem van Tijen (1894-1974) and Cornelis van

Eesteren (1897-1988) had made names for themselves internationally through the International

Congress of Modern Architecture (CIAM), with Van Eesteren serving as its chairman from 1930 to 1947.60

While Van der Leeuw assembled his esteemed team of architectural experts to amend

Witteveen’s reconstruction plans, Witteveen himself, frustrated and overworked, took sick leave in mid-1944 and officially quit his job on January 1, 1945.61 He was replaced by his deputy, the relatively inexperienced Cornelis van Traa (1899-1970). While as the Director of ASRO, Van Traa was officially in charge of Rotterdam’s reconstruction, he was fed ideas and suggestions for his reconstruction plans by OPRO.62 While “Club Rotterdam” initially set out to amend and adapt

Witteveen’s plan, the decision was ultimately made to abandon it altogether and draft a completely new master plan for Rotterdam’s reconstruction. The resulting Basic Plan (Basis Plan) of 1946

57 Ovink and Wierenga, Ontwerp en Politiek, 61; Vanstiphout, 147. 58 Vanstiphout, 147. 59 Marinke Steenhuis, Stedenbouw in het Landschap: Pieter Verhagen (1882-1950) (Rotterdam: NAi Uitgevers, 2007). 60 Mumford, The CIAM Discourse on Urbanism,1928-1960, 18; Kees Somer, The Functional City: The CIAM and Cornelis van Eesteren, 1928-1960 (Rotterdam: NAi Uitgevers, 2007). 61 Frank Kauffmann, “Naar een ‘modern’ stadscentrum,” in Het Nieuwe Bouwen in Rotterdam 1920-1960, eds. Willem A. Beeren and Rob Dettingmeijer (Delft: Delft University Press, 1982), 79. 62 Ovink and Wierenga, Ontwerp en Politiek, 62.

Chapter One 52 was heavily influenced by OPRO and largely modeled after urban planning ideals promulgated by the CIAM, with massive thoroughfares, segregation of functions, and wide-open spaces throughout the city.63 A 1955 tourist brochure made the contrast clear: “The old city centre of

Rotterdam was a higgledy-piggledy place, with buildings designed and erected in a haphazard manner. In contrast, its successor is, as an American journalist once put it, ‘a spacious, airy complex of carefully zoned buildings designed for a city devoted to commerce and industry.’”64

Rotterdam was in many ways the perfect arena in which to realize Van Traa’s more radical and modern reconstruction plans. The bombardment and the subsequent fire, followed by the physical removal of rubble and the legal expropriation of downtown plots, had produced a city core that was completely empty, without history or memory.65 Furthermore, the bombardment of

Rotterdam had turned the city into a symbol of the cruelty of the German occupation at large, and reconstruction along radically new and modern lines was seen as the perfect testament to the creation of a new and modern postwar Netherlands.66 Because of its symbolic status and thorough approach to reconstruction, Rotterdam received much international attention for its recovery, its radical architectural designs, and its overall “exemplary reconstruction.” Noted architectural critic

Lewis Mumford noted in 1957 that Rotterdam was “the one city in Europe that has turned the disasters of war and occupation into a triumph.”67

Exhibiting the Postwar City:

63 Frijhoff, “Physical Space, Urban Space, Civic Space,” 41. 64 Gemeente Rotterdam, The W.W. Guide to Rotterdam: The New City Gateway to Europe (Baarn: The International Publishing Company Ltd. “The World’s Window, 1955), 34; GAR, 317_219, “The story of Rotterdam: The City of Today and Tomorrow,” 31 65 Schuyt and Taverne, Prosperity and Welfare, 21. 66 Schuyt and Taverne, Prosperity and Welfare, 35. 67 Lewis Mumford, “A Walk Through Rotterdam,” The New Yorker, October 1957, 174.

Chapter One 53

Three exhibitions were organized in Rotterdam between 1947 and 1950 to promote Van

Traa’s Basic Plan of 1946. The content of the exhibitions was heavily influenced by members of the Rotterdam Chamber of Commerce and “Club Rotterdam.” Accordingly, and unsurprisingly, all three exhibitions touted the virtues of Rotterdam’s postwar urban future as envisioned by the city’s political and business elites. One of the main players in the early promotion of the Basic

Plan and later in Rotterdam’s postwar exhibitions, was Karel Paul van der Mandele (1880-1975), the president of the Rotterdam Chamber of Commerce between 1938 and 1960.68 As the representative of the city’s industrial and business community, he had tremendous power and influence. Historian Patricia van Ulzen noted that “[n]othing happened in Rotterdam that Van der

Mandele was not involved with, if not in his professional role, then through one of the seventy social-cultural organizations that he had established.”69

Van der Mandele, or K.P., as he was known to friends, was born into a prominent banking family in Delft and studied law before briefly working as a lawyer in The Hague. He entered the world of finance in 1910 when he, at the insistence of his uncle, became the Director of the

Rotterdamsche Bank. 70 As president of the Chamber of Commerce between 1938 and 1960, his role during the German occupation was controversial. Some, including historian Louis de Jong, have been critical of Van der Mandele, pointing to his economic collaboration with the Germans.71

Indeed, during the war, Van der Mandele was a member of the National Committee for Economic

Cooperation (Nationaal Comité voor Economische Samenwerking),72 which sought to smooth

68 For a biography, see Chapter Two. 69 Patricia van Ulzen, “Land van Hoboken: Museumpark in Wording,” in Interbellum Rotterdam; Kunst en Cultuur 1918-1940, eds. Marlite Halbertsma and Patricia van Ulzen (Rotterdam: NAI Uitgevers, 2001), pgs. 147-178, here pg. 156. 70 Ibid. 71 Louis de Jong wrote Het Koninkrijk der Nederlanden in de Tweede Wereldoorlog, a 14 volume work published in 29 parts, on the history of the Netherlands during the Second World War. It was commissioned by the Dutch Ministry of Education in 1955 and was published between 1969 and 1991. Although not without criticism, it is considered to be the standard reference work for the history of the Netherlands during the war. 72 Louis de Jong, Het Koninkrijk der Nederlanden in de Tweede Wereldoorlog, Deel 4, Eerste Helft, Mei’40-Maart’41 (Den Haag: Staatsuitgeverij, 1972), 385-6; Gerardus C. J. Kuys, De Vrees voor wat Niet Kwam: Nieuwe

Chapter One 54 economic relations between the Netherlands and Nazi Germany, and the Waltersom Commission

(Commissie Waltersom) which organized businesses and employment within the country so as to serve Nazi (forced) labour requirements.73 In an interview after the war, the pro-German Dutch banker H.C. van Maasdijk pointed out that Van der Mandele recognized “the need for the

Netherlands to face a period of strong German influence in Western Europe, and [the need] to adjust the country accordingly.”74 Others, including Van der Mandele’s biographer A.J. Teychiné, have been more positive about his role, insisting that that he stayed on as head of the Chamber of

Commerce to prevent the powerful position from falling into the hands of a radical National

Socialist.75 This explanation, which Van der Mandele himself also offered on May 14, 1945, a few days after liberation, appeared to have appeased most, as Van der Mandele emerged from the war one of the most central figures in the postwar promotion and recovery of Rotterdam.76

The other critical figure in the early days of Rotterdam’s postwar exhibitions was the city’s mayor, Pieter J. Oud.77 Oud became mayor of Rotterdam in 1938, but was removed from his post in 1941 and replaced with the National Socialist Frederick Ernst Müller. As mayors in the

Netherlands are appointed by the Crown (Queen-in-council), Oud was re-appointed to his position after Müller’s removal in May of 1945, and he served as Rotterdam’s mayor until 1952.78 Oud and

arbeidsverhoudingen in Nederland 1935-1945, aan het voorbeeld van de Twentste textielindustrie (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2010), 463. 73 Louis de Jong, Het Koninkrijk der Nederlanden in de Tweede Wereldoorlog, Deel 4, Eerste Helft, Mei’40-Maart’41 (Den Haag: Staatsuitgeverij, 1972), 384-6. 74 “…de noozaak voor Nederland om een periode van sterke Duiste invloed in West-Europa onder ogen te zien en er het land op in te stellen.” Louis de Jong, Het Koninkrijk der Nederlanden in de Tweede Wereldoorlog, Deel 4, Eerste Helft, Mei’40-Maart’41 (Den Haag: Staatsuitgeverij, 1972), 384; See also Louis de Jong, Het Koninkrijk der Nederlanden in de Tweede Wereldoorlog, Deel 7, Eerste Helft, Mei’43-Juni’44 (Den Haag: Staatsuitgeverij, 1976), 21. 75 A.J. Teychiné, Beeld en Beeldenaar: Rotterdam en Mr. K.P. van der Mandele (Rotterdam: A.D. Donker, 1979), 128-135. 76 Ibid., 134. 77 Mayor Oud was the older brother to Jacobus Johannes Pieter Oud, the famous Dutch architect. For more, see: Ed Taverne, Cor Wagenaar, and Martien de Vietter, Poetic Functionalist: J.J.P. Oud, 1890-1963: The Complete Works (Rotterdam: NAi Publishers, 2001). 78 In the Netherlands a mayor is proposed by the Minister of the Interior and Kingdom Affairs (before 1998 just Minister of the Interior) based on suggestions of Municipal Council (which is elected; every 4 years) of the City in question and confirmed by the cabinet (Second Chamber) for a period of 6 years.

Chapter One 55

Van der Mandele had a fruitful relationship; the two men met just a day after the bombardment of

May 14, 1940, to discuss the future of the city and they carried on a correspondence throughout the war, conversing about a great variety of topics, from the future of Rotterdam, to the role of the

Nazis, and the fate of the Dutch monarchy.79 After the war, the men organized Rotterdam’s early museum exhibitions, and the annual Construction Day, as well as Rotterdam’s first major international festival: Ahoy’. As Floris Paalman has suggested, Oud and Van der Mandele together formed a dynamic duo that shaped Rotterdam’s postwar recovery.80

The first event introduced by Oud and Van der Mandele to promote Rotterdam’s postwar recovery was the annual holiday Construction Day (Opbouwdag).81 The event’s date, on May 18

(unless that fell on a Sunday, in which case it was celebrated the previous Saturday), was symbolic; it was the day on which Witteveen had first received instructions to draft proposals for Rotterdam’s reconstruction. This ended up being a bit incongruous since Witteveen’s actual influence on the final 1946 Basic Plan was negligible, yet the event was sensitive to Rotterdam’s history. The bombardment and resulting emptiness, along with five years of occupation under increasingly difficult circumstances, meant that Rotterdam’s citizenry was not only eager for physical reconstruction, but was desperate for a message of hope and optimism. Construction Day delivered on this. It served as a marker of progress and placed the emphasis on positivity, entertainment, and education. On the first Construction Day in 1947, scaffolding was placed around the battered St.

Laurens Church, construction commenced on the Wholesale Building on the Weena, and the 500th citizen moved into a house in the newly finished Carnisser Neighbourhood in the Rotterdam quarter of Charlois, south of the river. This first Construction Day set a pattern for its future

79 Pieter Jacobus Oud, http://www.parlement.com/id/vg09ll3yhtz9/p_j_pieter_oud (Accessed November 13, 2016). 80 Floris Paalman, Cinematic Rotterdam: The Times and Tides of a Modern City (Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 2011), 212. 81 Sometimes also referred to as “Wederopbouwdag,” or “Reconstruction Day.” “Het Debat over de Wederopbouw,” Rotterdam Bouwt: Het Maandblad Gewijd aan de Wederopbouw van Rotterdam, July 1947, 9.

Chapter One 56 incarnations, which from that point forward was marked by a wide variety of events, ranging from the laying of ceremonial first stones, to the official dedication of large reconstruction projects.

Until the last Construction Day in 1970, the opening of high profile buildings happened on this annual holiday: Bouwcentrum (1949), Heliport (1953), Central Station (1957), and De Doelen

Conference Centre (1966). The day also often coincided with the opening of special exhibitions related to reconstruction, which variously featured public readings or lectures free of charge.82

By marking physical construction progress, Construction Day traded on celebrations of an anticipated radiant future. This was important, as by 1947, in the words of Tony Judt, “the mood of the continent swung from relief at the mere prospect of peace and a fresh start, to stony resignation and growing disillusion in the face of the magnitude of the tasks still ahead.”83 Europe was not recovering as quickly as was hoped, and the reality of peace was no longer enough to keep up public morale. To make matters worse, the winter of 1946-1947 was one of the worst on record; covered in snow and ice, Western Europe froze to a standstill and industrial production declined once again. When winter finally ended and the snow melted, floods followed. The subsequent summer was one of the hottest and driest Europe ever experienced, resulting in harvest failures for a third year in a row.84 It was against this dire background that exhibitions sought to lift public spirits and build excitement for the future. Robert W. Rydell noted that millions of Americans had visited exhibitions during the great depression, “firing the imaginations of countless ordinary

Americans…” and providing a lift “just when the future seemed so bleak.”85 Van der Mandele and

82 To this end the city also published booklets to engage the public with reconstruction. For example, J.Ph. Backx, “De Opbouw van Rotterdam,” in Hoe Bouwen Wij Rotterdam, #1, Rotterdam: Rotterdamse Gemeenschap, 1945; Herman Kraaijvanger, “Hoe Zal Rotterdam Bouwen” in Hoe Bouwen Wij Rotterdam, #2, Rotterdam: Rotterdamse Gemeenschap, 1945. 83 Judt, Postwar, 86. 84 Ibid. 85 Rydell specifically mentions the 1933-34 Chicago Century of Progress Exposition, the 1935-36 San Diego California Pacific Exposition, the 1936 Dallas Texas Centennial Exposition, the 1937 Cleveland Great Lakes and International Exposition, the 1939-140 San Francisco Golden Gate International Exposition, and the 1939-40 New York Worlds’ Fair. Robert W. Rydell, World of Fairs: The Century of Progress Expositions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993), 1.

Chapter One 57

Oud hoped that exhibitions in Rotterdam would have similar effects, presenting a vision of a radically new urban future in an attempt to create excitement for what lay ahead.

Rotterdam’s first official postwar exhibition, Rotterdam Soon (Rotterdam Straks), opened on Construction Day 1947.86 Under the direction of Oud and Van der Mandele, the exhibition was organized by Rein Fledderus, a well-known local architect. Held in the Boymans Museum in

Museumpark, near where three out of the four large postwar exhibition festivals would also be organized, the exhibition emphasized the city’s future. It focused on the development and execution of Van Traa’s Basic Plan, which had been adopted by the Rotterdam City Council in the previous year. The Basic Plan was conveyed through maps, photos, and models. It displayed a radical embrace of modernism: sharp segregation of urban functions with dedicated spaces for automobiles, bicycles, and pedestrians, high-rise buildings, and a general shift of people to the suburbs, reserving the downtown area for leisure and business. Rotterdam Soon aimed to make these prescriptions of the Basic Plan seem like common sense: how could anyone not like such beauty, progress, and prosperity? As indicated by the aforementioned visitor who thought he might be Moses, the exhibition inspired awe in some. To remind visitors that Rotterdam Soon was not a fantasy but instead a plan for what would soon be delivered by the city’s elites, a wall-inscription near the show’s entrance reminded visitors that “this is a basic plan, not a dream.”87

Part of the exhibition’s appeal lay in the cinematic quality of its displays. The magazine

Rotterdam Bouwt noted that it had “a good script, dandy cinematography, and a refined assembly.”88 Part of the exhibition was dedicated to the destruction Rotterdam had suffered,

86 Many pictures of exhibits at “Rotterdam Straks” can be found in Het Nieuwe Bouwen in Rotterdam, 1940-1960, pgs. 99-101. 87 “Dit is een basisplan, geen droom,” “Ons Programma voor Nu and Straks: Een overzichtelijke bespreking van de tentoonstelling in Museum Boymans,” Rotterdam Bouwt: Het Maandblad Gewijd aan de Wederopbouw van Rotterdam, July 1947, 2. 88 Ibid.

Chapter One 58 displayed via aerial photographs of the city core before and after the bombardment.89 This section contrasted the past (and in some cases the present) with the radiant future the Plan promised. It was followed by a section that highlighted the material necessary for successful urban reconstruction, displayed in impressive arrays of statistics, figures, and numbers.90 Finally, there was a section focused squarely on the future, which was brought to life by a combination of maps, models, drawings, and photographs. Here the new Rotterdam appeared breathtaking, a far cry from the dense and congested prewar city or the bleak and depressing emptiness that still characterized the downtown in 1947.91 Some of the displays –for example a drawing that depicted the new multi- level intersection of the Meuse Bridge (Maasbrug) at Beurs, where it connected with the

Oostdorpplein and the Van Hogendorpsplein– were not of approved plans, and these projects ultimately did not materialize. As the inscription near the drawing stated, this project was still being “studied.” It did not matter. The picture of the multistory intersection – approved or not – was excellently suited to sell what the new Rotterdam was symbolically all about.92 It indicated the direction of the city envisioned by planners and politicians, and it was sold to the public through a sense of hope and excitement for the future.

Rotterdam Soon highlighted two models: the first an unnamed shopping area between the

Coolsingel and the Westersingel (this would become the Lijnbaan), and the second an impressive

1:100 scale model of the Coolsingel itself.93 The first model underscored the pioneering nature of

89 GAR 298_322, Correspondence between Heer Vink and Van Traa, nr.4264 sw/vr, February 10, 1948. 90 “Het Haven Herstel, Voorjaar 1945 – Voorjaar 1948,” Rotterdam Bouwt: Het Maandblad Gewijd aan de Wederopbouw van Rotterdam, April-Mei, 1948, 10. 91 GAR 298_325, Letter from Van Traa to Dhr. Vink, 10 February 1948. Some of the photos included aerial photography, taken by KLM. 92 “Het Nieuwe Plan voor de Coolsingel,” Rotterdam Bouwt: Maandblad voor de Wederopbouw van Rotterdam, No.3, July 1947, pgs. 8-10, here pg. 8. 93 The Coolsingel is postwar Rotterdam’s most important thoroughfare. It runs north-south through the heart of the city and is home to many of Rotterdam’s most famous buildings, including the City Hall, the old Post Office, and the Beurs-World Trade Centre. “Dagelijkse Kroniek 1947, Rotterdams Jaarboekje Series 5, Year 6, (1948), 50, 66; “Het Debat over de Wederopbouw,” Rotterdam Bouwt: Het Maandblad Gewijd aan de Wederopbouw van Rotterdam, July 1947, pg. 8-9; “Het Nieuwe Plan voor de Coolsingel,” Rotterdam Bouwt: Maandblad voor de Wederopbouw van Rotterdam, No.3, July 1947, pgs. 8-10, here pg. 8.

Chapter One 59 the Rotterdam reconstruction plans, as the Lijnbaan would go on to become the first pedestrian- only shopping area in Europe, predating a similar project in Coventry by several years.94 The model, bordered by the Weena (then still called the Stationsboulevard) in the north and the

Binnenweg in the south, depicted a large area completely off-limits to cars. This was a big deal at the time, and was a testament to the principle of the separation of urban functions venerated by the

CIAM.95 By setting aside a significant chunk of prime downtown real-estate, the model also indicated that private consumption would be a crucial component of Rotterdam’s postwar identity.

The second model was of the Coolsingel, Rotterdam’s main street. The size of the model alone drew visitors’ attention. On its east side it featured City Hall and the Post Office, both of which had survived the bombing of May 1940. The destruction of the buildings on the west side of the street allowed for the widening of the road and the erection of simple, clean, square buildings with flat roofs. Signage near the model highlighted the forecasted improved traffic connection with

Hofplein, a large traffic circle at the north end of the Coolsingel. It was another indication that the exhibition sought to naturalize the choices that elites had made about reconstruction: the

Coolsingel plan was presented as common sense, for who could not be in favour of better traffic flow?96 However, as the magazine Rotterdam Bouwt noted in 1947, the model might not actually have had the desired effect, for it created a nostalgia for the old street rather than excitement for the new one. “The future boulevard will give a completely different image than the prewar

Coolsingel,” the magazine noted, but “many an average Rotterdammer will look at the model and reminisce about the many fun evenings spent on the prewar street.”97 The contrast between what the magazine observed and what the exhibition emphasized is telling. The men in charge of the

94 “Het Nieuwe Plan voor de Coolsingel,” Rotterdam Bouwt: Maandblad voor de Wederopbouw van Rotterdam, No.3, July 1947, pgs. 8-10, here pg. 8. 95 Ibid. 96 Ibid., 10. 97 Ibid., 11.

Chapter One 60 exhibition considered the cultural and social needs of the city inferior to the economic needs of the future Rotterdam, but this view was carefully hidden. Rather economic decisions were presented in the most modern aesthetic garb, with the whole thing wrapped in the ‘common sense’ of a modern vision. Yet the different interpretations of the model highlighted the difficulty in selling a certain vision of Rotterdam’s recovery to the public. They demonstrated the need for continued negotiation between the city’s elites – those in charge of reconstruction – and the citizens whose favour they desired.

Aside from playing up public excitement for a radically new and exciting future, the organizational committee of Rotterdam Soon also exploited feelings about the past as a way of gaining support for the Basic Plan. By stressing the plan’s highly modern nature, the exhibition fed a national desire for renewal, rejuvenation, and change. The war was associated with feelings of public guilt, anger, and humiliation and, like citizens of other nations occupied by the Nazis, the Dutch were eager to move on. As Mark Mazower highlighted, people at the time preached their ability and “strength to forget. Forget as quickly as possible!”98 Wiping the city-slate clean, so to speak, met this desire. Kristin Ross has pointed out that France in the 1950s underwent “a massive desire to be clean”; a focus on public hygiene and collective cleanliness became a way of metaphorically expunging the Vichy past and its Pétainist compromises.99 In the Netherlands the focus on radical urban renewal functioned in much the same way. Nothing about Rotterdam’s

Basic Plan was reminiscent of the past: no element of the projected urban landscape could be associated with compromising memories of invasion, capitulation, or collaboration. Exhibitions like Rotterdam Soon used the urge for renewal and purification to push the agenda of the elites, presenting the Basic Plan in a therapeutic manner: it was the solution to the desire for a literal

98 Mark Mazower, Dark Continent: Europe’s Twentieth Century (New York: Vintage, 1998), 233. 99 Kristin Ross, Fast Cars, Clean Bodies: Decolonization and the Reordering of French Culture (Cambridge: Massachusetts Institute of Technology Press, 1996), 74.

Chapter One 61 removal of the past.

Rotterdam Soon was well-received and popular. Internal memos from the organizational committee revealed that the public reaction was gunstig (favourable), even though a heat-wave struck in the summer of 1947.100 Visitors packed the rooms in the Boymans Museum and intently listened to ASRO experts illuminate specific information in the exhibits.101 To encourage attendance, Oud and Van der Mandele celebrated visitor milestones. On July 8, 1947, Rotterdam

Soon welcomed its 30,000th guest, H.P.W. Bremer, a sailor on the Holland-Amerika Line. He was presented with a complimentary copy of the book Rotterdam: The Port of Europe, authored by

Cornelis van Traa himself.102 The exhibition was also promoted by high-profile visits, like Queen

Wilhelmina who visited on June 3.103 The Queen’s attendance spiked interest and in mid-June the newspaper Het Vrije Volk reported that because the numbers of visitors exceeded 3,000 on certain days, the museum had decided to stay open late on Tuesday and Thursday evenings.104 Another record setting week came in August, when the same newspaper reported that the museum saw at least 1,000 visitors every day of the week, and almost 2,000 daily during extended opening hours on Tuesday and Thursday.105 Over its three-month run, between May 18 and August 31, 1947,

Rotterdam Soon tallied 77,631 visitors, handsomely beating the previous event, The Netherlands

Builds in Brick, which had been organized under Nazi occupation in 1941.106

100 GAR 465-01_5, “Uittreksel uit de “Verzamelde Stukken” in 1947 volgnr.176 dd. 24-10-47”; GAR 298_325, “Nota van Toelichting bij het gewijzigde plan voor de Herbouw van de Coolsingel, voor de omgeving van het Schielandshuis, voor de wijk ten Westen van de Coolsingel en voor het gewijzigde profiel van de Westersingel,”4. 101 “Het Nieuwe Plan voor de Coolsingel,” Rotterdam Bouwt: Maandblad voor de Wederopbouw van Rotterdam, No.3, July 1947, pgs. 8-10, here pg. 8. 102 “‘Rotterdam Straks’ kreeg 30.000ste bezoeker,” Het Vrije Volk, July 8, 1947, 2. 103 “Koningin bezoekt ‘Rotterdam Straks’”, Het Vrije Volk, June 2, 1947, 1; “Dagelijkse Kroniek 1947, Rotterdams Jaarboekje Series 5, Year 6, 1948, 54. 104 “‘Rotterdam Straks’ ook des avonds geopend,” Het Vrije Volk, June 14, 1947. 105 “Recordweek voor ‘Rotterdam Straks’,” Het Vrije Volk, August 9, 1947. 106 “Beknopt overzicht van de voornaamste openbare werken in 1947,” Rotterdams Jaarboekje Series 5, Year 6 (1948), 116. (Jaarboekje rounds up the total to 78,000.); “Rotterdam Straks,” Het Vrije Volk, September 2, 1947.

Chapter One 62

Rotterdam Soon’s success brought two similar exhibitions in its wake: De Maasstad in de

Steiger, which woodenly translates to The City on the Meuse in Scaffolding, in 1949, and Een Stad

Herrijst (A City Rises Again) in 1950. The City on the Meuse in Scaffolding opened on

Construction Day 1949 in the newly constructed Bouwcentrum.107 Like Rotterdam Soon, it displayed maps, models, drawings, and photographs of planned reconstruction projects. In an effort to increase support, this exhibition attempted to make reconstruction relate to visitors on a more personal level. “Where ever you live,” Het Vrije Volk reported, “you’ll find a model that will show you what your neighbhourhood will look like soon.”108 Somewhat unexpectedly, this approach did not resonate with locals. However, it proved to be a big tourist attraction. “Last week, groups of Belgians, Americans, Australians, Tasmanians, Lebanese, and South Africans [visited],”

Het Vrije Volk wrote in September, “but hardly fifty Rotterdammers show up daily.”109 While the newspaper did not speculate about what appeared to be the falling interest in Rotterdam’s recovery, it seems clear that, less than two years after Rotterdam Soon, the new exhibition failed to offer anything new or exciting. The local public had seen this before. While new models were added, for example a model of Rotterdam’s downtown in as it was projected to look in 1958, this was insufficient to draw the large crowds of Rotterdam Soon.110

The waning interest and falling attendance at The City on the Meuse in Scaffolding demonstrated that exhibiting Rotterdam’s recovery on its own had limited appeal. Future exhibitions therefore, would need other attractions. The addition of more and larger popular

107 “Bouwcentrum” roughly translates to “Building Centre,” and was an initiative of the Union for Dutch Architects (Bond van Nederlandse Architecten, BNA) and the Central College for the Building Industry (Centraal Bureau van Bouwwezen). The centre, which opened on Construction Day 1949, had the goal to provide information and documentation about construction technology in the Netherlands. For more, see the official Bouwcentrum website: http://www.rotterdam.nl/tekst:bouwcentrum (Accessed August 10, 2016). 108 “Spreeuwenpraat,” Het Vrije Volk, September 8, 1949. 109 Ibid. The historical record on De Maasstad in de Steigers is remarkably slim. Other than the aforementioned newspaper article, I only found mentions of the exhibition on the website wederopbouwrotterdam.nl, a contemporary flyer issued by the City of Rotterdam, and Paalman’s Cinematic Rotterdam (2011). I can find no other records of it. 110 “Spreeuwenpraat,” Het Vrije Volk, September 8, 1949.

Chapter One 63 entertainment options would become a hallmark of the exhibitions organized in Rotterdam in the

1950s. The City on the Meuse in Scaffolding’s successor, A City Rises Again, coincided with the first of these large festivals: Ahoy’. On June 15, 1950, the newspaper Het Vrije Volk even called the exhibition “Ahoy Outside of Ahoy.”111 Because of its association with the larger event, A City

Rises Again was much more popular than its 1949 predecessor, and its run was quickly extended.112

Newspapers across the nation encouraged people to see Ahoy’ and also to visit its smaller museum companion, with its 3D models of work that had been accomplished in the previous five years and photographic materials chronicling progress.113 The rising visitor numbers for A City Rises Again had thus less to do with the exhibition itself, but more with the popularity of Ahoy’, benefiting from its appeal.

Ahoy’ was large festival that drew international crowds and made a bold statement about postwar Rotterdam to both local and foreign audiences. Unlike the smaller museum exhibitions,

Ahoy’ drew millions of visitors and, although distinctly a national manifestation, drew many international visitors. It was the first of what became four large festivals celebrating the recovery of the Netherlands at large and Rotterdam in particular. Different from the annual Construction

Day and the smaller museum exhibitions, Ahoy’ and its successors were large national exhibitions that attracted millions of national and international visitors and functioned somewhat like a world’s fair. While the first three small exhibitions of 1947-1950 had sought to create excitement for the city’s urban recovery, to celebrate progress, and to offer a narrative of hope and optimism after the war, Rotterdam’s wholehearted embrace of radical urban modernity intially made the city’s reconstruction a symbol for the country’s renewal at large. At a time when the country was

111 “Ahoy’ buiten Ahoy’,” Het Vrije Volk: Het Vrije Volk: (Special Edition: Ahoy’-Bulletin, No.2), June 15, 1950. 112 “‘Een Stad Herrijst’ wordt verlengd,” Het Vrije Volk, July 25, 1950. 113 “Nevenattracties,” Leeuwarder Courant: Hoofdblad van Friesland, June 9, 1950; The exhibition “Een Stad Herrijst,” recevied newspaper coverage across the country: De Gooi- en Eemlander (June 7, 1950), Leeuwarder Courant: Hoofdblad van Friesland (June 9, 1950).

Chapter One 64 obsessed with “purification fantasies,” the presentation of radical reconstruction seemed to satisfy the hunger for renewal. The newness of the city spoke to a purge of the damning memories of invasion, capitulation, and collaboration. In accordance with the city’s new-found national role, the large exhibitions in Rotterdam in subsequent decades had a more national, rather than municipal focus, although the goal remained the same: selling and validating the city elites’ vision of Rotterdam’s urban future.

Hamburg’s Destruction:

Shifting from the Netherlands to West Germany, postwar exhibitions in Hamburg looked different from those in Rotterdam for a number of reasons. Firstly, despite the fact that German urban planning sat fundamentally within the tradition of European modernism, and that reconstruction plans for Hamburg were drafted after 1943, these plans were politically unworkable due to their association with Hitler’s Reich. This connection prevented them from being used at exhibitions as predictors of the postwar world. Hitler’s love for fantastic city plans, moreover, made grand displays of future cities (like those displayed at Rotterdam’s early exhibitions) unappetizing for postwar Hamburg’s public following defeat. Secondly, the immense destruction experienced in the city and the comparatively limited clean-up in its aftermath, provided a different material background from that in Rotterdam: there was no prolonged period of stark emptiness that could stimulate grand visions of the future. Thirdly, and most importantly, the British military occupation of Northern Germany, and the country’s politically contentious situation in the late

1940s made for a very different public focus for Hamburg’s exhibitions. Just as municipal elites in Rotterdam had dictated the scope, focus, and framework of its exhibitions, British officials decided the main thrust of exhibitions in Hamburg in the late 1940s. This meant that, under the direction and supervision of the British, the Hamburg Fair and Exhibition Company (Messe- und

Chapter One 65

Ausstellungs Gesellschaft Hamburg) organized the city’s exhibitions with a focus on three key factors: presenting a friendly image of the British as occupiers, reintegrating the Hamburg’s citizens into a new postwar society (which meant denazification in many instances), and, above all, using exhibitions to encourage economic and industrial productivity, thereby cutting the costs of the occupation.

Hamburg was initially bombed as a direct response to the destruction of Rotterdam.

Outraged at what had happened on May 14, 1940, the British lifted some of the Royal Air Force’s restrictions that had prevented the bombing of targets inside of Germany. Accordingly, a squadron of thirty RAF bombers hit the Blohm+Voß shipyards in Hamburg a few days later. It was the first of 213 aerial attacks unleashed on the city over the course of the war.114 The worst destruction came in the late-summer of 1943, when it was subjected to an exceptionally heavy bombardment between July 24 and August 3.115 Over the course of six days 18,000 tons of bombs were dropped.116

Although Hamburg had been exposed to 137 bombing raids before this, the scale of the attack in

July 1943 was extreme: between 35,000 and 40,000 people lost their lives and more than half of

114 Keith Lowe, Inferno: The Devastation of Hamburg, 1943 (London: Penguin, 2012), 50. 115 Claudia Jerzak, “Memory Politics: The Bombing of Hamburg and Dresden,” in Catastrophe and Catharsis: Perspectives on Disaster and Redemption in German Culture and Beyond, eds. Katharina Gerstenberger and Tanja Nusser (Rochester: Camden House, 2015), 53-72, here p. 55. For more on the bombardment of Hamburg, see, for example: Uwe Bahnsen and Kerstin von Stürmer, Die Stadt, die sterben sollte: Hamburg im Bombenkrieg, Juli 1943 (Hamburg: Convent Verlag, 2003); Hans Brunswig, Feuersturm über Hamburg (Stuttgart: Motorbuch, 1978); Ursula Büttner, “Gomorrha”: Hamburg im Bombenkrieg (Hamburg: Landeszentrale für Politische Bildung, 1998); Siegfried Gräff, Tod im Luftangriff. Ergibnisse pathologisch-anatomischer Untersuchungen anläßlich der Angriffe auf Hamburg in den Jahren 1943-1945 (Hamburg, 1948); Christian Hanke, Joachim Paschen, and Bernhard Jungwirth, Hamburg im Bombenkrieg 1940-1945: Das Schicksal einer Stadt (Hamburg: Medien-Verlag Schubert, 2001); Egbert A. Hoffmann, Als der Feuertod von Himmel stürzte: Hamburg Sommer 1943 (Gudensberg-Gleichen: Wartberg Verlag, 2003); Werner Johe, “Strategisches Kalkül und Wirklichkeit: Das Unternehmen Gomorrah.” Die Grossangriffe der RAF gegen Hamburg im Sommer 1943.” in Grossbritannien und der deutsche Widerstand 1933- 1944, eds. Klaus-Jürgen Müller and David N. Dilks (Paderborn: Schöningh, 1994), 217-27; Keith Lowe, Inferno: The Devastation of Hamburg, 1943 (London: Penguin, 2012); Martin Middlebrook, The Battle of Hamburg: The Firestorm Raid (London: Cassell, 2000); Gordon Musgrove, Operation Gomorrah: the Hamburg Firestorm Raids (London: Jane’s, 1981). 116 Niels Gutschow, “Hamburg: the ‘Catastrophe’ of July 1943,” in Rebuilding Europe’s Bombed Cities, ed. Jeffry Diefendorf (London: MacMillan Press, 1990), pgs. 114-130, here pg. 117.

Chapter One 66 the city was destroyed.117 The Nazi Minister of Armaments and War Production and Hitler’s favourite architect, Albert Speer, recalled in his memoirs written in the mid 1960s that:

[r]ash as the operation was, it had catastrophic consequences for [Germany]. The first attacks put the water supply pipes out of action, so that in the subsequent bombings the fire department had no way of fighting the fires. Huge conflagrations created cyclone-like firestorms; the asphalt of the streets began to blaze; people were suffocated in their cellars or burned to death in the streets. The devastation of this series of air raids could be compared only with effects of a major earthquake. [Hamburg] Gauleiter [Karl] Kaufmann teletyped Hitler repeatedly, begging him to visit the stricken city. When these pleas proved fruitless, he asked Hitler at least to receive a delegation of some of the more heroic rescue crews. But Hitler refused even that.118

The eight-day barrage of bombardments undertaken by the British Royal Air Force and the US Air

Force had grimly been named Operation Gomorrah.119 The reference to the Biblical story where fire and brimstone rained down from the heavens to destroy entire cities was almost too apt, as

Hamburg was hit harder than any other large German city, except perhaps Dresden.120 Almost half of the city’s residences were entirely destroyed. Only one-fifth came out of the war unscathed.121

The sheer scale of the destruction was so immense that Nazi Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels wrote on August 1, 1943: “Every one of these raids destroys the heart of a city. How strong the enemy air force must be to be able to carry out such a massive offensive with hardly a break?”122

117 Malte Thießen, Eingebrannt ins Gedächtnis: Hamburgs Gedenken an Luftkrieg und Kriegsende 1943-2005 (Hamburg: Dölling und Galitz Verlag, 2007), 35. The exact numbers for the destruction in Hamburg vary quite a bit, but generally range between the numbers mentioned above. Gordon Musgrove (Operation Gomorrah: The Hamburg Firestorm, 1981. pg. 167) reported that the official number given in November 1943 was 31,647 and later updated to 41,800 but notes that these numbers were notoriously unreliable due to scale of the devastation. Others report numbers of 34,000 (Nicholas Stargardt, The German War: A Nation Under Arms), 35,000 (Jeffry Diefendorf, In the Wake of War, 11); 41,000 (Ralf Blank, et. al., Germany and the Second World War, 385), to as high as 45,000 (William I. Hitchcock, The Struggle for Europe: The Turbulent History of a Divided Continent 1945 to the Present (New York: Anchor Books, 2013, 12). The scale of the destruction in Hamburg likewise varies depending on the definition: from 43 per cent (Ralf Blank, Germany and the Second World War, 385) to 60 per cent (Claudia Jerzak, “Memory Politics”, 55). 118 Albert Speer, Inside the Third Reich: Memoirs by Albert Speer, trans. Richard and Clara Davison (London: The MacMillan Company, 1970), 283. 119 Jerzak, 55. 120 Stargardt, The German War, 6; Diefendorf, In the Wake of War, 74. The hardest hit were mid-sized towns such as Würzburg and Pforzheim. 121 Friedrichs, Changing Downtown, 34. 122 Joseph Goebbels, Tagesbücher, vol. II, ix, 200 (1 Aug. 1943), English translation cited in Ralf Blank, Jörg Echternkamp, Derry Cook-Radmore, eds. Germany and the Second World War, Volume IX/I: German Wartime Society 1939-1945: Politicization, Disintegration, and the Struggle for Survival. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 385.

Chapter One 67

Speer likewise recalled his astonishment at the scale of the destruction, stating that, “Hamburg put the fear of God in me.”123

The colossal bombardment had a tremendous psychological impact, which was compounded by the fact that Hamburg had been one of the first cities to experience major aerial bombardment. Mass aerial destruction had come to Germany in 1942 when the city of Lübeck was bombed on the 28th and 29th of March, but Hamburg’s wholesale destruction in 1943 came relatively early in the air war against Germany.124 In fact, most of the major aerial bombardments

–including Kassel, Hannover, Berlin, Frankfurt, Bremen, and Dresden– occurred after Hamburg.125

Historian Nicholas Stargardt has stressed how the weeks after Hamburg were a period of imagined national defeat, sparking a unique public conversation about regime change, which did not happen before or since. A stark sense of vulnerability and guilt gripped the public, and many saw the bombing as a reprisal for the Holocaust.126 By 1943, moreover, the war had decisively turned against Germany, meaning that Hitler and the High Command focused their attention, resources, and manpower towards the war effort almost exclusively: funds were not available for clean-up or rebuilding. Prisoners from the nearby Neuengamme concentration camp were called in to remove the rubble and corpses under the supervision of a few members of the Air Protection Police, the

Wehrmacht, and the S.S.127

For the clean-up, authorities divided the city into three zones: the Dead Zone, which was the area of complete destruction and off-limits to the public; the Evacuated Zone, which was

123 Speer, Inside the Third Reich, 284. 124 Ralf Blank, Jörg Echternkamp, Derry Cook-Radmore, eds. Germany and the Second World War, Volume IX/I: German Wartime Society 1939-1945: Politicization, Disintegration, and the Struggle for Survival. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 72, 168. 125 Ibid., 72. 126 Nicholas Stargardt, The German War: A Nation Under Arms, 1939-1945 (New York: Basic Books, 2015), 372- 376 127 Klaus Neumann, Shifting Memories: The Nazi Past in the New Germany (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2000), 142; Keith Lowe, Inferno: The Devastation of Hamburg, 1943 (London: Penguin, 2012), 268.

Chapter One 68 devoid of any utilities or services but accessible to the public if they obtained a permit, and finally the Live-Zone, which consisted of the areas that had sustained the least damage.128 Clean-up efforts were concentrated in the Live-Zones, but even there rubble remained for years afterwards.

Stargardt noted that “parts of the devastated areas were visible from the single-track railway line which began running again on 15 August through the ruins of Hammerbrook and Rothenburgsort to the Hauptbahnhof.”129 This demonstrates that, despite efforts to make life tolerable in certain areas, the closed-off areas remained part of daily life. All things considered, authorities in

Hamburg actually managed a reasonable clean-up after 1943. Jeffry Diefendorf has noted that

“within two months, 170 miles of streets had been cleared and 7,668 ruined or partially ruined buildings demolished [and] within five months, 80 per cent of the city’s industrial capacity was restored.”130 There was, however, still a lot of work left to be done. Rubble would remain part of the Hamburg landscape until the late 1940s. In contrast to Rotterdam, then, the post-bombardment experience in Hamburg was marked by the presence of rubble and ruins, rather than by emptiness.

The Legacy of Nazi Planning:

Such immense destruction made reconstruction in Hamburg seem like an insurmountable task. Indeed, many voices in the immediate aftermath said that it would take decades to rebuild the city.131 While all resources in the first few weeks were “required to care for the injured, to recover the dead, and for the initial clear-up work… no one at all was considering how to respond in

128 Gordon Musgrove, Operation Gomorrah: The Hamburg Firestorm Raids (London: Jane’s, 1981), 162. 129 Stargardt, The German War, 370. 130 Jeffry Diefendorf, In the Wake of War, 20. 131 “Report No. 22 (25 September 1946), A Study of the Attitudes Toward the Reconstruction and Rehabilitation of Germany,” in Anna J. Merritt and Richard L. Merrit, eds., Public Opinion in Occupied Germany: The OMGUS Surveys, 1945-1949 (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1970), 103-106; Niels Gutschow, “Hamburg: the ‘Catastrophe; of July 1943,’ 118-120; Werner Durth and Niels Gutschow, eds. Träume und Trümmern: Planungen zum Wiederaufbau zerstörter Städte im Westen Deutschland 1940-1950. Vol. 1 (Braunschweig: Vieweg, 1988), 607- 8.

Chapter One 69 planning terms.”132 As Jörn Düwel has pointed out, this situation was vastly different from

Rotterdam, where W.G. Witteveen had received orders from the Nazi occupiers to draft reconstruction plans within days of the city’s shelling.133 Almost a month had passed since the attack when Konstanty Gutschow, the Nazi architect for Hamburg, was given a directive in August

1943 to “occupy [himself] with basic thoughts on reconstruction.”134 Even then, however, planning did not go smoothly. Almost immediately Gutschow ran into conflict with Hamburg’s Gauleiter,

Karl Kaufmann who, overwhelmed by the sheer extent of the devastation, wanted quick-fix, temporary housing for those rendered homeless. Gutschow, on the other hand, thought more along the lines of Witteveen in Rotterdam, with an eye on projects that would be beneficial to long-term planning and reconstruction. Feeling that his hands were tied and his creative vision was stifled by real-world needs, Gutschow resigned as city planner in November 1943. Almost immediately, however, Albert Speer recruited him as the head of the Task Force for Reconstruction of

Bombarded Cities (Arbeitsstab für den Wiederaufbau bombenzerstörter Städte), where he became responsible for Hamburg’s reconstruction plans, as well as for the destroyed cities of

Wilhelmshaven and Kassel. In this role he was free to develop plans for Hamburg as he saw fit.135

The wartime role of Konstanty Gutschow is important to the future course of Hamburg’s reconstruction and partly explains why the pursuit of an architectural high modernism was not acceptable in postwar Hamburg as it was in Rotterdam. A central Nazi planner, his career began in the Weimar era, and he was a practitioner of the modernist impulses that marked urban planning across Europe and North America. Gutschow had worked under the mentorship of Fritz

132 Jörn Düwel, “Hamburg: Two Catastrophes in 1842 and 1943,” in Blessing in Disguise: War and Town Planning in Europe, 1940-1945 (Berlin: DOM Publishers, 2013), pgs., 194-261, here pg. 231. 133 Ibid. 134 Ibid., 236. 135 FZH 361-2 Städtebau Berichte, Konstanty Gutschow, 10 Jahre Architect, 1935-1945, April 1946.

Chapter One 70

Schumacher between 1926 and 1933.136 Schumacher was Hamburg’s main planner and architect

(Baudirektor und Leiter des Hochbauwesens) between 1909 and 1933 and was well respected across Germany. As Jeffry Diefendorf has argued, training under Schumacher provided Gutschow with “a good opportunity to observe and appreciate Schumacher’s methodological approach to planning, and Schumacher’s relationship with Gutschow became that of master-pupil.”137

In fact, in an interview given after the war, Gutschow was asked if he could have been a

“second Schumacher” had it not been for the war.138 While Gutschow avoided answering the question directly, the idea is nevertheless interesting, as the two men had a lot in common.

However, politics provided the critical difference between them. Gutschow was a committed

National Socialist, while Schumacher was not, and their urban plans, accordingly, diverged on the issue of race. Specifically, Gutschow adapted and racialized Schumacher’s regional urban development plan known as the Axes Concept (Achsenkonzeption).139 For both Gutschow and

Schumacher, the plan held that Hamburg was economically dependent on its hinterland and that proper development of the city was predicated on connections to the surrounding communities.140

For Gutschow, however, the plan represented a racialized return to nature, which was “pure” according to National Socialist ideology, and featured Aryan citizens enjoying the healthy benefits of the German countryside. After the war Gutschow recalled “Hitler’s decorative redesign of the

Elbe” had merely been a “brooch on [his] larger Hamburg city plan.” This underscored that he had

136 Jörg Hackhausen, Stadtplanung in Hamburg: Kontinuitäten und Wandel vom Generalbebauungsplan 1940/1 bis zum Aufbauplan 1950 (Munich: GRIN Verlag, 2007), 16. 137 Diefendorf, In the Wake of War, 162 138 FZH 361-2, Städtebau Hamburg Berichte, “Unterredung mit dem Architekten Konstanty Gutschow am 13. Februar 1953 nachmittags in seinem Büro (Schauenburgerstrasse 1, 4. Obergeschoss,” pg. 2. 139 The Axes Concept was one of Schumacher’s most well-known ideas, as Hamburg Senator Meister remarked in a speech in 1973: “the well-known Oberbaudirektor Schumacher made it clear long before the Second World War … that the city should be seen as a whole.” FZH 361-0 Städtebau Berichte 1970, “Ansprache von Senator Meister auf dem Landesparteitag der SPD am 29./30. Juni 1973,” 6. 140 Friedrichs, The Changing Downtown, 33.

Chapter One 71 valued his overall plan for the city more than the changes he had made to appease Hitler’s wishes for Hamburg as a symbolic Führerstadt.141

While Gutschow’s ideas mostly resonated within established European modernist traditions, his plans also reflected, in Diefendorf’s words, “earlier grandiose schemes of the Nazis to redesign [German] metropolises into cities representative of the new National Socialist state.”142

After all, Gutschow was a National Socialist and had been subject to Hitler’s wishes. Gutschow joined the NSDAP in 1937 and had been tasked by Hitler to personally redesign Hamburg, after the latter had been disappointed with Speer’s early proposals.143 Hamburg was part of the so-called

Führer Program, which oversaw the redesign and redevelopment of chosen German cities into representative examples of the Nazi regime. While most German Aryan citizens were to live in small, green, suburbs, some grandiose, monumental cities were nevertheless part of the Third

Reich’s masterplan. Each would be fully integrated with the national autobahn system and highlighted for its political importance. Berlin, to be renamed Germania, was to be the Capital of the Reich; other cities were dubbed Capital of the Nazi Movement (Munich), City of the Party

Rallies (Nuremberg), City of the People’s Revolution (Graz), City of Germans Abroad (Stuttgart), and the City for Arts and Culture (Linz).144 Hamburg, in turn, was to become the City of Foreign

Trade, and Nazi Germany’s main port.145

141 “…und es sei ihm auch einen Generalbebauungsplan gegangen, nicht nur um eine decorative Neugestaltung des Elbufers, die er ledgilich as “Brosche” am hamburgischen Städtebild empfunden habe.” FZH 361-2 Städtebau Hamburg Berichte, “Unterredung mit dem Architekten Konstanty Gutschow am 13. Februar 1953 nachmittags in seinem Büro (Schauenburgerstrasse 1, 4. Obergeschoss,” 2. 142 Diefendorf, In the Wake of War, xvi. 143 Ibid., 162; Blaine Taylor, Hitler’s Engineers: Fritz Todt and Albert Speer, Master Builders of the Third Reich (London: Casemate Publishers, 2010), 49. 144 Robert R. Taylor, The Word in Stone: The Role of Architecture in the National Socialist Ideology (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1974), 258. Diefendorf, In the Wake of War, 160. 145 As Hitler himself put it: “Nach dem Willen der Staatsführung soll das äußeres Zeugnis für die große Epoche des deutschen Wiederaufstiegs der planmäßige Ausbau einiger großer Städte des Reiches vorgenommen werden. An der Spitze wird die großzügige Augestaltung der Reichshauptstadt stehen.” Christian Schneider, Stadtgründung im Dritten Reich: Wolfsburg und Salzgitter: Ideologie, Ressortpolitik, Repräsentation (Wolfsburg: H. Moos, 1979), 19; Georg Kayser, Die baupolizeilichen Vorschriften des Deutschen Reiches und Preussens, Reichsbaurecht und preussisches

Chapter One 72

As the representative Nazi port, Hitler had several requirements for Gutschow’s redesign of Hamburg. He insisted the city would be remodeled in the most impressive way and that the shoreline of the Elbe River become the focal point for its commercial, governmental, and political functions. 146 This was a drastic change, as the historic heart of the city had focused on the Alster, the lake in the city’s center, and not the Elbe. However, because Hitler envisaged the new center to be between St. Pauli Landungsbrücken and the western suburb of Altona, he essentially shifted

Hamburg’s downtown west, leaving most of the city’s post-1842 inner city intact.147 The Elbe shoreline was to be the location of a skyscraper housing the regional party offices as well as a new north-south bridge over the river, which would connect Hamburg with the suburb of Harburg.

Gutschow was skeptical about the size of the skyscraper, pointing out that it might be too heavy for the soil to support, but warmed to the idea after having visited New York, where the Rockefeller

Centre had just been completed.148 The Führer came up with his own designs for the bridge: two massive towers of 100 metres each, and a road with a surface area greater than that of the Golden

Gate Bridge.149 “There can be no doubt,” Speer later said, “that Hitler attached very great importance to this bridge, which for him was one of the most important structural documents that he hoped to build in his lifetime. It was to outdo America… as Hamburg itself was intended to surpass America’s standards.”150

Neither the bridge nor the skyscraper were ever constructed, but the psychological impact of the Nazi proposals, and Gutschow’s association with them, was far-reaching. As the beginning of this section elucidated, Gutschow was not an outlier in European city planning in this sense.

Landesbaurecht: Loseblatt-Sammlung aller einschlägen Gesetze Verordungen der Ministerialerlasse und Richtlinien. Mit Erläuterungen, Verweisungen und Sachverzeichnis (Munich: C.H. Beck, 1940), xx. 146 Diefendorf, In the Wake of War, 162. 147 Ibid., 160; Philip E. Tetlock, et al. Unmaking the West (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2003), 338. 148 FZH 361-2 Städtebau Hamburg Berichte, “Unterredung mit dem Architekten Konstanty Gutschow am 13. Februar 1953 nachmittags in seinem Büro (Schauenburgerstrasse 1, 4. Obergeschoss,” pg. 2. 149 Albert Speer, Inside the Third Reich, 82. 150 Taylor, Hitler’s Engineers, 49.

Chapter One 73

Quite the opposite, in fact was true. The British asked Gutschow to remain in charge of the building office and to organize their reconstruction efforts when they occupied the city in the spring of

1945. His association with the Nazis, however, made it untenable for the British to keep him and

Gutschow was asked to resign his post.151 His plans, meanwhile, could also not easily be adopted precisely because of the Nazi connections and their National Socialist content. To this end, the postwar Baubehörde attempted to denazify some of Gutschow’s plans by the erasing their obvious racial aspects and by actively stressing their connections with the Weimar period and the economic value of modern planning.152 To this end, Fritz Schumacher was called upon to speak about

Hamburg’s rebuilding plans, which he did during a speech at City Hall in October 1945.153

It bears noting that aspects of Gutschow’s plans would have been perfectly suited to postwar reconstruction projects. Many of his ideas were similar to Van Traa’s Basic Plan for

Rotterdam, touting the segregation of functions, relegation of people into the suburbs, the primacy of the automobile, and increasing green “breathing” space.154 The desire to match and outdo

America had also been one of the goals of “Club Rotterdam,” when they sought to redesign the city in the image of New York. Crucially, however, in Rotterdam this goal was not associated with the Nazis. After the war, in turn, in Rotterdam the construction of a broad boulevard downtown could be framed as an important, all-Dutch project to improve the city’s economic, social, and cultural vibrancy. In Hamburg, a similar project would have to work very hard not to be associated with the Nazi plans to build large boulevards for military parades. Although the language significantly changed and references to the Nazis were obviously not part of Rotterdam’s plans, decentralization, impressive broad boulevards, and grand architecture were nevertheless present

151 Diefendorf, In the Wake of War, 259. 152 Hartmunt Frank, “The Late Victory of Neues Bauen: German Architecture after World War II,” in The Reconstruction in Europe after World War II, Carlo Olmo, ed. (Bologna: CIPIA, 1993), 58. 153 Fritz Schumacher, Zum Wiederaufbau Hamburgs: Rede am Hamburger Rathaus am 10. Oktober 1945 (Hamburg: J. Trautmann, 1945). 154 FZH 361-2 Städtebau Berichte, Konstanty Gutschow, 10 Jahre Architect, 1935-1945, April 1946.

Chapter One 74 in both. Postwar West German architecture, however, had to be modest and quite subdued. As

Jeffry Diefendorf put it, “a beaten nation, in which recalling past cultural glories could be considered suspect, Germany was in no position to look ahead with great confidence. The circumstance demanded humility and modesty.”155 This is yet another reason why the exhibitions in Rotterdam stressed a beautiful urban future whereas those in Hamburg did not.

The Role of the British:

The shape of Hamburg’s earliest postwar exhibitions was directly influenced by the British, who occupied the city from May 1945 until September 1949. Upon German capitulation in May

1945, the country was divided into four occupation zones, one each for the Americans, the British, the French, and the Soviets. The British zone of occupation lay in the industrial northwest of

Germany and included some of the biggest cities, including Cologne, Düsseldorf, Hannover, and

Hamburg. It was the most densely and highly populated zone counting around twenty million people. While it had been “one of the richest, most productive parts of Germany” before the war, according to one historian “its overwhelmingly urban population represented little more than another huge millstone around Britain’s neck.”156

The situation in Hamburg and other urban areas in the British zone was deplorable: in the roughly two years between the bombing of Hamburg and the fall of the Nazi state, very little in terms of actual reconstruction had been undertaken and only the most basic necessities for life had been met. Rubble was shoveled aside to clear the streets but not removed from the landscape altogether, and many buildings that were badly damaged, but did not pose a threat of collapse, were left standing. Accordingly, when the British took control they had to first address basic life

155 Diefendorf, In the Wake of War, 278. 156 Frederick Taylor, Exorcising Hitler (London: Bloomsbury, 2014), 202.

Chapter One 75 necessities. The goals of the occupation were set out clearly by a communication from Field

Marshall Bernard Montgomery on May 30th, 1945:

TO THE POPULATION OF THE BRITISH AREA IN GERMANY 30TH MAY 1945

I have been appointed by the British Government to command and control the area occupied by the British Army. This area will be governed for the present by Military Government under my orders. My immediate object is to establish a simple and orderly life for the whole community. The first step will be to see that the population has: Food Housing Freedom from disease The harvest must be gathered in. The means of transportation must be re-established. The postal services must be restarted. Certain industries must be got going again. All this will mean much hard work for everyone. Those who have committed war crimes according to international law will be dealt with in a proper fashion. The German people will work under my orders to provide the necessities of life for the community and restore economic life of the country.157

As Montgomery’s list made clear, the immediate priority was to provide people with their basic needs – food, clothing, and shelter. This was no easy task. In fact, roughly sixty per cent of the population in the British zone had an insufficient daily caloric intake. As Montgomery noted in his memoirs, “food was very short; owing to bad weather the harvest had been poor, contrary to my earlier hopes no coal would be available for the heating of private houses. The German people had not the resistance to withstand any serious epidemic.”158

Although the British zone was intended to be self-sufficient, the occupiers ended up importing enormous quantities of foodstuffs and other supplies to prevent mass starvation.159 One historian has estimated that two-thirds of the total food supply in the British zone was paid for by

157 Bernard Law Montgomery, The Memoirs of Field-Marschal the Viscount Montgomery of Alamein, K.G., (Cleveland & New York: The World Publishing Company, 1958), 329. 158 Ibid., 358. 159 Taylor, Exorcising Hitler, 204.

Chapter One 76

British taxpayers.160 On average they supplied around 96,000 tons of food every month to prevent the twenty million Germans in their zone from starving.161 Despite this, the zone still experienced

“a shortfall of about 600,000 tons of grain” between March and July of that year.162 This burden made worse the already dire financial situation in which Great Britain found itself after the war.

The country had been bankrupted in its fight against National Socialism, facing massive debts and shortages in food, resources, and foreign currencies.163 Tony Judt has estimated that the British extracted “at most $29 million in reparations from Germany; but the occupation was costing

London $80 million a year, leaving the British taxpayer to foot the bill for the difference even as the British government was forced to impose bread rationing at home… In the opinion of British

Chancellor of the Exchequer, Hugh Dalton, the British were ‘paying reparations to the

Germans.’”164

While the British struggled to supply their zone of occupation, Germany itself was held in political limbo due to the ever-increasing tension between the Americans and the British on the one hand, and the Soviets on the other. This prevented effective economic or industrial recovery in the country. By the spring of 1948, after almost two years of occupation, German industrial output in the British zone stood at levels less than those of 1936.165 This was unsustainable, and the British realized that the German economy had to be revived and that production had to be encouraged, with or without Soviet agreement. “It was the British,” as Tony Judt argued, “who had fought two long wars against Germany from beginning to end and had been brought low by

160 Francis Graham-Dixon, The Allied Occupation of Germany: The Refugee Crisis, Denazification and the Path to Reconstruction (London: I.B. Taurus, 2013), 99. 161 Taylor, Exorcising Hitler, 205. 162 Ibid. 163 Ibid., 201. 164 Tony Judt, Postwar, 123. For more on the British situation vis-à-vis food imports to its German occupation zone, see: Johannes-Dieter Steinert, “Food and the Food Crisis in Post-War Germany, 1945-1948: British Policy and the role of British NGOs,” in Food and Conflict in Europe in the Age of the Two World Wars, ed. Frank Trentmann and Flemming Just (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006), 266-288; Elisabeth Barker, The British Between the Superpowers, 1945-1950 (London: MacMillan Press, 1983). 165 Tony Judt, Postwar, 98.

Chapter One 77 their hard-won victories—who were thus most keen to close that chapter, establish some modus vivendi in continental affairs and move on.”166 As part of the effort to ease the burden of occupation, encourage German autonomy, and boost increased food production, the British appointed several

Hamburg officials to take over the Central Office for Nutrition and Agriculture in the British Zone

(Zentralamt für Ernährung und Landwirtschaft in der Britischen Zone) in July of 1946.

One of the main new appointees to the Central Office for Nutrition was Karl Passarge, who became the deputy to the Director.167 Passarge (1893-1967) was born in Kozalin, in present-day northwestern Poland, which was then part of the Prussian province of Pomerania.168 Passarge had served in the Prussian military between 1910 and 1919 and had seen action in the First World War.

He joined the German National People’s Party (Deutschnationale Volkspartei, DNVP) in the

1920s, where he became a close confidant of Hans Schlange-Schöningen, the leading man in the

Pomeranian DNVP. The two men were close, and Passarge resigned his membership in 1929 after

Schlange-Schöninge left the DNVP in favour of the Christian-National Peasants and Farmers Party

(Christlich-Nationale Bauern- und Landvolkpartei, CNBL).169 Between 1933 and 1939 Passarge worked for the Advertising Advice Council for the German Economy, an arm of the Reich Ministry of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda.170 It does not appear that either Passarge or Schlange-

Schöningen joined the NSDAP, and although biographical details on Passarge’s wartime dealings are slim, we know he worked for two publishing houses in Berlin between 1939 and 1945.171 After

166 Ibid., 112. 167 “Karl Passarge starb im Alter von 74 Jahren,” Hamburger Abendblatt, December 11, 1967. “Karl Passarge geehrt,” Hamburger Abendblatt, April 25, 1964; Robert Franke, Katalog: Unser täglich Brot: Ausstellung für Ernährung und Landwirtschaft, Hamburg 14. Mai bis 8 Juni 1947, Planten un Blomen (Hamburg: Messe- und Ausstellungs Gesellschaft, 1947). 168 “Porträt des Tages: Karl Passarge,” Hamburger Abendblatt, 5 April 1958; StaHH 731-8_A 765, Passarge, Karl. 169 John Farquharson, “The Consensus that Never Came: Hans Schlange-Schöningen and the CDU, 1945-1949,” European History Quarterly, Vol. 19 (1989), pgs., 353-383, here. pg. 358. The CNBL was a splinter party that broke away from the DNVP in opposition to its leader, Alfred Hugenberg, in the wake of the Gefolge der Landvolk-in-Not- Bewegung. 170 “Die Geschichte der Messe – vom Mittelalter bis ins 21. Jahrhundert,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 24, 2015; Rudi Richter, Wirtschaftswerbung in der sozialen Marktwirtschaft (Wiesbaden: Springer Fachmedien, 1959), 37. 171 “Porträt des Tages: Karl Passarge,” Hamburger Abendblatt, 5 April 1958.

Chapter One 78 the war, in his position at the Central Office for Nutrition, he was reunited with Schlange-

Schöningen, who became head of the department.172 After the Central Office for Nutrition closed in September 1948, Passarge was tasked with the organization of Hamburg’s first major postwar horticultural exhibition: IGA’53. As the chairman of the organizational committee, much of the organization of this exhibition was his direct responsibility. Hans Schlange-Schöningen, meanwhile, went on to become the General Consul (1950-1953), and then German ambassador

(1953-1955), to London.173 The two men would briefly work together again when trying to work out the logistics of the British delegation to IGA’53.174

One of the main tasks of the Central Nutrition Office was to oversee rations, as well as food supply and food production, in the British zone. In an effort to encourage production, the

Office organized an exhibition to stress the necessity of this issue for the overall recovery of

Hamburg. As the Hamburg Regional Intelligence Office summarized the objective: the exhibition was “to encourage allotment-holders and market-gardeners to grow more food and to show them the best methods of doing this by practical demonstrations.”175 This exhibition became known as

Our Daily Bread: Exhibition for Nourishment and Agriculture in Hamburg (Unser täglich Brot:

Ausstellung für Ernährung und Landwirtschaft Hamburg), a comprehensive exhibition of food and agricultural production in the British zone, and the first postwar exhibition in Hamburg.176 It was held in Planten un Blomen, a large urban park near the heart of downtown, in rapidly constructed exhibition halls on the south side of the Tiergartenstraße, between the

172 “Karl Passarge starb im Alter von 74 Jahren,” Hamburger Abendblatt, December 11, 1967. “Karl Passarge geehrt,” Hamburger Abendblatt, April 25, 1964; Robert Franke, Katalog: Unser täglich Brot: Ausstellung für Ernährung und Landwirtschaft, Hamburg 14. Mai bis 8 Juni 1947, Planten un Blomen (Hamburg: Messe- und Ausstellungs Gesellschaft, 1947). 173 “Hans Schlange-Schöningen,” Der Spiegel, March 21, 1954, 25. 174 StaHH 614 3/9, “Abschrift Der Bürgermeister der Hansestadt Hamburg, Reg. 711.50-4.” 175 “Hamburg Regional Intelligence Office: Political Intelligence Summary No.11 (for month ending 31 May 1947), page 2 (bullet point 6). National Archives, FO1005/1718. 176 “Kurze Wirtschaftsmedlungen,” Die Zeit, May 15, 1947.

Chapter One 79

Dammtorbahnhof and the Rentzelstraße, from May 14 to June 8, 1947.177 While the British exercised a great deal of control over the exhibition through the Central Office for Nutrition, the event was organized by the Hamburg Fair and Exhibition Company under the direction of Robert

Franke and Karl Weinkauf.178 As would be the case with subsequent exhibitions, it was divided into several different exhibits, variously organized by municipal departments, non-governmental organizations, or private companies, each with their own particular interpretation of food security and food production.

While I have no evidence of any direct connection between the two events, there is a striking similarity between Hamburg’s Our Daily Bread exhibition, organized under British auspices, and the wartime British Ministry of Agriculture’s Dig for Victory campaign (originally plainly called Grow More Food). Campaigns like Dig for Victory, which were also common in the

United States and Canada, contributed directly to the war effort by boosting both morale (people felt good about contributing) and wartime food production.179 The emphasis of Our Daily Bread likewise served as a morale booster because it gave individual citizens agency, empowering them to make their own contributions to the postwar reconstruction effort. It also contributed to the

British desire for increased food production in their zone. Passarge’s opening remarks for the exhibition perfectly captured both of these concerns. “It has become scarce, our daily bread,”

Passarge wrote, “all the other pressing questions of this emergency period, even those of dwelling

177 Robert Franke, Katalog: Unser täglich Brot: Ausstellung für Ernährung und Landwirtschaft, Hamburg 14. Mai bis 8 Juni 1947, Planten un Blomen (Hamburg: Messe- und Ausstellungs Gesellschaft, 1947), 16-17. 178 Franke is credited as the author of the official catalogue for Our Daily Bread. Franke and Weinkauf organized the exhibitions Our Daily Bread (1947), Rubble Removal and Recycling (1947), and Hamburg at Work (1948) together, but neither of them was involved in the organization of IGA’53, ’63, or ’73. The archival record on both men is remarkably slim. We do know Karl Weinkauf started his own business that specialized in the organization of large events and exhibitions and he was in charge of several smaller exhibitions throughout the 1950s, including exhibition Economy and Transport (Wirtschaft und Verkehr) in Uelzen in April 1954 (“Mosaik,” Hamburger Abendblatt, December 12, 1953.) 179 For more on the Dig for Victory campaign see: Katherine Knight, Spuds, Spam, and Eating for Victory: Rationing in the Second World War (Stroud: The History Press, 2011); Daniel Smith, The Spade as Mighty as the Sword: The Story of the Second World War ‘Dig for Victory’ Campaign (London: Aurum, 2013); Twigs Way and Mike Brown, Digging for Victory: Gardens and Gardening in Wartime Britain (Sevenoaks: Sabrestorm Publishers, 2010).

Chapter One 80 and clothing, pale in comparison. With too little, far too little, daily bread the people of this area have a lot of daily work to do.”180 It was an important acknowledgement, and one that let the local population know that the British were not only aware of their plight, but that they were actively working on solutions. “The food shortage for the world is evident,” Passarge remarked, “serious disturbances in our supply chain, which are so detrimental to the individual in his life and his labor power, are not an evil will of the occupying powers.” He acknowledged that the reliance on food imports was unsustainable. The point of Our Daily Bread was to show “new insights and methods” in food production to “stimulate agricultural advancement” and, ultimately, to insure food security.

Passarge also made it clear that it was not the British that were necessarily to blame for the food shortage. “What are the reasons for the pressing shortage of daily bread?” he asked. “They are passionately discussed in the long bread line-ups of patiently waiting women; they dominate the political discussion of parties; they are the subject of countless scientific and economic policy treatises.”181 In no uncertain terms, he placed responsibility for Germany’s plight on the Soviets; the western occupation zones used to be supplied by the “vast expanse of the German East,” which was now under Soviet control. The problematic relationship between the Soviets and the other occupation powers had caused a scarcity of almost all tools necessary to increase production in the western zones up to the level where it could be self-sustaining.182

Our Daily Bread was thus not only an exhibition about food production. It was a demonstration that the British hoped would ultimately result in increased crop yields and food security in their zone, thus alleviating the financial burden of occupation. Individual exhibits focused on how food production could be improved and which food sources to focus on. One, organized by private fishing companies in cooperation with the Hamburg Department for

180 Franke, Katalog: Unser täglich Brot, 3. 181 Ibid. 182 Ibid.

Chapter One 81

Fisheries, under the direction of Dr. H.C. Hans Lübbert, was dedicated to fish as a source of food production. Lübbert, appointed Director by the British military government, was in charge of rebuilding Hamburg’s fishing industry. His exhibit highlighted the damage sustained by the Altona fish-market and how its reconstruction would help alleviate hunger in the city at large. In what might seem retrograde, the fishing pavilion also featured special exhibit was dedicated to whaling, highlighting some of the other uses fishing might have for Hamburg’s postwar recovery, namely the use of whale-fat as both fuel and food.183

The main exhibit at Our Daily Bread emphasized the connection between nutrition and agriculture and stressed the use of new agricultural production techniques to increase output. A small special exhibit (Landmaschinen-Lehrschau) contributed through a demonstration of agricultural machinery. Certain parts of the exhibit functioned like workshops, in which farmers and agricultural professionals shared information about the best production techniques and systems. Variously, farmers and visitors were introduced to new machines that helped production, ensuring a food-secure future. One exhibit demonstrated, for example, how potato yields could be improved by the use of machines for planting, covering, chopping, and storing crops. Other machines focused on other aspects of food production, such as the storing of hay products or the transportation of dairy. In all, the participation of agricultural machinery firms provided a comprehensive overview of the current state of agricultural technology in Germany.184 Arnim

Bölken, Chairman of the Bremen District Farmers Society, toured the exhibit and was generally impressed with what he saw. “Us, farmers,” he said, “perhaps more than some other professions, are clear on what needs to be done to alleviate suffering. And it cannot be overstated that this exhibition proves the disproportion between production methods of agriculture and the deficit of

183 Ibid., 5, 21. 184 Ibid., 5.

Chapter One 82 necessary resources.”185 He also stressed that the problem was not an unwillingness to work, but a shortage of supplies, something the British were very aware of. “We saw all the equipment: hoes, shovels, milling, equipment for sailors, food cans and seal machines, dairy equipment products, even milk cotton wool filters,” Bolken continued, “rubber-tired wagons threshers, agricultural implements, manure pumps, etc., but none were available! … Some even told me, ‘in strict confidence’ that, in his opinion, the exhibition had been organized on the initiative of the British, so that they could see capacity and remaining inventory of German industry.”186 Bolken thus pointed out an inherent contradiction. The exhibition’s stated goal of sharing knowledge to increase production would not solve the actual problem, which was a shortage of equipment. It was not until the United States committed to its European Recovery Program, or the Marshall Plan, that Europeans and West Germans finally overcame these material shortages.

Arnim Bölken was not the only one who was suspicious of the British intentions for the exhibition. An exhibit entitled The German Forest (Der Deutsche Wald), organized by the German

Wood and Forestry Council (Deutschen Holz- und Forstwirtschaftsrat), looked at the environmental protection of forests in the western zones. The tone of the exhibit was very critical of the British lack of concern for the natural environment in Germany, highlighting that forestry in the British zone had increased by 425 per cent in 1946 and that almost 170,000 hectares of

185 “Wenn uns Landwirten vielleicht mehr als manch anderem Berufsstand klar ist, was zur Linderung der Not geschaffen werden muß, so kann nicht offen genug gesagt werden, wie gerade diese Ausstellung wieder beweist, welches Mißverhältnis zwischen dem Produktionsweisen der Landwirtschaft und dem Mangel an Bedarfsmitteln vorliegt. Wenn sich heute die politischen Parteien über Änderung der landwirtschaftlichen Organisation die Köpfe heiß reden und Menschen, die in der Landwirtschaft nicht arbeiten wollen, über Erfassungssysteme nachdenken, so wäre es in der Tat wichtiger und für die gesamte Volksernährung fruchtbringender, wenn man sich über die Möglichkeit einer Produktionssteigerung Gedanken machte und ein Industrieprogramm aufzöge, das der Landwirtschaft alles das zur Verfügung stellt, was zur besseren Bodenbearbeitung und der damit verbundenen Erntesteigerung dienen kann. Bleiben die Zustände so, wie diese Ausstellung uns wieder ein praktisches Beispiel gegeben hat, gehen wir mit unserer eigenen Nahrungsmittelproduktion in Deutschland einem grauenhaften Ende entgegen.” “Weshalb diese Ausstellung?” Die Zeit, 29 May 1947. 186 “Einige erzählten mir auch „ganz vertraulich“, daß die Ausstellung ihres Erachtens auf Veranlassung der Briten eingeleitet sei, damit diese sich ein Bild machen könnten über die Leistungsfähigkeit und die Warenvorräte der noch vorhandenen deutschen Industrie…” “Weshalb diese Ausstellung?” Die Zeit, 29 May 1947

Chapter One 83

German forests had been cleared (kahlgeschlagen).187 Head of the German Wood and Forestry

Council (Forstmeister), H.O. Hermann, criticized the Allied approach, stating that “if our children are to wander in the forest again[,] our task is to maintain the remnants of the still standing forest…

Our children and grandchildren will thank us.” 188 The British were aware of this critical attitude, and noted in the Regional Intelligence Office’s Political Intelligence Summary for May 1947 that

“[t]he opportunity ha[d] been taken… [at Our Daily Bread] to make a certain amount of anti-

British propaganda.”189 In its assessment of the German Forest exhibit, for example, the report noted the inclusion of deforestation charts for areas previously occupied by the British, notably parts of North America and South Africa. “These [charts] give the average visitor the impression that we are deliberately turning the British Zone into an unproductive desert,” the Political

Intelligence Summary warned. 190

The British military government also had its own special pavilion at Our Daily Bread, which was organized under the leadership of the British Food and Agriculture Division Publicity

Branch.191 It tried to counter some of the negative claims made at the other exhibits, like The

German Forest, and was highly propagandistic, mainly consisting of wall charts showing British food imports into the British occupation zone and their cost to the British taxpayer. The exhibit also included a chart of coal exports, explaining how these were used to pay for food, countering the claim that the British were taking German coal out of spite or as the spoils of victory. None of the exhibits had the desired effect of endearing the Germans to their British occupiers however,

187 Franke, Katalog: Unser täglich Brot, 12. 188 Ibid. 189 “Hamburg Regional Intelligence Office: Political Intelligence Summary No.11 (for month ending 31 May 1947), page 2 (bullet point 6). National Archives, FO1005/1718. 190 Ibid. 191 Franke, Katalog: Unser täglich Brot, 4.

Chapter One 84 and British intelligence reports noted that the exhibit was “badly situated and shunned by most visitors.”192

Although the public reaction was not always as the British hoped for, Our Daily Bread still allowed the British to demonstrate to Hamburg’s citizens that they had the best intentions and wanted the country to flourish. Our Daily Bread also aided British goals by encouraging production. Finally, the exhibitions also worked to create a sense of community and belonging, where efforts towards reconstruction forged the communal bonds so necessary to municipal governance. Other cities in the British zone, such as Cologne, Düsseldorf, and Hannover also hosted exhibitions and trade fairs in the late 1940s, both reviving a proud tradition but also allowing, in the words of Jonathan Wiesen, “businessmen and politicians [to greet] their guests with soaring speeches about freedom, democracy, and the social market.”193 Hamburg had a long and proud tradition as a trade fair city (Messestadt) and the organization of exhibitions under supervision of the British garnered local support because it represented, among other things, a return to normalcy.194 It comes as little surprise, then, that Our Daily Bread was followed by two

192 “Hamburg Regional Intelligence Office: Political Intelligence Summary No.11 (for month ending 31 May 1947), page 2 (bullet point 6). National Archives, FO1005/1718. 193 S. Jonathan Wiesen, West German Industry and the Challenge of the Nazi Past, 1945-1955 (Chapel Hill: North Carolina University Press, 2001), 144. 194 “Erfolgreiche Messestadt: eine halbe Million besuchten 1955 unsere Ausstellungen,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 3, 1956. The city had been granted “exhibition privileges” (Messeprivilig) by Holy Roman Emperor Charles IV on January 29, 1365, which allowed it to host trade fairs for two weeks before Pentecost, and for eight days thereafter. The choice of Hamburg made sense. Charles IV ruled from Prague with trade axes emanating in all four directions: Hamburg was situated at the far northern end of the trade route. Trade goods from Charles’ realms, brought together in Prague, were shipped to Hamburg via the Elbe, to be spread west, north, and east from there. Likewise, imported goods from England, Brussels, and Russia were collected in Hamburg and shipped to Prague using the same route. The location, combined with Hamburg’s Messeprivilegen, made the city one of the main trading ports in Europe. The first modern trade shows were held in Hamburg in the early nineteenth-century. Increasingly, artisans who had dominated the earlier fairs were replaced by commercial manufacturers, and in 1832, 1834, and 1838 the commercial Hamburger Kunst- und Industriearbeiten exhibitions were held with great success. The Great Hamburg Fire of 1842 and disputes over organization prevented further successful exhibitions until the 1860s. In 1863 the International Agricultural Exhibition (Internationale Landwirtschaftliche Ausstellung) was held at the Heiligengeistfeld. It was also for this event that the City of Hamburg first made new, urban Exhibition Grounds available. With 14 international exhibitors, the event was a huge success, drawing over 200,000 visitors in 10 days. The event was organized by Hamburg businessman Ernst Freiherr von Merck (1811-1863), who initiated the event and secured financial support from the Hamburg Senate. Merck, who is now immortalized by the exhibition halls that carry his name, was a tremendously important figure in the organization of modern exhibitions in Hamburg. In 1863, after securing investment from over 800 investors, the first Hamburg Zoological Garden was constructed in Planten un Blomen Park,

Chapter One 85 more exhibitions organized under British occupation: Rubble Removal and Recycling in 1947, and

Hamburg at Work in 1948.

Rubble Removal and Rubble Recycling (Trümmerbeseitigung und Trümmerverwertung) was an inter-zonal exhibition held between July 5 and 27, 1947 at Hamburg’s Planten un Blomen Park.

Although the British were nominally involved the the organization, most of the daily decisions were left to the West Germans. Its overall organization, in turn, was very much the same as Our

Daily Bread, consisting of a combination of public and private organizations, working under the supervision of the British occupation forces and the direction of Robert Franke and Karl

Weinkauf.195 This time, the main organizing body was the German Working Group for Removal of Debris and Recycling (Deutsche Arbeitsring Trümmerbeseitigung und Trümmerverwertung).

The group consisted mainly of specialists and engineers, and had representation from cities across the Western Allied Zones, including Hamburg and Wuppertal (British Zone), Frankfurt-am-Main

(American Zone), and Konstanz and Pforzheim (French Zone).196 The group was founded after the war with the specific goal of developing the most rational and efficient methods for the removal and recycling of debris and rubble left by the war. To this end, they organized a series of seminars and workshops throughout 1946 and 1947 to share knowledge and develop new ideas and methods.

with Alfred Brehm (1829-1884) as its first director. The Zoological Garden and the adjacent Botanical Gardens housed a wide variety of exhibitions in the late-nineteenth-century, including the 1886 “Rose and Flower Show” (Rosen- und Blumenausstellung) as well as the first International Horticultural Exhibition of 1896 and the General Horticultural Exhibition of 1897. See: StaHH #710-1, Threse C6a2, “Kaiser Karl IV. erteilt das Privileg zur Abhaltung einer dreiwöchigen Messe um Pfingsten, 29.01.1365,” cited in Hamburg Messe und Congress, “650 Jahre Messen in Hamburg,” 1-3; Michael Bergeest, Bildung Zwischen Commerz und Emanzipation: Erwachsenenbildung in der Hambuger Region des 18. und 19. Jahrhunderts (Münster: Waxmann, 1995), 119, 290, 336; Andrew C. Theokas, Grounds for Review: The Garden Festival in Urban Planning and Design (Liverpool: Liverpool university Press, 2004), 29. 195 Other organizational members included Dr. Moser (Deutsche Studiengesellschaft für Trümmerverwertung Geheimer Baurat, Horst Hildebrant (Technischer Aufbau), Arno Bergeman (Kassenverwaltung), Gerhard Franke and Carl Schutt (Messedienst), and Rudolf Grabbe (Ausstellungsarchitekt). Decorations were provided by local company Apfelstedt & Hornung, while the municipal contact was D. Wedler (Ministerialrat). See: Robert Franke, Interzonale Ausstellung für Trümmerbeseitigung und Trümmerverwertung: Hamburg, Planten un blomen, 5. bis 27. Juli 1947 (Hamburg: Messe- und Ausstellungs Gesellschaft, 1947), 1, “Organisation.” 196 “Kurze Witschaftsmeldungen,” Die Zeit, October 17, 1946.

Chapter One 86

They agreed that, in the interest of a faster and more efficient clean-up, an exhibition should be organized to share knowledge more widely.197 In its focus on technocratic, solvable problems, this exhibition was clearly in line with Our Daily Bread; both were very different from the symbolic and bombastic themes of Rotterdam’s exhibitions.

Because the origins of Rubble Removal and Rubble Recycling lay in a working group for professionals, engineers, and technocrats, it is perhaps unsurprising that it was extremely technical in content. Although the fair was open to the general public, the exhibits were geared towards professional visitors, with exhibits detailing exact techniques for debris removal which were mostly inaccessible to a wider audience. Hamburg’s first postwar Building Director, Otto Meyer-

Ottens (1949-1952), declared that for “the non-expert, it is almost impossible to figure out the serious technical, organizational and constructive ideas behind a great number of presentations.”198

He concluded that combining an exhibition and a fair, catering to both a professional and a public audience, was “strange” and the two aspects “should be kept apart.”199 Yet this distinctly technical tone was in keeping with Hamburg’s previous exhibitions in lacking any attempt to appeal to the imagination, a staple for the exhibitions in Rotterdam. Instead, the Working Group shared their methods and techniques for rubble removal, while a number of private companies hosted exhibits that demonstrated how their specific company could be of assistance in the wider clean-up efforts.

For example, one company demonstrated how rubble could be reused in order to save cement, while another showed how to recycle door locks and ceiling structures.200

The following spring, in May of 1948, Hamburg hosted its largest exhibition yet, entitled

Hamburg at Work (Hamburg am Werk).201 Held between May 5 and 30, 1948, in Planten un

197 Ibid. 198 Oberbaudirektor Meyer-Ottens, “Messekonjunktur” Die Zeit, July 17, 1947. 199 Ibid. 200 Ibid. 201 “Hamburgs Lebenswille,” Die Zeit, 13 May, 1948.

Chapter One 87

Blomen Park, the exhibition was in some ways more akin to Rotterdam’s postwar exhibitions, as it placed the emphasis generally on how Hamburg should “plan, build, live, and settle!”202 Rather than a response to a contemporary problem, such as food supply or rubble removal, Hamburg at

Work dared to look ahead. It was a demonstration of Hamburg in motion, a city working hard to recover from the damages of the war. In their opening speeches, both (British) Governor Henry

Vaughan Berry and mayor Max Brauer alluded to this theme, stating that the event highlighted

Hamburg’s activity and will to live (daß Hamburg lebe und daß es zum Lebengewillt [sic] sei).203

Special exhibits organized by various industrial and commercial companies and organizations, such as the national railways, the local Hochbahn, the post office, the police, and the port, all displayed their visions for postwar recovery. The emphasis remained on industry, commerce, crafts, and trade, however, and there was a conscious absence of overall city plans or grand interpretations of Hamburg’s physical future.

In addition to the industrial and commercial pavilions, there were also special exhibits organized by other cities. Without exception, these delegations were from states in north-western

Germany surrounding Hamburg, including Lower Saxony (Osnabrück, Braunschweig, and

Borkum), North Rhine-Westphalia (Duisburg, Dortmund, Recklinghausen, Gelsenkirchen, and

Hamm), and Schleswig-Holstein (Westerland, Kellinghusen, and Elmshorn). These cities’ exhibits demonstrated their specific trajectories of postwar recovery, stressing the relationship between

Hamburg and its hinterland. The press, especially the Northwest German Broadcaster

(Nordwestdeutscher Rundfunk, NWDR), the public broadcaster in all of the aforementioned states, was present at the exhibition and reported on it extensively. The wider appeal, broad participation,

202 “Hamburgs Lebenswille,” Die Zeit, 13 May, 1948; Sonderblatt für die Ausstellung Hamburg am Werk in Planten und Blomen vom 5-30 mai 1948. 203 “Hamburgs Lebenswille,” Die Zeit, 13 May, 1948; Sonderblatt für die Ausstellung Hamburg am Werk in Planten und Blomen vom 5-30 mai 1948.

Chapter One 88 and promotion by the media ensured that the exhibition was of great economic value to Hamburg, as it brought in people from the surrounding areas. It was a first taste of what exhibitions could do for the promotion of the city and the companies that called it home. It was also most immediately a precursor to the much bigger exhibitions Hamburg would host in the upcoming decades.204

The exhibitions hosted while the city was under British occupation thus left a mark on how

Hamburg approached and presented its own recovery in the decades that followed. Rather than appealing to imagined urban futures, these exhibitions highlighted what became West Germany’s most popular export: its technocratic approach, modesty, economic success, and consumer prosperity. In 1951 the Ernst-Merck Halle, at the time the largest and most modern exhibition hall in all of West Germany with an area of 6,400 square meters and a capacity of 6,000 spectators, was opened in Hamburg to host these events.205 One example of this was the trade fair You and

Your World (Du und Deine Welt), hosted annually starting in 1955, which highlighted an impressive array of everyday products and served as a reminder of the gains of the postwar economic miracle.206 Other trade shows similarly showed off: in 1961, the first Federal Sport and

Utility Boating Exhibition (Bundes-Fach-Ausstellung das Sport- und Gebrauchsboot) was held in

Hamburg with 65 vendors and over 5,000 visitors.207 The exhibition was a clear example of the economic miracle, “which also included the search for romance and the possession of status symbols.”208 But the focus on the technical side of recovery, as highlighted in the exhibitions of the late 1940s, also continued. In 1963, the first Exhibition of Ship Engineers (Ausstellung der

204 “Hamburgs Lebenswille,” Die Zeit, 13 May, 1948; Sonderblatt für die Ausstellung Hamburg am Werk in Planten und Blomen vom 5-30 mai 1948. 205 Hamburg Messe und Congress, “650 Jahre Messen in Hamburg,” 5 206 Uta Schwarz, Wochenschau, westdeutsche Identität und Geschlecht in den fünfziger Jahren (Frankfurt-am-Main: Campus Verlag, 2002), 393. 207 “Die Geschichte der Messe – vom Mittelalter bis ins 21. Jahrhundert,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 24, 2015. 208 “Die Geschichte der Messe – vom Mittelalter bis ins 21. Jahrhundert,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 24, 2015.

Chapter One 89

Vereingung der Schiffs-Ingenieure zu Hamburg) was held, which highlighted both the technology behind shipping as well as pleasure boating. Over 35 vendors showed their latest innovations.209

In addition to the overall economic framing, which was as central to Hamburg’s identity as the urban future was to Rotterdam’s, the specifc focus on the technical and practical, as inaugurated with Our Daily Bread and Rubble Removal and Rubble Recycling, also continued. In

July 1950 the Hamburg Senate ran an exhibition entitled Parking Crisis in the Inner-City

(Parkraumnot in der Innen Stadt), which was later moved to Berlin and Cologne.210 The exhibit responded to a problem, just like the older British exhibitions had done. Parking Crisis, however, dealt with a problem created by reconstruction and increased prosperity: the need for increased parking as car-ownership rose sharply. This subject and its presentation perfectly encapsulated the technocratic and “dry” tone of most Hamburg’s postwar exhibitions. Another example was an exhibit put on between May 12 and 18, 1958, by the Hamburg Building Office (Hamburg

Baubehörde), together with support from the Federal Ministry of Housing (Bundesministeriums für Wohnungsbau). It focused on acoustic and thermal insulation in housing (Schall- und

Wärmeschutz im Wohnungsbau).211 It should be underscored that Rotterdam, to a lesser extent, also hosted technical trade shows, but these were never represented as being central to the reconstruction effort or to the general well-being of the public. In sum, Hamburg (and West

Germany in general) were marked by the complete absence of celebratory reconstruction exhibitions akin to those hosted in Rotterdam, at least for the time being.

Conclusion:

209 Ibid. 210 “Verkehrsplanung,” in Schriften zum Bau- Wohnungs-und Siedlungswesen Heft 10, (Hamburg: Freie und Hansestadt Hamburg Baubehörde 1951), A60. 211 “Unterrichtung: Ausstellungen,” Schriften zum Bau- Wohnungs-und Siedlungswesen Heft 31: Baujahre 1957-1958, 1958-1959 (Hamburg: Freie und Hansestadt Hamburg Baubehörde 1959), 77.

Chapter One 90

This chapter has surveyed six of the earliest exhibitions in Hamburg and Rotterdam. The three Rotterdam exhibitions – Rotterdam Soon (1947), The City of the Meuse in Scaffolding (1949), and A City Rises Again (1950) – candidly celebrated the city’s progress and reconstruction, and anticipated the progress that was yet to be made. This was the result of the priorities of the city’s business and political elites, who wanted to sell a vision of a highly efficient, modern, and rational

Rotterdam for economic reasons, as well as the specific material conditions in which the city found itself. The three Hamburg exhibitions – Our Daily Bread (1947); Rubble Removal and Recycling

(1947); and Hamburg at Work (1948) – likewise reflected the priorities of the elites in that city – in this instance the British. The exhibitions highlighted practical aspects of reconstruction and recovery, as a reflection of both the city’s complicated political history and the immediate priorities of the British occupation forces.

Chapter Two 91

Chapter 2: Manifestations of a New World: Public Prosperity in Hamburg and Rotterdam

Despite the tremendous damage caused by the Second World War, the economies of western Europe recovered with remarkable speed. In the Netherlands, which suffered its greatest destruction during the last months of the war, industrial and agricultural production was back to pre-war levels by 1948.1 In West Germany recovery proceeded more slowly, partly because of the political limbo in which the country found itself, but there too, industry recovered to exceed its

1936 levels by the early 1950s.2 This astonishing recovery was due in part to funding through the

Marshall Plan, which provided signficant investment in European infrastructure and reconstruction projects between 1948 and 1951.3 The Marshall Plan, however, mandated that investment in big economic infrastructure projects, such as road and rail networks, ports, power stations, and bridges, be prioritized and that, as as Victoria de Grazia has pointed out, “no aid was to be released to refurbish ragged wardrobes, replenish war-ravaged homes with household crockery and furnishings, [or] pay for pensions.”4 Directed by the Marshall Plan, accordingly, local politicians,

1 Tony Judt, Postwar: A History of Europe Since 1945 (New York: Penguin Books, 2005), 96, 85. 2 Wendy Carlin, “West German Growth and Institutions, 1945-90,” in Economic Growth in Europe Since 1945, eds. Nicholas Crafts and Gianni Toniolo (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 463, 465. See also, Angus Maddison, Dynamic Forces in Capitalist Development (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991); Henry C. Wallich, Mainsprings of the German Revival (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1955). 3 For more on the Marshall Plan, see: Pierre van der Eng, De Marshall-Hulp: Een Perspectief voor Nederland 1947- 1953 (Rheden: Uitgeverij De Haan, 1987); John Gimbel, The Origins of the Marshall Plan (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1976); Pien van der Hoeven, Hoed af voor Marshall: de Marshall-hulp aan Nederland 1947-1952 (Amsterdam: Bakker, 1997); Frank Inklaar, Van Amerika Geleerd: Marshall-hulp en Kennisimport in Nederland (The Hague: S.D.U. Uitgeverij, 1997); Axel Lehmann, Der Marshall-Plan und das neue Deutschland: Die Folgen amerikanischer Besatzungspolitik in den Westzonen (Münster: Wexmann, 2000); Charles S. Maier, and Günter Bischof, The Marshall Plan and Germany: West German Development within the Framework of the European Recovery Program (New York: Berg, 1991); Martin Schain, The Marshall Plan: Fifty Years After (New York: Palgrave, 2001); Immanuel Wexler, The Marshall Plan Revisited: The European Recovery Program in Economic Perspective (Westport: Greenwood Press, 1983). 4 Victoria de Grazia, Irresistible Empire: America’ Advance Through Twentieth-Century Europe (Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2005), 346.

Chapter Two 92 more or less uniformly across western Europe, directed funding into the industrial and agricultural sectors, purposely neglecting consumer goods. Hamburg and Rotterdam, both at the centre of their countries’ economies, benefitted greatly from this decision and saw immense investments flow into their ports. Investment equivalent to 115 million euros was poured into the port of Hamburg, which was back to prewar levels of activity in 1955. It enjoyed an impressive 68 per cent growth over the next two decades. The case for growth was even more extreme in Rotterdam, where reconstruction of the port was given “absolute priority over reconstruction of [the city’s] residential and cultural functions.”5 The port, accordingly, saw an astounding 263 per cent rise in activity between 1950 and 1970, following a period of heavy investment in the early postwar period.6

Such investment in the “politics of productivity” might have made long-term economic sense, but it was not a strategy without risk.7 The day-to-day experience for many European citizens in the late 1940s continued to be one of penury, as rationing continued and people lived at subsistence level. Indeed, as Victoria de Grazia elaborated, money was directed to industry up until the point where “furious protests from people who were famished” could only barely be avoided.8 In the western occupation zones of Germany rationing was not lifted until June 1948.9

In the Netherlands, rationing was lifted on most consumer goods by September 1949, although

5 Arie Romein and Jan Jacob Trip, “Notes of Discord: Urban Cultural Policy in the Confrontational City,” in The Politics of Urban Cultural Policy: Global Perspectives, ed. Carl Grodach and Daniel Silver (New York: Routledge, 2013), pgs. 54-68, here pg. 56. 6 Christoph Strupp, “Das Tor zu Welt, die ‘Politik der Elbe’ und die EWG. Hamburger Europapolitik in den 1950er und 1960er Jahren,” in Themenportal Europäische Geschichte, Clio Online (2010): http://www.europa.clio- online.de/essay/id/artikel-35782010), 2. 7 The term “politics of productivity” was coined by Charles S. Maier, “The Politics of Productivity: Foundations of American International Economic Policy after World War II” International Organization 31, No. 4 (1977), 607-633. 8 De Grazia, Irresistible Empire, 347; Tony Judt called the investment in economic infrastructure and the simultaneous neglect of spending on residential infrastructure or consumer goods a “high-risk strategy.” Judt, Postwar, 72. 9 Gesine Gerhard, “From food scarcity to overproduction: saving the German peasant during the miracle years,” in Agriculture in Capitalist Europe, 1945-1960: From food shortages to food surpluses, ed. Carin Martiin, Juan Pan- Montojo, and Paul Brassley (New York: Routledge, 2016), pgs. 229-245, here pg. 231; Christian L. Glossner, The Making of the German Post-war Economy: Political Communication and Public Reception of the Social Market Economy after World War II (London: I.B. Tauris Publishers, 2010), 57.

Chapter Two 93 coffee remained restricted until 1952.10 To put this into perspective, this was several years after both Hamburg and Rotterdam had finished repairing and improving their port infrastructure, highlighting the priorities of their postwar governments.11

The first large international postwar exhibitions hosted in Rotterdam and Hamburg – Ahoy’

(1950) and the International Horticultural Exhibition of 1953 (Internationale Gartenbau

Ausstellung, or IGA) – simultaneously served to promote this remarkable recovery and to secure public consent by explaining and justifying the skewed approach. The events also marked the reentry of Rotterdam and Hamburg onto the world stage after the Second World War and served to draw attention to the recovery of their port and trade capabilities. In September 1949, just as the

British were leaving the city, the newly-independent Hamburg Senate expressed its desire to organize an exhibition specifically to improve Hamburg’s international reputation and strengthen its position as a port and trading town.12 In Rotterdam, meanwhile, the mayor and City Council also debated the organization of a large international exhibition calling it “a welcome opportunity to show off the port as a critical component of national recovery.”13 To domestic audiences, this same narrative of success and recovery was used to legitimate the choices the local elites had made vis-à-vis the process of reconstruction, for it presented the decision for investment in heavy industry, and the simultaneous neglect of funding for consumer goods, as positive. The astounding economic and industrial recovery of Hamburg and Rotterdam in the early 1950s was presented,

10 Kees Schuyt and Ed Taverne, Dutch Culture in a European Perspective, Vol. 4: 1950: Prosperity and Welfare (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004), 247. 11 GAR 315_14, Ahoy’ promotional flyer, English: “Rotterdam-Ahoy’: The most-up-to-date seaport of Europe presents itself, June 15 – August 15, 1950;” Stephan Vanfraechem, “Why they are Tall and We are Small! Competition between Antwerp and Rotterdam in the Twentieth Century,” in The World’s Key Industry: History and Economics of International Shipping, ed. Gelina Harlaftis, Stig Tenold, and Jesús M. Valdaliso (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012), pgs. 142-157, here pg. 147; Strupp, “Das Tor zu Welt, die ‘Politik der Elbe,” 1-2. 12 “eine wirtschaftliche Belebung Hamburgs mit sich bringen wird.” Ausschußberichte der Hamburger Bürgerschaft aus dem Jahre 1951. April 1951, Number 16: 22 Bericht des ständigen haushaltausschusses. Senatsantrag Nr. 70: Deutsche Bundesgartenschau. Originally, this show was planned for 1950, but this was later delayed until 1953. 13 “Waar Rotterdam bij de bevordering van het belang van de haven zo dikwijls in botsing komt met andere belangen in den lande, lijkt deze tentoonstelling een welkome gelegenheid om het havenbelang te laten zien als onderdeel van het nationaal belang.” GAR 315_1, “Doel van een te Rotterdam te houden havententoonstelling,” 2.

Chapter Two 94 explicitly or implicitly, as a precursor to private prosperity. The exhibitions thus did not only highlight progress, but also justified the resulting social order. The explicit aim here was to persuade visitors, and especially workers “to work harder, accept unemployment, and defer consumption for the sake of investment.”14 In doing so, the exhibitions created a narrative of collective overcoming, where everybody had to tighten their belts for the good of the country.

They therefore had to fulfill many functions, and to present a particular narrative and interpretation of recovery to both domestic and foreign audiences.

Although exhibitions in both Rotterdam and Hamburg thus had a similar intent, as a result of the cities’ particular histories explored in Chapter One, business and political elites in each city approached their exhibitions differently. Rotterdam’s Ahoy’ in 1950 was fundamentally a celebration of the industrial recovery of the port, demonstrating that it could “once again count itself amongst the order of Western European ports.”15 It highlighted the port’s technological ingenuity and modernization to international audiences, promoting Rotterdam as the port of choice in Western Europe: it could work faster and more efficiently than competitors in (Belgian)

Antwerp, (British) London, or (German) Hamburg. This celebration and promotion simultaneously created a legitimizing narrative for the overall course of reconstruction to domestic audiences. It naturalized choices that had been made, as the demonstrations of success and the port’s technological advance made the diversion of resources into the port seem very logical.

Demonstrations of success showed investment as an economic and historical imperative and the industrial and technological marvels on display at Ahoy’ became the harbingers of a new postwar prosperity that would soon be available to all. In light of the national desire for “purification”

14 De Grazia, Irresistible Empire, 347. 15 “Rotterdam wil er op wijzen dat het – ondanks de plaats gehad hebbende gedeeltelijke verwoesting van de stad en haven – weer mee kan tellen in het bestel der West-Europese havens; dat het did niet doet aarzelend, maar met overtuiging, verjongd en vernieuwd.” GAR 315_1, “Doel van een te Rotterdam te houden havententoonstelling,” 1.

Chapter Two 95 through radical modernization, moreover, as discussed in Chapter One, the reconstruction of the port along highly modern lines was shown as a way to overcome the past.

In Hamburg, city elites opted for a different approach to their first major postwar exhibition. Unlike Ahoy’, which placed overt emphasis on technological development, economic prowess, and national accomplishment to appeal to both foreign and domestic audiences,

Hamburg’s IGA’53 did not highlight the port; instead, it placed an emphasis on trade. Because

IGA’53 was an international exhibition, the city’s elites needed to be sensitive to international audiences. Although the war had been over for some time, much of Western Europe continued to think of Germany as a threat, rather than as an ally or a partner.16 As Jeroen DeWulf has pointed out, in 1947 “only 29 per cent [of the Dutch] had a positive impression of Germans.”17 This image hurt West Germany’s economic prospects, as the country’s smallest neighbours, like the

Netherlands and Belgium, were also its largest trading partners. In this light, city and business elites in Hamburg organized a horticultural exhibition to focus international attention on the city for something innocent and amicable –flowers– and promote goodwill abroad by presenting

Hamburg as friendly, cooperative, and pro-European. Cleverly, this approach still allowed the exhibition to make a statement about Hamburg as a world-class trading port. Under the guise of horticulture, the exhibition showed that Hamburg was the largest transshipment port for tropical fruits, and one of the largest cultivation centres for fruits and vegetables in all of West Germany.

Because these statements about the city’s capacities boasted about flower exports, rather than the industrial advances of the port, the city appeared much friendlier. Lavish flower beds, beautiful sculptures, and impressive garden pavilions, moreover, made a profound statement about

Hamburg’s postwar abundance and prosperity, which not only impressed international audiences,

16 Tony Judt, Postwar, 242, 155-156. 17 Jeroen DeWulf, Spirit of Resistance: Dutch Clandestine Literature During Nazi Occupation (New York: Camden House, 2010), 188.

Chapter Two 96 but also underscored a narrative of domestic success for local audiences and provided a morale lift after the period of war and subsequent occupation.

Rotterdam’s Ahoy’ (1950)

Ahoy’ –with the apostrophe– was the first of what became four great festivals that celebrated the postwar recovery of the Netherlands at large and Rotterdam in particular. In the

Netherlands themselves, these exhibitions were referred to as “manifestations,” a clear indication of their aspirational nature. Explicitly billed as a “harbour exhibition” (havententoonstelling),

Ahoy’ celebrated the revival of the port, and specifically its remarkable comeback in five short years. The recovery was all the more striking given the scale of war damage. The port had lost 42 per cent of its total quay length, 35 per cent of its warehouses, and 90 per cent of its storage capacity.18 After the war, Dutch governments and industrial elites anticipated a central role for

Rotterdam’s port as the economic engine of the postwar Netherlands.19 Accordingly, the national government made the reconstruction of the port a primary goal and its subsequent recovery was nothing short of meteoric. Operational again by 1946, the port reached full capacity just two years later.20 In the first five years after the war, Dutch GDP increased almost twenty per cent annually,

18 Ferry de Goey, Ruimte voor Industrie: Rotterdam en de vestiging van industrie in de haven 1945-1975 (Delft: Eburon, 1990), 300. For the country at large, industrial output in 1945 stood at only 27 per cent as compared to 1938. See: Bart van Ark, Jakob de Haan, and Herman J. de Jong, “Characteristics of economic growth in the Netherlands during the postwar period,” in Economic Growth in Europe Since 1945, eds. Nicholas Crafts and Gianni Toniolo (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), pgs. 290-328, here pg. 302. 19 Schuyt and Taverne, Dutch Culture in a European Perspective, 58. 20 GAR 315_14, Ahoy’ promotional flyer, English: “Rotterdam-Ahoy’: The most-up-to-date seaport of Europe presents itself, June 15 – August 15, 1950;” Arie Romein and Jan Jacob Trip, “Notes of Discord: Urban Cultural Policy in the Confrontational City,” in The Politics of Urban Cultural Policy: Global Perspectives, ed. Carl Grodach and Daniel Silver (New York: Routledge, 2013), pgs. 54-68, here pg. 56; Stephan Vanfraechem, “Why they are Tall and We are Small! Competition between Antwerp and Rotterdam in the Twentieth Century,” in The World’s Key Industry: History and Economics of International Shipping, ed. Gelina Harlaftis, Stig Tenold, and Jesús M. Valdaliso (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012), pgs. 142-157, here 147.

Chapter Two 97 while foreign investment multiplied three-fold, and exports grew more than six-fold.21 Between

1948 and 1970, moreover, the port continually expanded westward along the New Waterway, building ever larger harbour and industrial areas to keep up with demand, including the Botlek

(constructed between 1955 and 1966), Europoort (1957-70), and finally the Maasvlakte I and II projects, which started construction in the late 1960s and continue today.22 Before the decade was out, Rotterdam had overtaken Antwerp, and by 1952 it had become the largest port in Western

Europe.23 A decade after that, in 1962, Rotterdam overtook New York as the largest port in the world.24 Primarily due to the port’s astounding recovery, a disproportionate share of Dutch GDP was dependent on foreign trade, especially with West Germany, which became its largest trading partner.25 The economic recovery of West Germany, as such, thus benefitted Rotterdam immensely as Dutch ports and waterways were the most efficient route for German industrial goods and products from the Ruhr valley to reach the wider world.26 In all, the investment into the Rotterdam port and the resurgence of the Western European economies meant that Dutch exports (primarily

21 Bart van Ark, Jakob de Haan, and Herman J. de Jong, “Characteristics of economic growth in the Netherlands during the postwar period,” in Economic Growth in Europe Since 1945, eds. Nicholas Crafts and Gianni Toniolo (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 302. 22 Alan Harding, “Amsterdam and Rotterdam,” in European Cities Towards 2000: Profiles, Policies, and Prospects, eds. Alan Harding, John Dawson, Richard Evans and Michael Parkinson (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1994), 18-44, here pg. 22; Erwin van Tuijl and Alexander Otgaar, “RDM Campus (Rotterdam),” in Delivering Sustainable Competitiveness: Revisiting the Organizing Capacity of Cities, ed. Luís Carvalho, et.al. (New York: Routledge, 2017), pgs. 162-183, here pg. 163. 23 Harding, “Amsterdam and Rotterdam,” 22; Erik Nijhof, “‘Dock-work is a skilled profession’. Descasualization and the Rotterdam labour market (1945-1970)” in The World’s Key Industry: History and Economics of International Shipping, ed. Gelina Harlaftis, Stig Tenold, and Jesús M. Valdaliso (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012), pgs. 275- 288, here pg. 277. 24 Rotterdam became the largest port in the world in terms of tonnage handled. It retained this position until 2004, when it was first overtaken by Singapore and later Shanghai. Alan Harding, “Amsterdam and Rotterdam,” in European Cities Towards 2000: Profiles, Policies, and Prospects, eds. Alan Harding, John Dawson, Richard Evans and Michael Parkinson (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1994), pgs. 18-44, here pg. 22. 25 Bart van Ark, Jakob de Haan, and Herman J. de Jong, “Characteristics of economic growth in the Netherlands,” 290. 26 Nijhof, “Dock-work is a skilled profession,” 277.

Chapter Two 98 through the port of Rotterdam) increased by an average of 13 per cent every year during the 1950s.

The Dutch share of world trade, accordingly, rose to 45 per cent above prewar levels by 1960.27

Yet, the rapid recovery of the Rotterdam port involved sacrifices as well as benefits. Scarce national resources had been diverted from competing social and commercial projects in order to secure its speedy reconstruction. As a result, by 1950 hardly any significant reconstruction of

Rotterdam’s downtown had been completed. Indeed, as Paul van de Laar pointed out, “Ahoy’ was the celebration of the reconstruction of the harbour because Rotterdam was not yet ready for a reconstruction party for the inner city.”28 The port enjoyed unprecedented growth and investment in the late 1940s, but postwar scarcity continued in many other sectors of society. Strict price and import controls, limits on consumer spending, as well as a rationing of raw materials and finished products meant that the postwar period continued to be a time of penury for most.29 Furthermore, a large majority of the public did not see, or interact with, the the port on a daily basis, making them largely unaware of the specifics of its remarkable recovery. As the dockworkers union publication De Koopvaardij put it in 1950: “Rotterdam has not recovered yet. A large part of the city has yet to be rebuilt. But [at Ahoy’] tens of thousands will take boat trips on the river and through the recovered docks and they will be surprised and pleased with the recovery.”30

The purpose of Ahoy’ was thus twofold: on the one hand it promoted the recovery of the port to international audiences, forging new business contacts and opening up new markets, while on the other hand the exhibition justified to local audiences the massive investment in the port in light of the neglect of consumer and residential factors. Luckily for the organizers, the two aims

27 Bart van Ark, Jakob de Haan, and Herman J. de Jong, “Characteristics of economic growth in the Netherlands,” 305. 28 Paul van der Laar, Stad van Formaat: Geschiedenis van Rotterdam in de negentiende en twintigste eeuw (Zwolle: Waanders, 2007), 466. 29 Bart van Ark, Jakob de Haan, and Herman J. de Jong, “Characteristics of economic growth in the Netherlands,” 302; De Grazia, Irresistible Empire, 347. 30 GAR 315_14, “Rotterdam-Ahoy!” in De Koopvaardij: orgaan van de Unie van Zeelieden, aangesloten bij de Centrale Bond van Transportarbeiders No. 27, June 7, 1950.

Chapter Two 99 were symbiotic. A demonstration of Rotterdam’s economic prowess would both attract international business and explain to local audiences that investment in the port eventually would lead to prosperity for all. In its mission statement, the organizational committee outlined Ahoy’’s goals. First and foremost, they entailed demonstrating that rebuilding and modernizing the port was crucial for the economic independence and well-being of the Netherlands at large. Indeed, in several instances, discussion minutes explicitly noted that the recovery of the port “had to be represented as being in the common interest.”31 “While the promotion of the port has often collided with other special interests in the country,” a document entiled The Goal of the Harbour Exhibition stated, “this exhibition is a welcome opportunity to show off the port as a critical component of national recovery.”32 The harbour was to be represented as the economic engine of the new country, the harbinger of postwar prosperity. Rotterdam mayor Pieter. J. Oud highlighted the necessity of bringing this attention to the harbour when he wrote to the Dutch Minister of the Economy in 1949.

“We considered waiting until more money and material would be available,” Oud wrote, “but after much deliberation, concluded that the exhibition should give expression to the desire of bringing the harbour back to life. Even with limited resources we can give attention to this renewed source of prosperity, especially because during peace time no exhibitions have been organized in the scope and grandeur appropriate for calling attention to a successful recovery like this.”33

31 GAR 315_1, “Doel van een te Rotterdam te houden havententoonstelling,” 2. 32 “Waar Rotterdam bij de bevordering van het belang van de haven zo dikwijls in botsing komt met andere belangen in den lande, lijkt deze tentoonstelling een welkome gelegenheid om het havenbelang te laten zien als onderdeel van het nationaal belang” GAR 315_1, “Doel van een te Rotterdam te houden havententoonstelling,” 2. 33 “In dit besef hebben wij ons afgevraagd of nog niet langer zou moeten worden gewacht, tot bij tijd en wijle meer geld en materialen ter beschikking kunnen worden gesteld dan thans mogelijk schijnt, doch wij zijn, na ernstige overweging, tot de conclusie gekomen, dat het feit van de reconstructie moet worden aangegrepen om uiting te geven aan het levendige verlangen de haven weer opnieuw tot de grootste bloei te brengen. Ook met beperkte middelen zal de aandacht op de vernieuwde bron van welvaart kunnen worden gevestigd, te eer omdat sedert het intreden van de vredestoestand nog geen tentoonstellingen zijn gehouden, welke in opzet of praal overtroffen zouden moeten worden om de voor het welslagen noodzakelijke belangstelling te wekken” GAR 315_1, Letter from mayor Oud to Minister of Finance, January 7, 1949, (H.B. No. 16154), 2.

Chapter Two 100

Oud’s letter was written during Ahoy’’s preparatory stages in 1949. A main organizational committee, consisting of mayor Oud, K.P. van der Mandele, and various deputies and delegates elected or appointed from Rotterdam’s municipal bureaucracy and from various independent bodies that specialized in areas of manufacturing, commerce, or industry, was established that same year. They were assisted by “Committee Exhibition 1950” (Comité Tentoonstelling 1950), which functioned somewhat like an advisory committee, and included, among others, the

Rotterdam Alderman for Finance and members of the Rotterdam Port Authority.34 This was a structure that remained in place for all four of Rotterdam’s subsequent festivals. Oud and Van der

Mandele were both experienced in the organization of exhibitions, having been involved in the planning and execution of the three smaller museum expositions in Rotterdam in the late 1940s

(see Chapter One). For Ahoy’, they were joined by a third influential figure: Jacques Kleiboer.35

Kleiboer was the Chairman of the Ahoy’ organizational committee, a role he would reprise for subsequent exhibitions in 1955 and 1960. He was also an experienced organizer of large public events, enjoying a career that stretched back to 1919. That year, at the age of 21, he was involved in the organization of the First Amsterdam Air Traffic Exhibition (Eerste Luchtverkeer

Tentoonstelling Amsterdam, or ELTA).36 In subsequent years he organized a number of other regional agricultural and industrial exhibitions, and he was the leader of the Dutch Cycle Racing

Support Team at the 1924 Paris Olympics.37 His first event in Rotterdam came in 1932, when he organized the visit of the Zeppelin.38 His extraordinary resume made him the perfect candidate to

34 GAR 315_14, “Stichting Tentoonstelling 1950, Verslag van de tentoonstelling Rotterdam-Ahoy’ 15 Juni – 31 Augustus 1950,” 3. The Rotterdam Port Authority was a branch of the municipal infrastructure of the city of Rotterdam, known as the Gemeentelijk Havenbedrijf, with literally translates as Municipal Harbour Company. As of 2004, it is a joint-stock company (naamloos vennootschap) in which the City of Rotterdam (~70 per cent) and the Netherlands National Government (~30 per cent) each own stock. 35 GAR 315_14, “Stichting Tentoonstelling 1950, Verslag van de tentoonstelling Rotterdam-Ahoy’ 15 Juni – 31 Augustus 1950,” 4. 36 “Jacques Kleiboer, organisator van Frisiana, overleden,” Leeuwarder Courant, December 18, 1984. 37 Peter de Winter, Ahoy’, E55, Floriade, C70: Evenementen in Rotterdam (Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 1988), 29-31. 38 De Winter, Evenementen, 29-31.

Chapter Two 101 execute the large manifestations celebrating Rotterdam’s postwar recovery. As a column in the newspaper De Tijd put in in 1969, almost a decade after the last Kleiboer-organized event in

Rotterdam: “Kleiboer knew exactly how to lure thousands to Rotterdam, with theme parks and

‘ooohs’ and ‘aaahs’ from citizens, farmers, and country folk.”39

Kleiboer was a show-master, and his gift for appealing to the public through an intoxicating combination of entertainment and education was perfect for Ahoy’. His first stroke of genius was, in fact, the exhibition’s name. Stemming from the nautical exclamation, it was a perfect fit for the exhibition’s celebration of the port, while also referencing an illustrious Dutch history of maritime trade and seafaring glory. It presented the reconstruction of the port as the logical continuation of a long and proud history.40 The name and focus thus did not only make investment in the port into a historical imperative, but it served as a direct link to the Dutch Golden Age, during which the

Netherlands became the richest and most powerful nation in the world. The implied message, of course, was that the reconstruction of the port of Rotterdam would usher in a second Golden Age.

That Rotterdam’s municipal history was intimately intertwined with a maritime identity was reinforced by the periodical Rotterdam Bouwt upon the exhibition’s opening in June 1950:

“Ahoy’ marks a historically important moment in Rotterdam’s turbulent history. All the life and strife of the city on the Meuse is concentrated around the harbour, and the pace of reconstruction of the harbour will determine the pace of reconstruction for the entire city.”41 Indeed, according to this article, Rotterdam’s very existence was predicated on its port. From the moment the city developed in the fourteenth century, it had the advantage of location over the surrounding port cities of Bruges, Antwerp, and Amsterdam, being situated on the New Meuse (Nieuwe Maas), at

39 “Kleiboer… die precies aanvoelde hoe hij de duizenden naar Rotterdam moest lokken, met pretparken en de oooohs and aaaahs van burgers, boeren, en buitenlui.” F. van Stelten, Column: “Laten we wel wezen,” De Tijd, August 13, 1969. 40 “Kom bij ons aan boord, roept Rotterdam,” Rotterdam Bouwt, Year 5, No.3 June 1950, 3. 41 Ibid., 4.

Chapter Two 102 the common delta of the Meuse (Maas) and the Rhine (Rijn). Its location at the confluence of two of Europe’s most important rivers made nineteenth-century Rotterdam the logical port of choice for shipping to the interior of the continent, especially to Germany and France, and across the

Atlantic to the emerging global economic powerhouse of the United States.42 As a 1955 tourist brochure put it, “[t]he city must have been a favourite of the Gods when it was situated so eminently, close by the mouth of the life-bringing river called Rhine which links the whole of

Western Europe with the North Sea.”43 The dredging of the Rhine river in 1861 made Rotterdam into a major global player, a position only reinforced when the construction of the New Waterway

(Nieuwe Waterweg) connected Rotterdam directly with the North Sea in 1872.44 These changes allowed much larger ships to reach the city. The building of shipyards, steel factories, and other industrial plants transformed the port town into a major industrial city and world port in only a few decades.

Located in Ahoy’’s main exhibition hall, a pavilion put on by Rijkswaterstaat, the Dutch

Ministry for Infrastructure and the Environment, focused on the history, development, and maintenance of the New Waterway. The canal gave Rotterdam direct access to the sea, and allowed it to capitalize on the increased shipping traffic resulting from the 1871 unification of Germany and the rapidly-growing industrialized Ruhr. Under the motto “A Ship Steams on to the Open Port of Rotterdam,” the pavilion highlighted how the new waterway had contributed to rapid urban growth and development in the late nineteenth century.45 While the amounts were astronomically expensive –ƒ6 million in 1872, ƒ1 million of which was contributed by the City of Rotterdam

42 Luc-Normand Tellier, Urban World History: An Economic and Geographical Perspective (Québec City: Presses de l’Université du Québec, 2009), 378. 43 Gemeente Rotterdam, The W.W. Guide to Rotterdam: The New City Gateway to Europe (Baarn: The International Publishing Company Ltd. “The World’s Window, 1955), 17. 44 David K. Runyon, “An Analysis of the rebuilding of Rotterdam after the Bombing on May 14, 1940” MA Thesis, University of Wisconsin, 1969, 2-3. 45 Emphasis in original. GAR 315_14, “Tentoonstelling ,,Ahoy” 15 Juni-15 Augustus 1950 Rotterdam,” 5.

Chapter Two 103 itself– it was ultimately a great investment.46 The Rijkswaterstaat exhibit thus offered a particular historical lens through which visitors could understand the postwar reconstruction of the port as an expensive but necessary diversion of national resources that, like the construction of the New

Waterway eighty years prior, would ensure growth and prosperity of all Dutch citizens in the long term.

A focus on prosperity and productivity linked past glory with the postwar breakthrough and future promise. Although none of the organizers referenced it directly, the exhibition’s emphasis on Dutch seafaring glory and history should also be understood against the recent loss of the Dutch East Indies (Indonesia). In the early years after the Second World War, many in the

Netherlands had assumed that “the raw materials of the Indies – rubber especially – would be the

Netherlands’ economic salvation.”47 However, a four-year long guerilla struggle put an end to these dreams as, under pressure from the international community – and especially the United States – the Dutch conceded Indonesian independence in December 1949, mere months before the opening of Ahoy’.48 Not only was this a huge blow to the Dutch empire, which many saw as a source of national strength and prosperity, but it was also a big economic disappointment. The presentation of the Rotterdam port as itself an engine of postwar economic prosperity and independence sought to soften this blow.

The Rotterdam [Municipal] Pavilion, organized by a subcommittee under the leadership of

N. Koopmans, the director of the Rotterdam Port Authority, also summarized, condensed, and reordered the city’s history to make the investment decisions not only seem to be in everyone’s

46 Anonymous (den Schrijver van ‘De Noordzee voor Amsterdam’), De Nieuwe Waterweg van Rotterdam naar Zee: met een Kaart van het Nieuwe Zeegat aan den Hoek van Holland (Rotterdam: P.M. Bazendijk, 1872), 4. 47 Tony Judt, Postwar, 280-281. 48 Ibid., 281.

Chapter Two 104 best interest, but as a historical imperative.49 Divided into five areas, Rotterdam’s history was broken up into neat categories of analysis and consumption, with the first highlighting the city’s development up until 1850, followed by sections entitled “1850-1900: Early Development of the

City and the World Harbour;” “1900-1940, Emergence and Flowering;” “1940-1950, Destruction and Reconstruction;” and finally, “Opbouw: the Future.”50 The cumulative effect for visitors was a sense of historical continuity: postwar reconstruction was made to appear as a natural continuation of a longstanding municipal history. The trade publication De Nederlandse

Werkgever stated that the exhibit would “instill” a deep sense of “respect” for the immense triumphs that Rotterdam had achieved in its history, implying that not investing in the reconstruction of the port would be a historical deviation and disrespectful of the city’s past.51 The architectural publication Forum, which noted that the Rotterdam Pavilion was “the showpiece of the [Ahoy’] exhibition,” went even further, writing that the pavilion made the reconstruction of

Rotterdam’s port seem so impressive, beautiful, and historically necessary that “one can only wish for its fiery realization.”52 In this sense, both the Rijkswaterstaat exhibit and the Rotterdam Pavilion reordered history to construct a particular vision about the postwar world and its priorities, establishing a narrative that placed postwar reconstruction as the logical conclusion to Rotterdam’s urban, industrial, and commercial history.

The exhibition’s venue silently underscored the display of historical continuity.

Constrained by budgetary limitations, Ahoy’’s main architects, Johannes Hendrik van den Broek

(a former member of OPRO, see Chapter One) and Jaap Berend Bakema, from the Rotterdam

49 GAR 315_14, “Tentoonstelling ,,Ahoy” 15 Juni-15 Augustus 1950 Rotterdam,” – subheading “Commissie voor het Paviljoen Rotterdam,” 30; GAR 315_14. Prof. Ir. J.H. van den Broek and J.B. Bakennma, “Rotterdam Ahoy” in Forum: maanblad voor architectuur en gebonden kunsten. Speciale Uitgave, 7. 50 GAR 315_1, “De deelruimte aan de tentoonstelling,” 1. 51 GAR 315_14, “Waar men respect leert: ‘Rotterdam Ahoy’,” De Nederlandse Werkgever, No. 14, July 13, 1950, 322. 52GAR 315_14, B. Merkelbach, “Ahoy’, een mijlpaal” in Forum: maanblad voor architectuur en gebonden kunsten. Speciale Uitgave, 54.

Chapter Two 105 architectural firm Brinkman & Van den Broek & Bakema, reused an exhibition hall originally constructed for the 1928 Dutch Industrial Exhibition (Nederlandse Nijverheidstentoonstelling, or

Nenijto).53 During Nenijto, businesses had exhibited the latest innovations in industry, shipping, and trade in four large exhibition halls. After the war, one of these halls was left standing and moved from its original location, on the Benticklaan just northwest of the Central Station, to

Dijkzigt, the exhibition terrain for Ahoy’.54 The plan was to use the original hall as a base for which

Van den Broek and Bakema would design an extension.55 The plan was approved by City Council on October 20, 1949, and on December 5 mayor Pieter J. Oud ceremoniously struck the first pile during a ground breaking ceremony.56 The repurposing of the old Nenijto halls provided a nice historical continuity between Ahoy’ and prewar Dutch industrial development.57 The hall was designed to look like a combination of working port and a factory, with large open steel structures and resplendent with gantries, wellheads, rigging, and platforms throughout the space.58 There was even a large artificial pond (15x25m2) in its middle, complete with models of the ships that called the port of Rotterdam home.59 Reminiscent of the Dutch De Stijl architecture, pavilions and exhibits in the hall were designed in clean shapes and in straight lines and were conceived in

53 GAR 315_14, “Tentoonstelling ,,Ahoy” 15 Juni-15 Augustus 1950 Rotterdam,” – subheading “Mederwerkers,” 6; GAR 315_14, “Stichting Tentoonstelling 1950, Verslag van de tentoonstelling Rotterdam-Ahoy’ 15 Juni – 31 Augustus 1950,” 3. 54 GAR 315_14, “Stichting Tentoonstelling 1950, Verslag van de tentoonstelling Rotterdam-Ahoy’ 15 Juni – 31 Augustus 1950,” 3. 55 Floris Paalman, Cinematic Rotterdam: the Times and Tides of a Modern City (Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 2011), 213. 56 GAR 315_14, “Stichting Tentoonstelling 1950, Verslag van de tentoonstelling Rotterdam-Ahoy’ 15 Juni – 31 Augustus 1950,” 3. 57 Tony Bennett, “The Exhibitionary Complex,” New Formations 4 (Spring 1998), 90. 58 GAR 315_14, Prof. Ir. J.H. van den Broek and J.B. Bakema, “Rotterdam Ahoy” in Forum: maanblad voor architectuur en gebonden kunsten. Speciale Uitgave, 3-10. 59 GAR 315_1, “De deelruimte aan de tentoonstelling,” 2; GAR 315_14, H. Hendriks, “De wandschilderkunst op tentoonstellingen,” in Forum: maanblad voor architectuur en gebonden kunsten. Speciale Uitgave, 45.

Chapter Two 106 modern materials such as glass and steel. This architectural modernity linked industrial progress and productivity with a modern and clean aesthetic.60

One of the main exhibits in the Ahoy’ hall was the pavilion organized by the Economic

Cooperation Administration (E.C.A.), the United States government agency tasked with the administration of the Marshall Plan.61 Connected to other exhibits via a bridge, “uncle Marshall’s pavilion,” as one newspaper put it, “floated” in the middle of the hall.62 The central and elevated position of the Marshall pavilion was no doubt a symbolic representation of the centrality of

Marshall aid to the resurrection of the port.63 The Netherlands received around one billion dollars in aid from the E.R.P., accounting for roughly five per cent of Dutch national income between

1948 and 1951. It was also the second-highest “ratio of Marshall aid to GNP in Europe,” after

Austria only.64 The full impact of the Marshall Plan went beyond mere economic statistics, however. As Bart van Ark points out, “without Marshall aid the Dutch government would have been forced to restrict consumption and investment expenditures further because of a shortage of dollars in 1947. This would have made the policy for reconstruction even more centralistic than it already was.”65 Indeed, American help was presented, probably rightfully, as an important precursor to an expected postwar national prosperity.

The E.R.P. exhibit was mostly a celebration of what had already been achieved thanks to the infusion of Marshall Plan money into the port of Rotterdam. This was contrary to most of the other exhibits at the fair, which built on the anticipation of prosperity, rather than a celebration of

60 For a specific breakdown of the exhibits, see the promotional booklet GAR 315_4 “Tentoonstelling ,,Ahoy” 15 Juni-15 Augustus 1950 Rotterdam,” 4-8. 61 GAR 315_1, “De deelruimte aan de tentoonstelling,” 9. 62 GAR 315_1, “De deelruimte aan de tentoonstelling,” 2, 9; GAR 315_14, unknown newspaper clipping: “In de grote hal zweeft oom Marshall.” 63 GAR 315_1, “De deelruimte aan de tentoonstelling,” 2. 64 Bart van Ark, Jakob de Haan, and Herman J. de Jong, “Characteristics of economic growth in the Netherlands,” 303. 65 Ibid.

Chapter Two 107 its arrival. Exhibits highlighted Rotterdam’s industrial capacity and capability and stressed its preeminent position along the Rhine river to convince international audiences of its viability as a strong and successful postwar port, and local audiences of the near inevitability of postwar prosperity. The narrative went something like this: if production methods are so modern and if the port is so favourably situated, Rotterdam cannot help but be successful. In this light, almost all of the exhibits at Ahoy’, including those by Unilever, Shell, Van Nelle, Stokvis, Leerdam Glass,

Caltex, and K.L.M., highlighted and celebrated industrial capacity, rather than actual results or output.66 Production was shown as an evolution from the past, showing the drastic departure from what had come before, rather than as the actual results of current activity. Along the eastern wall of the Ahoy’ hall was a pavilion dedicated to trade on the Rhine river. The exhibit was shaped along a bridge which ran along the length of the wall. As visitors walked along the bridge, they were presented with data, models, dioramas, and photos, which situated Dutch industrial strength in the geographic location of the port of Rotterdam. Near the end, the bridge opened up to a view of the ground floor, where a model of Rotterdam, located on the mouth of the Rhine, presented itself as the world’s prime Rhine port. For reference a globe was placed next to the model, so as to make people aware of the importance of the Rhine river.67 Collectively, all these pavilions focused on the city’s industrial pedigree and history, thereby highlighting to international audiences

Rotterdam’s industrial capacity, and to local audiences the inevitability of postwar prosperity.

Anticipation of recovery was also shown in the inclusion of an exhibit dedicated to vocational training (vakopleiding). This, once again, showed international audiences that

Rotterdam had a solid, well-educated workforce (or least would soon have one), and demonstrated to local audiences that the recovery of the port would lead to well-paying jobs for all. Five

66 GAR 315_1, “De deelruimte aan de tentoonstelling,” 3. 67 Ibid., 2.

Chapter Two 108 pavilions, the entrance to which was emblazoned with the motto “The Future is in the Hands of

Our Youth” (In de handen van de jeugd ligt de toekomst), each housed different aspects of vocational training, for both boys and girls.68 Over the summer break, group tours to different harbour facilities were organized, and private companies gave workshops elucidating different aspects of working for their company.69

The pavilion organized by the Rotterdam Municipal Electricity Company (Gemeente-

Energiebedrijf Rotterdam) likewise underscored the theme that industrial recovery was in the long- term benefit of every citizen of Rotterdam. The pavilion demonstrated how coal was transformed into natural gas for the use of heating and electricity. As part of the pavilion, a small, but real chunk of coal would be put into a real oven, which was heated to a 1000 degrees Celsius. The gas that escaped in this process was channeled into different tubes, where first tar and then ammonium was removed. Near the end of the model was a stove with a pot of water which was brought to a boil by use of the gas that people had just witnessed being produced.70 The model clearly made the connection between industrial productivity and the comforts of domestic life. This way of highlighting the connections between industry and private well-being and consumption foreshadowed the approach taken by the E55 exhibition of 1955, which will be discussed in

Chapter Three.

To underscore how important organizers thought it was to make sure visitors understood the connections, they associated a prize-draw with the pavilion. Visitors had to label each component of the display on a diagram and would then be entered to win a “Prestcold Electric

Refrigerator.”71 This was an amazing prize at a time when ownership of refrigerators in the

68 GAR 315_14, Prof. Ir. J.H. van den Broek and J.B. Bakennma, “Rotterdam Ahoy” in Forum: maanblad voor architectuur en gebonden kunsten. Speciale Uitgave, 7. 69 GAR315_14, “Beloning voor jeudige Ahoy’-medewerkers,” unknown newspaper clipping, 70 GAR 315_14, “Van steenkool tot gas (in het klein)” unknown newspaper clipping, July 27, 1950. 71 GAR 315_14, “Prijsvraag: Rotterdam-Ahoy’ – Afd. Electrotechniek.”

Chapter Two 109

Netherlands stood at less than 10 per cent. In fact, even in 1957, a full seven years after Ahoy’, the

Netherlands was still behind West Germany, where ownership of refrigerators stood at only 12 per cent.72 The refrigerator, moreover, was a carefully chosen prize, at it carried important symbolic and predictive qualities. The ownership of a refrigerator meant that “the suburban housewife, using the family automobile, could buy in bulk for several days and store her purchases in fridge or freezer.”73 As such, it denoted much more than just a fridge; it was symbolic of one’s socio- economic station. As Tony Judt has pointed out, the low fridge-ownership in the early 1950s “was not so much technical… as logistic: until housewives could afford to buy a lot of perishable food at one outing, and could transport it home, there was not much point in spending large sums of money on a fridge.”74 The fridge, therefore, was an important harbinger and symbol of the consumer prosperity that Ahoy’ implicitly promised to deliver by first and foremost focusing on industrial recovery.

While an emphasis on industrial development and recovery was central at Ahoy’, there was also great attention paid to public entertainment. Located across the bridge, south of the main exhibition areas, was Het Park, home to most of the exhibitions’ leisurely activities, with terraces, restaurants, and patios. The clear separation between the two spaces is noteworthy, as later exhibitions would increasingly merge the two so as to make the divide between education and entertainment almost indistinguishable. Het Park offered beautiful views of the river and featured respectable entertainment options such as plays, theatre, sport, fine arts, sculpture, and movies.75

These not only aided the general appeal of the exhibition, but they conferred an element of prestige on the whole proceeding. Because Ahoy’ demonstrated so many new developments and

72 Judt, Postwar, 338. 73 David Reynolds, One World Divisible: A Global History Since 1945 (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2000), 158. 74 Judt, Postwar, 338. 75 GAR 315_14, “Stichting Tentoonstelling 1950, Verslag van de tentoonstelling Rotterdam-Ahoy’ 15 Juni – 31 Augustus 1950,” 5.

Chapter Two 110 innovations, popular entertainment and culture also represented a reprieve from the new and an escape to the familiar. The presence of art made a statement about the high culture of the postwar period. This was something that might otherwise be missing at an exhibition that largely focused on industrial and technological prowess. Many local artists and architects were involved in the planning and execution of Ahoy’, such as designs by Paul Schuitema, symbolic murals by Dolf

Henkes, expressive sculptures by Karel Appel, and documentary photography by Cas Oorthuys.76

The inclusion of these artists gave a cultural authority to the exhibition that otherwise would have remained absent.77

But not all entertainment necessarily had a higher cultural or symbolic quality. Het Park also featured concessions and traditional Dutch dancing and singing contests, giving expression to what many felt was a nationalist and folkloric element of Dutch culture that had been suppressed during the war years.78 Areas such as Old Rotterdam (Oudt-Rotterdam) and The Happy Corner

(De Vrolijcke Hoeck) were made to look like old Dutch villages with the charm of a bygone era.

The physical form of the Old Rotterdam in particular, was modelled to recreate the atmosphere of pre-war Rotterdam. It was enclosed with two-dimensional models of a typical Dutch streetscape

(as still prevails in Amsterdam), and surrounded a central square with patios and bar facilities where the mood was always festive.79 In this atmosphere of nostalgic comfort, visitors were entertained with performances by the event’s unofficial mascot, Johnny Ahoy’, who amused audiences with popular folk-songs and off-the-cuff comedy.80 There was also a karaoke contest with special emphasis on the levenslied, a traditional Dutch-style schlager music with simple

76 “Karel Appel’s ‘Levensboom’” NRC Handelsblad, November 14, 1988. 77 Kim Zweerink, “Het Park aan de Maas,” Rotterdams Jaarboekje, Series 1, Year 1, 2009, 188. 78 GAR 315_14, “Een vaasje bier voor de beste zanger(es),” unknown newspaper clipping, June 26, 1950; GAR 315_14, “Ruurlo in Oud-Rotterdam,” unknown newspaper clipping, June 17, 1950. 79 GAR 315_14, “Stichting Tentoonstelling 1950, Verslag van de tentoonstelling Rotterdam-Ahoy’ 15 Juni – 31 Augustus 1950,” 6. 80 GAR 315_14, “Ruurlo in Oud-Rotterdam,” unknown newspaper clipping, June 17, 1950.

Chapter Two 111 rhymes and catchy melodies. The karaoke “winner” was given a vaasje (half-pint) of beer, donated by the Heineken Company. These areas were very popular, as the relative lack of private prosperity in the early 1950s meant that people were hungry for public relief and entertainment. Thus, while

Ahoy’ was first of all a celebration of the reconstruction of the port, Van de Mandele wanted it to more broadly reflect Rotterdam’s dynamism and character, and the popular folkloric and traditional entertainment were crucial manifestations of this wish.81

Popular entertainment, and especially the inclusion of drinking venues, were also tremendous money-makers. Because no money, other than a municipal guarantee, had been made available for Ahoy’, the organizational committees had the responsibility to plan, organize, and pay for the fair, which meant that it had to make money. Bawdy entertainment and liquor were a sure-fire way of doing this. The inclusion of these types of entertainment also broadened the appeal of the exhibition itself. Ever since the Great Exhibition of 1851, “major exhibitions had combined elements of trade fairs with spectacle, education, and entertainment,” and areas like Old Rotterdam and The Happy Corner drew in visitors that might have otherwise stayed away.82 Just like at

Rotterdam Soon in 1947, moreover, there were also special prizes for certain visitors, although the winnings, like the exhibition, were much bigger this time around. The 1,000,000th and the

1,500,000th visitor came to Ahoy’ on August 11 and August 29, respectively, and both were awarded with special prizes. The one millionth visitor was awarded a 10-day trip to Switzerland where, in keeping with Ahoy’s theme, they could visit the source of the Rhine. The one-and-a-half millionth visitor was offered a round-trip to New York on the Holland-Amerika Line. This was a

81 “Kom bij ons aan boord, roept Rotterdam,” Rotterdam Bouwt, Year 5, No.3 June 1950, 4. 82 Harriet Atkinson, The Festival of Britain: A Land and its People (London: I.B. Taurus & Co., 2012), 49.

Chapter Two 112 tremendous prize, especially in the early postwar years when private international travel was still a novelty for most.83

Ahoy’ was initially supposed to run throughout the summer of 1950 (June 15 – August 15), but due to overwhelming success it was extended by two weeks – to August 31. In these two and a half months the festival attracted 1,657,000 visitors.84 Financially, too, Ahoy’ was a great success.

Much of its revenue came from the sale of entry tickets, which sold for ƒ1.50, with special discounts available for children, large groups, and military servicemen on leave from their tour in the Dutch Indies.85 Additional revenue came from the concessions and other special attractions, including the harbour tours. The local business community vigorously supported Ahoy’ and paid large sums for stall rental and greater amounts in putting the pavilions together.86 Rental costs stood at ƒ100/m2 for indoor space and ƒ50/m2 for outdoor space.87 Advertising space on the inside and the outside of the buildings was also available for ƒ125/m2.88 The ƒ1 million guarantee that the city of Rotterdam had provided for the event in March of 1949 turned out to be unnecessary, as the final financial report of October 1952 reported a profit of ƒ107,101.28.89 This did not include

83 GAR 315_14, “Stichting Tentoonstelling 1950, Verslag van de tentoonstelling Rotterdam-Ahoy’ 15 Juni – 31 Augustus 1950,” 7-8. 84 GAR 315_14, “Stichting Tentoonstelling 1950, Verslag van de tentoonstelling Rotterdam-Ahoy’ 15 Juni – 31 Augustus 1950,” 7-8. 85 GAR 315_5, “Notulen van de vergardering van de Commissie Oud Rotterdam, gehouden op 3 mei 1950, ten stadhuize,” 3; GAR 315_5, “Algemene Instructies voor de Controleurs,” 1. 86 GAR 315_14, “Stichting Tentoonstelling 1950, Verslag van de tentoonstelling Rotterdam-Ahoy’ 15 Juni – 31 Augustus 1950,” 4. 87 Ibid., 8. These numbers, found in the official concluding report for Ahoy’, were contradicted by numbers given in GAR 315_14, “Tentoonstelling ,,Ahoy” 15 Juni-15 Augustus 1950 Rotterdam: “Bijlage 8: Algemene Voorwaarden betreffende de huur van expositie ruimte van de Stichting Haventenstoonstelling,” 25, which stated rental costs were ƒ125/m2 for indoor space and ƒ60/m2 for outdoor space. 88 GAR 315_14, “Tentoonstelling ,,Ahoy” 15 Juni-15 Augustus 1950 Rotterdam: “Bijlage 8: Algemene Voorwaarden betreffende de huur van expositie ruimte van de Stichting Haventenstoonstelling,” 25. 89 The city guaranteed ƒ1 million and agreed to take responsibility for the first 100.000 guilder of potential losses. GAR 315_14, “Stichting Tentoonstelling 1950, Verslag van de tentoonstelling Rotterdam-Ahoy’ 15 Juni – 31 Augustus 1950,” 4,8. See also: GAR 315_1, Letter to the mayor and Aldermen from the Municipal Finance Commission, Afd. F. No. W. 3493, Onderwerp: Havententoonstelling 1950, January 24/25, 1949.

Chapter Two 113 the additional tax revenue Ahoy’ had provided for the city of Rotterdam, which was estimated at a further ƒ288,000.90

In the press, Ahoy’ was hailed as a commercial and moral success. Newspapers, such the social-democratic daily Het Vrije Volk, praised its organization and execution, as well as the wide variety of displays on offer. As this newspaper announced the event:

The flags waved from houses and buildings. The closer [to Ahoy’] people come, the more festive the sights of streets and squares became. Everywhere was a forest of flag poles in the national and municipal colours. Everywhere one was greeted by the Ahoy’ mascot. … Rotterdam Ahoy’ speaks to the imagination of hundreds of thousands, from near and far, who want to get to know our city, her people, and her drive. And once more Rotterdam Ahoy’ says to the country, its people and its government, ‘Here we are, Rotterdam Ahoy!’”91

The quote clearly demonstrated that Ahoy’ appealed to a sense of national pride among the local population but simultaneously highlighted the appeal to international audiences. It provided a particular lens through which locals could understand, appreciate, and celebrate the recovery of their port and their city, while at the same time the display of technological innovation and habour capacity signaled to international visitors the economic possibilities that postwar Rotterdam could offer.

Hamburg’s International Horticultural Exhibition (1953)

The 1953 International Horticultural Exhibition (Internationale Gartenbauausstellung, or

IGA) was the first large-scale postwar exhibition in Hamburg.92 It was organized by the City of

90 GAR 315_14, “De winst van Ahoy’ wordt becijferd,” unknown newspaper clipping, December 10, 1950. 91 “De vlaggen wapperden uit huizen en gebouwen. Hoe meer men in de richting van Dijkzigt kwam, hoe feestelijker de aanblik van straten en pleinen werd. Overal zag men mastbossen met wimpels in de nationale en stedelijke kleuren, overal werd men begroet door het Ahoy’-mannetje. … Zo spreekt Rotterdam-Ahoy’ tot de fantasie van de honderdduizenden, van dichtbij en van verre, die onze stad, haar bevolking en haar werkdrift willen leren kennen. En eens te méér zegt Rotterdam-Ahoy’ tot het land, zijn bevolking en zijn regering: „Hier zijn we, Rotterdam-Ahoy’!” Het Vrije Volk: June 15, 1950. 92 Initially, the Hamburg Senate had hoped to host an exhibition in 1950, but this timeframe soon proved unworkable. A motion was passed to set up a bigger, international garden festival for 1952. This was changed almost immediately to 1953 as to not compete with Munich, which had also planned a garden show for 1952 (although it appears that Munich never actually followed through on hosting a Garden Festival in 1952. Essen hosted the Große Ruhrländische

Chapter Two 114

Hamburg and the Central Association of the German Vegetables, Fruit and Horticulture

(Zentralverbandes des Deutschen Gemüse-, Obst-, und Gartenbaues, today the Zentralverband

Gartenbau, or ZVG). Like Rotterdam’s Ahoy’, IGA’53 made a vigorous statement about

Hamburg’s postwar identity. In September 1949, the newly-independent Hamburg Senate had expressed its desire to organize an exhibition to improve the city’s international reputation, increase trade, and strengthen its economic position.93 In the early postwar period, the overriding concern for West German governments at all levels, as well as businesses, was to shed associations with Nazi Germany and forge a new identity. At this time, much of Western Europe continued to think of West Germany “as a threat, not a partner,” and this hurt Hamburg’s trade prospects.

Recovery of the nation at large was dependent on foreign trade, and much of the early postwar years were dedicated to creating an attractive international image of the new Federal Republic.94 It was thus crucial to create a uniquely West German postwar identity that was clearly different from its National Socialist predecessor.95 As Tony Judt has argued:

Internationally condemned after Hitler’s fall for blindly obeying immoral orders, Germans thus turned the defect of their industrious obedience into a national virtue. The shattering impact of

Gartenbau-Ausstellung (GRUGA) that year instead). On June 1, 1951 the City of Hamburg and the Central Association of German Vegetable, Fruit, and Horticulture (Zentralverband des Deutschen Gemüse-, Obst- und Gartenbaues e.V., today known as the Zentralverband Gartenbau), reached an agreement for Hamburg to host the 1953 International Garden Exhibition. On July 31, 1951, the Hamburg Senate Commission for IGA’53 officially acknowledged receipt and began planning. At a congress in Vienna on September 8, 1951 the International Horticultural Association (Association Internationale de l‘Horticulture, AIPH) approved Hamburg’s hosting, thereby clearing all bureaucratic hurdles. Kristina Vagt, Politik durch die Blume: Gartenbauausstellungen in Hamburg und Erfurt im Kalten Krieg (1950-1974) (Munich: Döllig und Galitz, 2013), 105; FZH 361-2 Stadtebau Berichte. “Internationale Gartenbau-Ausstellung Hamburg 1963 – (IGA 63): Beiratssitzung und Pressekonferenz am 19. Okt. 1960.” 3; StaHH 614 3/9, unnamed document, signed by Karl Passarge, Tuesday April 22 [1951?], 2. 93 “eine wirtschaftliche Belebung Hamburgs mit sich bringen wird.” Ausschußberichte der Hamburger Bürgerschaft aus dem Jahre 1951. April 1951, Number 16: 22 Bericht des ständigen haushaltausschusses. Senatsantrag Nr. 70: Deutsche Bundesgartenschau. 94 S. Jonathan Wiesen, “Germany’s PR Man: Julius Klein and the Making of Transatlantic Memory,” in Coping with the Nazi Past: West German Debates on Nazism and Generation Conflict, 1955-1975, eds. Philipp Gassert and Alan E. Steinweis (New York: Berghahn Books, 2007), pgs. 294-308, here pg. 296; Guillaume de Syon, “Lufthansa Welcomes You: Air Transportation and Tourism in the Adenauer Era,” in Selling Modernity: Advertising in Twentieth- Century Germany, eds., Pamela Swett, S. Jonathan Wiesen, and Jonathan Zatlin (Durham: Duke University Press, 2007), pgs. 182-201, here pg. 184. 95 Guillaume de Syon, “Lufthansa Welcomes You: Air Transportation and Tourism in the Adenauer Era,” in Selling Modernity: Advertising in Twentieth-Century Germany, eds., Pamela Swett, S. Jonathan Wiesen, and Jonathan Zatlin (Durham: Duke University Press, 2007), pgs. 182-201, here pg. 184.

Chapter Two 115

their country’s total defeat and subsequent occupation made West Germans amenable to the imposition of democracy in a way that few could have imagined a decade earlier. In place of the ‘devotion for its rulers’ that Heine had first observed in the German people a century before, Germans in the nineteen-fifties attracted international respect for their similarly wholehearted devotion to efficiency, detail, and quality in the manufacture of finished products.”96

Indeed, it could be said that over the course of the 1950s, economic prosperity became West

Germany’s greatest brand, making West Germany and its products salonfähig (socially acceptable).

Hamburg made much sense as the location for a show that sought to highlight economic credentials. The city was the Federal Republic’s largest (after West Berlin, which had an ambiguous status) as well as its largest port. As such, it was crucial for the country’s economic well-being and postwar recovery. Located at the confluence of the Elbe and Alster Rivers and at the intersection of major trade routes between the North Sea/Atlantic and the Baltic, Hamburg’s port had been officially established on May 7, 1189.97 Hereafter, it grew into a regional entrepôt for commercial exchange between much of West-Central Europe and the Atlantic. As the surrounding areas industrialized, transshipments passing through Hamburg increased exponentially, and the city experienced greater growth than any other German city in the late nineteenth century.98 Its particular status as a free city – meaning that it was both a city and a state

– gave it greater freedom in handling its affairs. As trade increased, the city pushed through significant political reforms: an altered constitution, a streamlining of the citizenship process, the removal of constraints on marriage, immigration, and movement within the city, and fewer trade restrictions.99 Taken together, these factors brought tremendous population growth, and by 1913

96 Tony Judt, Postwar, 275. 97 The port privilege, a charter document, is said to have been granted on this date. But it is a forgery and the origins are bit more opague. 98 Clemens Wischermann, “Changes in Population Development, Urban Structures and Living Conditions in Nineteenth-Century Hamburg,” in Population and Society in Western European Port Cities, c. 1650-1939, eds. Richard Lawson and Robert Lee (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2000), pgs. 270-304, here pg. 270. 99 Ibid., 271.

Chapter Two 116

Hamburg had become the third largest port in the world, after London and New York.100 German unification in 1871 made Hamburg the German Empire’s main port and, despite attempts by

Prussia to favour Stettin and other Baltic cities as trade ports of choice, Hamburg’s growth only accelerated in the following decades. Its position as a transfer point between West-Central Europe and the rest of the world attracted an ever-growing number of workers to the city. Between 1867 and 1913, accordingly, Hamburg’s population quadrupled to nearly one million.101

During the Second World War Hamburg’s port sustained tremendous damage, with over eighty per cent of the docks, containers, and warehouses destroyed. As in Rotterdam, the early postwar years in Hamburg were dominated by efforts to reestablish the port as the foundation upon which the recovery of the nation would be predicated. Due to the port’s crucial economic importance, the equivalent of 115 million euros was invested into it in the first postwar decade alone. By 1955, accordingly, the port had reached prewar levels of activity. Despite reconstruction efforts, however, Hamburg’s trade was seriously incapacitated by the postwar partition of

Germany: the course of the river Elbe from Czechoslovakia (present-day Czech Republic) in the southeast to Hamburg in the northwest, meant that much of the hinterland on which the city’s prewar trade had depended was behind the Iron Curtain. The rapid economic growth of the Federal

Republic, which ensured a soaring demand for consumer durables, benefitted the port.102

Nevertheless, the transshipment needs of the West German industrial heartland – the Ruhr – were much better served by the Dutch and Belgian ports of the Rotterdam and Antwerp, given their location between the Ruhr and the Atlantic Ocean.

100 Wei Yim Yap, “Container Shipping Services and Their Impact on Container Port Competitiveness” (Phd Dissertation, University of Antwerp, 2010), 492. 101 Wischermann, “Changes in Population Development,” 270. 102 Strupp, “Das Tor zu Welt, die ‘Politik der Elbe,’” 2.

Chapter Two 117

IGA’53 was a tool to introduce Hamburg’s port and businesses to international audiences and foster a positive international image abroad. As Helmut Puff has written, the IGA’53 “sought to make a vigorous statement about West Germany’s re-integration into the concert of European nations… [and] signal the country’s return to peace, democracy, and internationalism.”103 The port, accordingly, received an image make-over. It was well-known as Germany’s “Gateway to the

World” (Tor Zur Welt), but this was a bombastic Wilheminian phrase, referring to the German

Empire’s drive for a “place in the sun” in the late nineteenth- and early- twentieth centuries.

Nevertheless, the name did perfectly capture postwar Hamburg’s desired international status and after the war the Tor Zur Welt narrative was repurposed to mean something more neutral, friendlier, and cooperative. At IGA’53, as well as at subsequent exhibitions, organizers and politicians referred to the Tor Zur Welt status to denote Hamburg’s (and indeed West Germany’s) postwar economic integration. Accordingly, the 1953 event was announced in Die Zeit as follows:

“Hamburg will not only be presented to guests as a world city, but as the German gateway to the world, as a city of trade, work, pleasure, and an urban landscape of peculiar (eigenartiger) beauty.

Hundreds of thousands will take this ‘Hamburg-year’ as an opportunity to rediscover the Hanseatic city.”104 The IGA will “give “the ‘gateway to the world’ an international character for the upcoming months,” Die Welt enthusiastically added.105

Given that the overriding aim was to recast Hamburg’s image in a friendlier light, the organization of a horticultural exhibition made perfect sense. Because West Germany was still

103 Helmut Puff, Miniature Monuments: Modelling German History (Boston: De Gruyter, 2014), 187. 104 “Hamburg wird sich den Gästen nicht nur als Weltstadt präsentieren, sondern als deutsches Tor zur Welt, als Stadt des Hafens, des Handels, der Arbeit, des Vergnügens, aber auch als Stadtlandschaft von eigenartiger Schönheit. – Hunderttausende werden im „Hamburg-Jahr“ Gelegenheit nehmen, die Hansestadt neu zu entdecken.” Norbert Jacques, “Hamburg – nicht nach dem Baedeker,” Die Zeit, March 19, 1953. 105 In einem Meer von Maiblumen und weißem Flieder eröffnet Bundespräsident Heuss am Donnerstagvormittag um 11 Uhr die „Internationale Gartenbau ausstellung“ als Schirmherr dieser Schau. Die Hansestadt steht völlig im Zeichen I dieses Ereignisses. Siebzehn Nationen aller Kontinente trugen dazu bei, daß die Gartenbauausstellung mit ihren zahl reichen Sonderveranstaltungen und Kongressen dem „Tor zur Welt“ viele Monate lang ein internationales Gepräge geben wird. “Heute Eröffnung der Gartenschau”, Die Welt April 30, 1953, FZH Archiv, 361-2 Stadtebau Berichte, Nr. 100.

Chapter Two 118 seen as the enemy, IGA’53 had to cautiously to present the recovery of its port, avoiding nationalist bombast, lest it alienate trading partners. Horticultural exhibitions, or garden festivals, had a long history of being employed as devices for international relations, and they may be thought of, in the words of Andrew Theokas, “as a world’s fair but with a strong horticultural theme and presence.”106

Garden festivals, as another author put it, “emerged from larger events in the late nineteenth century where nations displayed their prestige and wares at International Exhibitions. Those events generally took place in parks and in addition might feature special gardens, either mounted by an exhibiting nation, or used to enhance the site, which is what Frederick Law Olmsted did for the the World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893.”107 These events showcased the countries participating in them, giving them a chance to demonstrate their industrial might, and to display their commercial and industrial products to the world. 108

While no politician or organizer for IGA’53 outwardly proclaimed that hosting a horticultural exhibition would be a “politically safe” way of reintroducing Hamburg to international audiences, I argue that the recent war and the National Socialist past made an event like Ahoy’, which was highly nationalistic and bombastic, unsuitable for achieving Hamburg’s goals of attracting new business and trade. Horticultural exhibitions promoted political, economic, cultural, and urban interests more subtly, and as such could fulfill the Hamburg Senate’s explicit wishes of improving the city’s international reputation.109 As Amelia Wright has explored: “many cultural festivals explore or draw attention to contemporary themes, and invite public participation

106 Andrew Theokas, Grounds for Review: The Garden Festival in Urban Planning and Design (Liverpool: Liverpool university Press, 2004), 1. 107 John Dixon Hunt, The Making of Place: Modern and Contemporary Gardens (London: Reaktion Books, 2015), Chapter 3. 108 Marja L Roholl, “De fototentoonstelling Wij Mensen – The Family of Man in het Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam: een Amerikaans familiealbum als wapen in de koude oorlog,” in Het Beeld in de Spiegel: Historiografische Verkenningen (Hilversum: Uitgeverij Verloren, 2000), pgs.133-152, here pg. 149. 109 “Da der Hamburger Senat sich als europafreundlich verstand und Hamburg als Hafen- und Handelsstadt stärken wollte, hatte er ein besonderes interesse daran, durch ein internationales Ereignis Kontakte zu knüpfen und Hamburg ms Gespräch zu bringen.” Vagt, Politik Durch die Blume, 105.

Chapter Two 119 and questioning, they tend to utilize installations that are more conceptually approachable than those seen at garden festivals.”110 Accordingly, a horticultural show allowed Hamburg’s local elites to demonstrate their superiority over competitors without being too obvious about it: the city was the largest transshipment port for tropical fruits, and one of the largest cultivation centres for fruits and vegetables in all of Germany, but the IGA’53 framed this in a friendlier way than other exhibitions might have.111 It was also, as a proposed promotional flyer put it, “particularly favorably… located in the center of one of Germany's largest flower, fruit, and vegetable cultivation areas, and in close proximity to the world-famous rose gardens and tree nurseries of

Schleswig-Holstein.”112 Indeed, Hamburg’s port accounted for 51 per cent of the tropical fruit imports into Western Europe, far ahead of Rotterdam with 24 per cent and Bremen with 12.5 per cent.113 West Germany was boasting about flower exports, not weapons manufacturing, and this was a big difference. Garden shows were also very popular in West Germany – they had been organized in Landau in 1949, Stuttgart in 1950, Hannover in 1951, and Essen in 1952 – and they focused international attention on the host city for something innocent and friendly.114 Thus, “at a time when public conversation in western Europe was intensely and divisively politicized,”

Hamburg and the Federal Republic remained curiously apolitical in their outward presentations.115

The organization of IGA’53 established patterns and connections that guided the organization of subsequent IGAs in Hamburg in 1963 and 1973. As a joint-effort between the City of Hamburg and the Central Association of German Vegetable, Fruit, and Horticulture, the

110 Amelia Wright, Future Park: Imagining Tomorrow’s Urban Parks (Collingwood: CSIRO Publishing, 2013), 279. 111 StaHH, 614 3/9_1, “Motto: Wenn der Gärtner schläft pflanzt der Teufel Unkraut,” 2. 112 StaHH, 614 3/9_8, “Internationale Gartenbau-Ausstellung Hamburg 1953, 30. April – 11. Oktober,” 1 113 StaHH, 614 3/9_1, “Motto: Wenn der Gärtner schläft pflanzt der Teufel Unkraut,” 2. 114 StaHH 614 3/9_8, Karl Passarge, “Die Olympiade der Gärtner: Hamburgs Internationale Gartenbau-Ausstellung 1953,” 1. Landau organized the first postwar German Garden Festival, Südwestdeutsche Gartenschau (SÜWEGA) in 1949. This was followed by Stuttgart’s 1950 Deutsche Gartenschau, Hannover’s Bundesgartenschau (BUGA) in 1951, and Essen’s Große Ruhrländische Gartenbau-Ausstellung (GRUGA) in 1952. 115 Tony Judt, Postwar, 205.

Chapter Two 120 organization of IGA’53 fell to a main committee (Gesamtleitung), supported by a Hamburg Senate

Committee (Senatskommission) and an Advisory Committee (Beirat) appointed by the mayor.116

Additionally, special committees were responsible for specific exhibits and were run by experts from their respective fields.117 The Senate Committee was led by the mayor, Max Brauer (SPD, r.

1946-1953, 1957-1960), and included a number of Senators, including Friedrich Frank and

Heinrich Landahl. The advisory board was made up of members of the Senate, the Bürgerschaft, and local specialists and experts, all of whom were appointed by the mayor.118 The main organizational committee (Gesamtleitung) was headed by Chairman (Staatssekretär) Karl

Passarge. As the deputy to the Director of the Central Office for Food and Agriculture in the British

Zone, Passarge had been involved in organizing Hamburg’s earliest postwar exhibitions, especially

Our Daily Bread of 1947 (see Chapter One). As Chairman for IGA’53, Passarge worked with the

Directors of Planten un Blomen Park, Henry David and Albert Lubisch.119 Lubisch had been

Director of the park since 1921 (when his title was still “First Director of the Hamburg Zoo-

Ausstellungs-Hallen AG”), and Lubisch and Passarge knew each other from this period.120

Lubisch, in fact, was a major figure in the organization of Hamburg exhibitions, having been involved in over 300 between 1921 and 1963.121

Born on December 19, 1889 in Nuremburg, Lubisch had come to Hamburg by way of

Berlin in 1921. As the editor for the German Hospitality Newspaper (Deutsche

Gastwirtschaftszeitung), he arrived in the city with the idea of hosting a gastronomical exhibition

116 FZH 361-2, “Internationale Gartenbau-Ausstellung Hamburg 1963 – (IGA’63): Beiratssitzung und Pressekonferenz am 19. Okt. 1960.” 3. 117 StaHH 614 3/9_1, ““Niederschrift über die Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 22. April 1952,” 2. 118 The advisory board included Hermann Reemtsma, Maria May, and Dr. H.C. Everling. StaHH 614 3/9_1 “Niederschrift über die Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 22. Juli 1952,” 2. 119 “Lubisch: Prof. Weichmann sehr viel zu verdanken,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 27, 1971. 120 “Die Geschichte der Messe – vom Mittelalter bis 21. Jahrhundert,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 24, 2015; Lubisch, Prof. Weichmann sehr viel zu verdanken,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 27, 1971. 121 “Messedirektor Albert Lubisch 65 Jahre,” Der Eppendorfer, Nr.12, December 1963, 11.

Chapter Two 121 to display the technical and culinary innovations of the early 1920s.122 Persuading the Hamburg

Senate of the suitability of this idea, he was given permission to host the event at the Zoological

Garden in Planten un Blomen. The event, the highly successful Nordwestdeutsche Frühlingmesse

–which would later become the International Trade Fair for North German Gastronomy

(Internationale Fachmesse für die norddeutsche Gastronomie, or Internorga)– was a tremendous success with over 180 vendors participating in only its second incarnation. This show, moreover, ran for many years.123 Shortly after the success of the first Internorga, Lubisch became the first

Director of the newly-founded Hamburg “Zoo-Ausstellungs-Hallen AG,” a position which made him responsible for the city’s exhibitions.124 Lubisch held this position until 1933, when he was fired by the National Socialist regime, and control over the city’s exhibitions was transferred to the Advertising Advice Council for the German Economy (Werberat der deutschen Wirtschaft), which was an arm of the Reich Ministry of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda.125 However, the managing director of the Werberat from 1933 to 1939 was none other than Karl Passarge. After the war, Lubisch became the managing editor of Die Welt newspaper, working with the British occupying forces to establish the newspaper.126 In August 1948, the British reappointed Lubisch to his old position, now renamed the Exhibition and Park Director of the Free and Hanseatic City of

Hamburg, but more commonly referred to as Director of Planten un Blomen in the archival

122 Hamburg Messe und Congress, “650 Jahre Messen in Hamburg,” 3; “Die Geschichte der Messe – vom Mittelalter bis ins 21. Jahrhundert,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 24, 2015. 123 Hamburg Messe und Congress, “650 Jahre Messen in Hamburg,” 3; “Die Geschichte der Messe – vom Mittelalter bis ins 21. Jahrhundert,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 24, 2015. 124 “Die Geschichte der Messe – vom Mittelalter bis ins 21. Jahrhundert,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 24, 2015. 125 Ibid; Rudi Richter, Wirtschaftswerbung in der sozialen Marktwirtschaft (Wiesbaden: Springer Fachmedien, 1959), 37. 126 Tim von Arnim, “Und dan werde ich das größte Zeitungshaus Europas Bausen:” Der Unternehmer Axel Springer (Frankfurt: Campus Verlag, 2012),100; Anja Brix, “Anzeigenwerbung in der Nachkriegspresse (1945-1950),” in Unter Druck gesetzt: vier Kapitel deutscher Pressegeschichte, ed. Jürgen Wilke (Cologne: Böhlau Verlag GmbH & Cie, 2002), pgs. 199-258, here pg. 219; Christina Prüver, Willy Haas und das Feuilleton der Tageszeitung ‘Die Welt,’ (Würzburg: Verlag Königshausen & Neumann GmbH, 2007), 43; Christian Sonntag, Medienkarrieren: Biografische Studien über Hamburger Nachkriegsjournaliste 1946-1949 (Munich: Verlagsbuchhandlung, 2006), 97-98, 113.

Chapter Two 122 record.127 Despite having lost his job to Passarge in 1933, there was no indication of bad blood between Passarge and Lubisch in the committee meeting minutes or other sources. The two men appeared to work together well in organizing IGA’53.128

The organizational committee of IGA’53 was further rounded out by Bernard Hermkes and

Karl Plomin, IGA’s head architect and head garden-architect, respectively. On this committee also sat a number of horticultural specialists and representatives from the Central Association of

German Vegetables, Fruit, and Horticulture. First amongst these was Georg Nowara, renowned horticulturalist and the Special Representative for the Central Association. His official position was as trustee for all the exhibitors. His “Buro Nowara” was responsible for the applications, delivery, customs clearance, display, maintenance, care, and return of the objects and things that delegations sent for display. Nowara handled transactions and technical preparation for seventeen different countries, travelling personally to nine of them to make arrangements with exhibitors.129

Other members were Hermann Neubert, the “Hamburg Azalea King” and Chairman of the

National Horticultural Association (Landesverbandes Gartenbau). Given his importance in initiating IGA’53, for his services to the city he was awarded the Federal Cross of Merit, First

Class (Bundesverdienstkeurz) in 1958.130 Other members of the Gesamtleitung were Carl Radicke and Ernst Schröder, co-founder and president, respectively, of the Zentralverband Gartenbau.

Tasked with organizing the city’s first large, international event after the war, Passarge also faced a problem. The choice of a garden show was not without complexity. The Nazis had extensively used garden shows to disseminate their propaganda of blood and soil. To Adolf Hitler, racial superiority was connected to the land and the purest Germans lived in the countryside, where

127 “Die Geschichte der Messe – vom Mittelalter bis ins 21. Jahrhundert,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 24, 2015. 128 For more on Passarge, see Chapter One. 129 “Zollausland am Dammtor,” Hamburger Abendblatt, April, 30 1953. 130 “Hamburgs Azaleen-König,” Hamburger Abendblatt, November 11, 1961.

Chapter Two 123 they were intimately connected with German land and soil. Large cities, by contrast, Hitler saw as corrupt, dirty, and both fundamentally Jewish and fundamentally Communist.131 Hitler’s architectural advisor, Gerdy Troost, summed up this attitude nicely when she wrote in 1938 that the German bourgeoisie, the typical city dweller, was “indifferent to race, un-völkisch, unsocial, devoid of any deep connection with the community, wedded to money and machines, misled by the Jews, and driven closer and closer to destruction.”132 The idea that purity was to be found in the countryside did not originate with the Nazis. It had its roots before the First World War and espoused in an “an organically linked ‘Aryan’ or ‘Nordic’ community (Gemeinschaft), racially unpolluted and with its roots in ‘German’ soil.”133 In the 1920s this idea found support in the old

Conservative parties who appreciated it as a solution for the lack of social unity in the country.

Hitler’s veneration of the countryside, and his belief that it was essential for the nation’s racial health and spiritual well-being, was reflected in the regional Low German Garden Show in

Hamburg in 1935, as well as in the national Reich Garden Shows (Reichsgartenschauen) in

Dresden (1936), Essen (1938), and Stuttgart (1939).134

What was worse for Passarge was that Planten un Blomen, the location for IGA’53, had been created by the Nazis. This large downtown park was one of the city’s most important civic spaces and had originally been the location of Hamburg’s city defenses (Wallanlagen). A zoo was established on the site in 1865. After operating successfully for several decades, the zoo went into decline during the Weimar era and closed in 1930. The Nazis resurrected the space as an urban park and made it the site for their 1935 Low German Garden Show (Niederdeutsche

131 Robert R. Taylor, The Word in Stone: The Role of Architecture in the National Socialist Ideology (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1974), 55-56. 132 Gerdy Troost, Das Bauen im Neuen Reich, Vol.1 (Bayreuth: Gauverlag Bayerische Ostmark, 1938), 9. Cited in Taylor, The Word in Stone, 104. 133 Taylor, The Word in Stone, 3. 134 Vagt, Politik Durch Blume, 38-40, 57.

Chapter Two 124

Gartenschau).135 The heavy bombardment of Hamburg in the Second World War devastated

Planten un Blomen. The 1953 exhibition thus provided a pretext for the site’s redevelopment as part of the city’s postwar recovery.136 Tree-planting and the general redevelopment of Planten un

Blomen was both a literal and symbolic act of reconstruction, physically removing the park from its Nazi legacy. Because the Nazis had emphatically celebrated Hamburg’s role as “Gateway to the World” in 1935, moreover, the emphasis on trade at IGA’53 could not be too overt.137 In the end, Passarge and the organizational committee agreed that instead of focusing on national competition –a hallmark of the 1935 exhibition and a crucial element in Rotterdam’s Ahoy’–

IGA’53 would focus on international cooperation and friendship.

Correspondingly, the theme of international rapprochement was found throughout the exhibition. The opening speeches, delivered by West German President Theodor Heuss, Hamburg mayor Max Brauer, Charles Meyer (President of the Association Internationale de Producteurs de l’Horticulture, AIPH from 1948-1950) and ZVG president Ernst Schröder, highlighted the reintegration of West Germany into the concert of European nations.138 Max Brauer’s speech also expressed his hope for unity – that the IGA would bring the German people together and bring them closer to the international community.139 “A few years back a terror regime enslaved the

German country in terrible isolation from the free world,” he spoke. The use of the word

“enslaved” (verslavte) here is important, as it silently underscored the notion of Germans as

135 Appropriately, this is also when the name, Planten un Blomen, which is Low-German for Pflanzen und Blumen (“Plants and Flowers”), was introduced. See Matthias Iken, “Hamburgs blühende Gärten: Von Planten bis Blomen,” Hamburg Abendblatt, April 15, 2013. Low-German is linguistically more closely related to Dutch than it is to Standard High German. 136 Eric Parry, Context: Architecture and the Genius of Place (Chichester: John Wiley & Sons, 2015), 171-173; Andrew Theokas, Grounds for Review, 54-59. 137 Rüdiger Buchholtz, “Griff in die Geschichte: Internationale Gartenbauausstellungen (IGA) 1953, 1963, und 1973 in Hamburg,” Verein für Hamburgische Geschichte, http://vfhg.de/bibliothek/118-gig1iga.html (Accessed: November 7, 2016). 138 StaHH 614 3/9_1, “Niederschrift über die Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 17. März 1953, 2. “Das Programm für Hamburgs Festtage” Hamburger Abendblatt, April 28, 1953; 139 Brauer had fled Nazi Germany in 1934 and lived in the United States until 1946. This absence during the Nazi years gave him political legitimacy in the postwar period.

Chapter Two 125 victims, which was used as an integrative narrative in other parts of IGA’53 as well. “Today, this

IGA is one of the best and most compelling pieces of evidence for the return of our people to the family of nations,” Brauer continued.140 The IGA could indeed represent the return of Germany to this “family of nations,” as seventeen countries, from all continents, contributed through exhibits, special events, congresses, and workshops. Altogether, these participations would give “the

‘gateway to the world’ an international character for the upcoming months,” Die Welt enthusiastically reported.141

The theme of rapprochement went beyond platitudes in speeches or the participation of other nations. The opening ceremonies were meticulously thought through to ensure that they would not be too imposing or threatening to international audiences. To this end, and after much deliberation by the organization committee, it was decided not to play the national anthem upon

President Theodor Heuss’ entrance into the exhibition hall. The committee felt that playing the national anthem was too patriotic and nationalistic and, as such, was “not considered appropriate”

(“das Spielen der Nationalhymne bei Betreten der Ernst Merck-Halle durch den

Bundespräsidenten wird nicht für angebracht gehalten.”).142 To further underscore a message of peace and cooperation, during the opening ceremonies visitors were treated to the release of 12,000 carrier pigeons, including three white doves from the opening ceremonies of the Helsinki

140 StaHH 614 3/9_8, Ansprache von Bürgermeister Max Brauer anlaßlich der Eroffnung der Ineternationalen Gartenbauausstellung 1953 in Hamburg, April 30, 1953. “Und noch einige jahre weiter zurück befand sich das von einem Terror-Regime verslavte Deutschland in furchtbarer isolierung gegenuber der freien Welt…. Heute ist diese in internationaler Zusammenarbeit gestaltete Gartenbau-Ausstellung einer der schönsten und überzeugendsten Beweise für die Rückkehr unseres Volkes in die Familie der freien Völker.” 141 FZH 361-2 Stadtebau Berichte, Nr. 100, “Heute Eröffnung der Gartenschau”, Die Welt, April 30, 1953. “In einem Meer von Maiblumen und weißem Flieder eröffnet Bundespräsident Heuss am Donnerstagvormittag um 11 Uhr die „Internationale Gartenbau ausstellung“ als Schirmherr dieser Schau. Die Hansestadt steht völlig im Zeichen I dieses Ereignisses. Siebzehn Nationen aller Kontinente trugen dazu bei, daß die Gartenbauausstellung mit ihren zahl reichen Sonderveranstaltungen und Kongressen dem „Tor zur Welt“ viele Monate lang ein internationales Gepräge geben wird.” 142 StaHH 614 3/9_1, “Niederschrift über die Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 7. April 1953,” 5 (page numbering seems off), bullet # 8.

Chapter Two 126

Olympics the previous year.143 It was in keeping with Passarge’s insistence that IGA’53 was the

“Olympics for Gardeners” (Olympiade der Gärtner).144 To Passarge this meant not national competition, but the spirit of international cooperation and friendship between nations that characterized the Olympic Games.

The Olympic emphasis on unity and cooperation was found everywhere. It was reflected in the IGA’s theme, “Gardeners from all Countries” (Gärtnern aller Länder), and underscored by participation from seventeen nations, including the host country.145 Australia, Austria, Belgium,

Denmark, England, France, Ireland, Italy, Japan, Luxembourg, Netherlands, Norway, Spain,

Sweden, Switzerland, and the United States, all put together pavilions to highlight their national horticultural specialties.146 Of the 500,000 tulips on display at IGA’53, over 300,000 came from the Netherlands, which also sent fruits and vegetables.147 Denmark showed off its tree nursery products (Baumschulprodukten) and Belgium brought fruits, vegetables, and its famed rhododendrons. Italy displayed oleander shrubs, and its pomegranate and orange trees. France sent in fresh cut flowers from the Riviera region, while Switzerland showed off dahlias and irises.

Austria showcased garden architecture, and Japan exhibited its famous bonsai trees.148 Further contributions were on display at the Hall of Nations, which represented the best that horticultural

Europe had to offer. It was filled, according to one source, with “beautiful handcrafted things,

143 FZH 361-2 Stadtebau Berichte, Nr. 100, “Heute Eröffnung der Gartenschau”, Die Welt, April 30, 1953 “Das Programm für Hamburgs Festtage” Hamburger Abendblatt, April 28, 1953. 144 It was referred to as such frequently. See, for example: StaHH 614 3/9_1, “Niederschrift über die Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 22. Juli 1952,” 3; StaHH 614 3/9_1, “Niederschrift Uber die gemeinsame Sitzung der Internationalen Arbeitsgemeinschaft des Erwerbsgartenbaues - AIPH - und der Gesamtleitung der Internationalen Gartenbau- Ausstellung Hamburg 1953 am 7. März 1952 in Hamburg,” pg. 3; StaHH 614 3/9_8, Karl Passarge, “Die Olympiade der Gärtner: Hamburgs Internationale Gartenbau-Ausstellung 1953”; StaHH 614 3/9_8, Memo 22.4.52, “Die Olympiade der Gärtner”; StaHH 614 3/9_8, “Die Schlussakkord der Internationale Gartenbau-Ausstellung”; StaHH 614 3/9_8, “Botschaften und Gesandtschaften der an der Internationalen Gartenbau-Ausstellung Hamburg 1953 teilnehmender Länder”; StaHH 614 3/9_13, “Vorschau aud die Veranstaltungen im Monat Juni 1953.” 145 Charles Meyer, preface in Ausstellungspark der Freien und Hansestadt Hamburg (Hamburg: Ausstellungsverlag Georg Michel, 1953), 34; “Blauer Himmel und Flaggen im Wind,” Hamburger Abendblatt, April 30, 1953. 146 “Rausch der Farben und Blüten,” Hamburger Abendblatt, April 30, 1953. 147 “50,0000 Tulpen: Die Internationale Gartenbauausstellung 1953,” Die Zeit, April 19, 1953. 148 Ibid.

Chapter Two 127 vases, [and] rich statistical material on the economic importance of horticulture in all countries of the world.”149

The desire for unity, rather than competition, was evident in the event’s layout. At previous horticultural exhibitions it had been customary to divide the grounds into parcels and to assign a parcel to each nation participating, similar to a world’s fair. This format showcased competition.

By contrast, IGA’53’s garden designer Karl Plomin (1904-1986) decided that it was better to instead combine all participants into one area. As Die Zeit reported, “the submissions of foreign countries will not be segregated nationally, as was common in similar events before. [Instead], what belongs together is displayed together, the origin notwithstanding.”150 This idea of a common

“Garden of Nations” was understood as a metaphor for postwar Europe at large: the best products of all countries were displayed in a common area, regardless of origin. As Plomin put it, “[t]he purpose of this site was [...] the design of a large garden area , in which the plant material of the participating nations had to be so arranged that [...] a [...] encouraging overall picture has been achieved.”151 The display also spoke to the West German desire to reenter a unified Europe, as well as the German fear that any hint at competition between nations so shortly after the war might not be well received. Finally, there was also a very practical, financial reason to combine all the participants into one area: the construction of individual pavilions and exhibition infrastructure would be a waste of resources at a time when much of Hamburg was still in desperate need of funds for rebuilding.

The man responsible for the idea of combining the nations into a common garden area was

Karl Plomin, a well-known garden architect born in Hamburg in 1904. After studying at the

149 StaHH 614-3/9_8, “Freie und Hansestadt Hamburg Schulbehörde, 30. September 1953: Besuch der Internationalen Gartenbauausstellung durch Schulklassen.” 150 “50,0000 Tulpen: Die Internationale Gartenbauausstellung 1953,” Die Zeit, April 19, 1953. 151 Gerda Gollwitzer, “Die Internationale Gartenbau-Ausstellung Hamburg 1953 ist eröffnet,” Garten und Landschaft, Heft 5 (Mai 1953), 8.

Chapter Two 128

Staatliche Gewerbschule and the Technical University in Munich, he began working for the

Hamburg Parks Department in 1930.152 In this function, he was responsible for the design and lay- out of the 1935 Low German Garden Show in Hamburg, organized by the Nazis.153 He started his own garden design firm that same year, but this was interrupted by war service between 1940 and

1944. After being briefly incarcerated by the British after the war, he restarted his private office and his first major postwar commission, the perennial garden at the 1951 Federal Garden Show in

Hannover, garnered great attention.154 The continuity between the Nazi period and the postwar period in the person of Karl Plomin is interesting but not unique. Garden architect Gustav Lüttige, who designed the Alsterpark which also formed a part of IGA’53, had worked as an independent garden architect in Hamburg during the Nazi years. He had been involved in the design process for the landscape surrounding Gutschow’s Elbe Bridge proposals as well as the new developments surrounding Blohm + Voß.155 Likewise, Hans Bernhard Reichow, who worked as a freelance architect in Hamburg after the war, had worked with Gutschow and Speer in the Task Force for

Reconstruction of Bombarded Cities (Arbeitsstab für den Wiederaufbau bombenzerstörter Städte).

After his successful work in Hannover in 1951, Plomin was commissioned to work on the overall design for Hamburg’s IGA’53.

It was rather ironic, then, that Planten un Blomen was redesigned in an effort to distance

Hamburg from its Nazi past under the guidance of Karl Plomin. The main way by which Plomin attempted to “cleanse” the park of its history was by returning it to its “natural state,” by reintroducing wilderness to civilization.156 While this was obviously impossible, Plomin

152 StaHH 614 3/9_13, “Vorschau aud die Veranstaltungen im Monat Juni 1953.” 153 Theokas, Ground for Review, 62. 154 Franklin Kopitzsch, ed., Hamburgische biographie. Personenlexikon. Volume 1 (Hamburg: Christians, 2001), 239- 241. 155 The feeder streets were designed by Konstanty Gutschow, as discussed in Chapter One. 156 Ralf Lange, Hamburg – Wiederaufbau und Neuplanung 1943-1963 (Königstein im Taunus: Langewiesche, 1994), 279.

Chapter Two 129 nevertheless attempted to make parts of the park seem natural, rough, and unaltered. The absence of human interference made the park appear timeless and eternal. A promotional flyer for IGA’53 touted this same message, stating that the park offered “unspoiled terrain [and] idyllic shorelines,” in the midst of blooming flowers.157 Yet, the departure from the past was also demonstrated by newness. The same flyer highlighted the park’s new amenities, such as a large children’s playground, open-air theatre, and an impressive water fountain, outfitted with bright lights and over two-hundred jets projecting water fifty metres high. The illuminated water display was paired with music to create spectacular water light concerts (Wasserlichtkonzerte). These attracted huge crowds every evening. “Planten un Blomen,” the flyer exalted, “is equipped with all the sights and sounds.”158

The newness of the postwar park was most obviously underscored by the construction of the Philips Observation Tower (Philips Turm), designed by architect Bernard Hermkes, and sponsored by the Dutch firm Philips, whose German division headquarters were in Hamburg. The tower stood thirty-five metres tall and was conceived in the most modern materials – steel and glass – and outfitted with fluorescent tubes that brightly lit it in a kaleidoscope of colours. The

Swiss magazine Bauen + Wohnen referred to the structure as a “symbol of light.”159 As a symbol of the new, modern, postwar Hamburg , its observation deck offered the public a panoramic view of the IGA, and was tremendously popular. In fact, until the opening of the nearby 279.2 metre tall

Heinrich Hertz Tower in 1968, the Philips Turm remained a crowd pleaser.160

The redesign of the park and the addition of new and exciting attractions were the markers of departure and a new postwar age. Sculpture and the fine arts were included at IGA’53 to bestow

157 StaHH, 614 3/9_8, “Internationale Gartenbau-Ausstellung Hamburg 1953, 30. April – 11. Oktober,” 2. 158 Ibid., 3. 159 “Philips-Turm: Gartenbauausstellung ‘Planten un Blomen,’ Hamburg 1953”, Bauen + Wohnen, band 8, Heft 1 (1954), 24-27. 160 Ibid.

Chapter Two 130 a sense on prestige and legitimacy on this new era. At IGA’53 this was most obviously reflected at an outdoor sculpture exhibition entitled Sculpture in the Outdoors (Plastik im Freien).161 The exhibit was overseen by Carl Georg Heise, the Director of the Kunsthalle (1945-1955), and showcased works by over fifty foreign and domestic artists, including Rodin, Maillol and

Lehmbruck, as well as sculptures by Max Bill, Julio Gonazeles, and Henry Moore.162 The inclusion of high culture did not only confer a degree legitimacy, but the international origin of many of the featured artists also underscored the Olympic internationalism that IGA’53 promoted. Plastik im

Freien was a part of the IGA but was not physically connected to the rest of the exhibition at

Planten un Blomen Park.163 According to Andrew Theokas, this was actually the first instance of a decentralized garden show, a concept which would be used more in later decades.164 This separate section of the IGA was organized in the newly created Alster Park, a recent addition to a seven- kilometer “green recreation ring around the Alster Lake… dotted with sailing and rowing clubs.165

This form of organization offered the opportunity to amalgamate previously privately owned lots around the Alster Lake, creating a new fifteen hectare “elongated space of sweeping lawns and specimen trees,” designed by garden architect Gustav Lüttge.166 As Ralf Lange argued, “[t]his project was seen as a continuation of the design tradition of Gustav Oelsner who, in the 1920s, had prevented the Elbe Park in Altona from falling into private hands.”167

With one major exception, the focus on Hamburg’s physical recovery was mostly absent from IGA’53 itself. The Pavillion for Reconstruction (Pavillons für die Wiederaufbau) was a part

161 “Das Programm für Hamburgs Festtage” Hamburger Abendblatt, April 28, 1953. 162 Ralf Lange, Wiederaufbau und Neuplanung, 74; Hans Walden, 75 Jahre Planten un Blomen. Ein Rückblick auf die bewegte Geschichte der "Grünen Oase" im Zentrum Hamburgs; Freundeskreis Planten un Blomen e.V. (Hamburg 2010), 33. 163 Lange, Wiederaufbau und Neuplanung, 218, 74. 164 Theokas, Grounds for Review, 59, 246. 165 Ibid., 59. 166 Ibid. 167 Lange, Wiederaufbau und Neuplanung, 74.

Chapter Two 131 of the Hamburg municipal exhibit at IGA’53 It was dedicated to a “special portrayal of the construction work in the city and the port,” serving to inform the public about these projects.168

The City of Hamburg approved a 150,000 mark loan for its construction, a clear indication of its importance.169 The pavilion was very similar to the earlier museum exhibitions in Rotterdam, chronicling both the destruction of the city and port, as well as providing a framework through which subsequent reconstruction should be understood. Maps, models, drawings, and photographs, in combination with statistics, figures, and numbers addressed the social, economic, and cultural questions regarding the city’s destruction and reconstruction. The highlight of the pavilion were two large relief models - Hamburg 1943 and Hamburg Now (jetzt) – displaying the destruction of

1943 and the city’s postwar recovery, respectively.170

Hamburg Now was a standard reconstruction model, similar to those found elsewhere in postwar Europe, including Rotterdam. It showed reconstruction progress, indicating buildings under construction as well as those that were planned. The model had been commissioned a few years earlier, in 1950, as the city developed its first long-term reconstruction plan. It was subsequently updated frequently to mirror changes and additions to this plan.171 Displayed next to

Hamburg Now was Hamburg 1943. This model was much more interesting, as it was fundamentally different from the common reconstruction models. Instead of highlighting progress and recovery, Hamburg 1943, chronicled, in meticulous detail, the destruction to which the city had experienced over the course of the Second World War. Hamburg’s vast destruction and suffering, resplendently shown with bombed-out houses, churches, and rubble-strewn streets, had been replicated in miniature for the consumption of visitors. Hamburg 1943, and the Pavillion for

168 StaHH 614-3/9_1: “Niederschrift über die Sitzungen der Gesamtleitung am 23. Dezember 1952.” 169 “Wiederaufbau-Pavillon,” Hamburger Abendblatt, December 12, 1952. 170 Karl Passarge, Die Olympiade der Gärtner: Internationale Gartenbauausstellung Hamburg 1953 (Hamburg: Schultheis, 1953), 17. 171 Puff, Miniature Monuments, 186.

Chapter Two 132

Reconstruction at large, was a part of standard school trips over the course of the summer of 1953.

The instruction manual for teachers, developed by the IGA’53 organizational committee, stressed that the model was to make destruction and reconstruction into a personal experience for the young audiences. “Each building, each stretch of road, any place can be seen,” the teacher’s instructions read, followed by the suggestion that they ask their students to identify the streets on which they lived, where they went to school, and so forth.172

Hamburg 1943 was a perfect example of what Helmut Puff has identified as a “Rubble

Model:” perfect miniature recreations of terrible destruction. In his 2014 book Miniature

Monuments: Modelling German History, Puff highlights that rubble models seemed to be a phenomenon exclusive to West Germany. Indeed, rubble models were never part of Rotterdam’s postwar recovery exhibitions. This exclusivity is important, as the detailed reproduction of the city’s destruction further underscored Hamburg’s attempt at creating a postwar image that was non-threatening, friendly, cooperative, and pro-European. Not only did the model of destruction associate Nazi rule with the physical destruction of the city, and as such aid in the legitimization of the postwar regime, it also provided a way to discuss the idea of “Germans as victims” in the aftermath of World War II. As Puff wrote, “in West Germany, urban communities took the lead in commemorating their destruction, foregrounding the local while deemphasizing the role of Hitler and German aggression that triggered these urban devastations.”173 This type of narrative emphasized a collective European experience where all Europeans had fallen victim to the Nazis, and where Germans bore no special responsibility.174 This perspective was in line with the broader aims of IGA’53. As had been the case with the Garden of Nations, organizers at IGA’53 were keen

172 StaHH 614-3/9_8: “Freie und Hansestadt Hamburg Schulbehörde, 30. September 1953: Besuch der Internationalen Gartenbauausstellung durch Schulklassen.” 173 Puff, Miniature Monuments, 4. 174 This is perhaps quite a provocative idea. For a selected scholarship on “Germans as victims”, see introduction to this dissertation.

Chapter Two 133 to emphasize the collective experience of Western Europe. In other words, the rubble model, as

Helmut Puff put it, “obfusciate[d] the specifics of individual guilt or collective entanglements within an all-encompassing cipher of urban disaster.”175

The notion of German victimhood was, as Robert Moeller has argued, “one of the most powerful integrative myths of the 1950s. …[as] it stressed that Germany was a nation of victims, an imagined community defined by the experience of loss and displacement during the Second

World War.”176 As Tony Judt has likewise written, it was “precisely because the personal guilt of the Nazi leadership, beginning with Hitler himself, was so fully and carefully established, many

Germans felt licensed to believe that the rest of the nation was innocent, that Germans in the collective were as much passive victims of Nazism as anyone else.”177 While many West Germans acknowledged that the National Socialist regime had hounded, tortured, and killed millions of innocent victims, any sense of responsibility for those crimes was overshadowed by Germans’ own notions of victimhood; the Red Army had raped and pillaged their way to Berlin, and

American and British air forces had reduced many German cities to smoking piles of rubble and ash in an unprecedented bombing campaign that destroyed 40 per cent of the country’s housing by war’s end.178 By recounting these stories, West Germans, in the words of Robert Moeller, “were able to reject charges of collective guilt briefly leveled by the victors immediately after the war, and claim status as heroic survivors.”179

It is then unsurprising that the only direct references to the Second World War at IGA’53 came in the form of models that showed the extent of German devastation. As subsequent chapters demonstrate, exhibitions in Hamburg reinforced West Germany’s new image as a friendly,

175 Puff, Miniature Monuments, 184-185. 176 Robert G. Moeller, War Stories: The Search for a Usable Past in the Federal Republic of Germany (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2003), 6. 177 Tony Judt, Postwar, 52. 178 Moeller, War Stories, 2-3; Nicholas Stargardt, The German War, 548; Tony Judt, Postwar, 82. 179 Moeller, War Stories, 3.

Chapter Two 134 cooperative, democratic ally in the Cold War, primarily highlighting its economic credentials. Any strength, or power, was shown as civilian and economic. Any reference to World War Two, or to physical reconstruction, meanwhile, was seen exclusively through the lens of victimhood. Indeed, the visualization of destruction provided a cathartic experience for the audience – a way in which they could understand not only their own suffering, but their own past. That they could function as a tonic was demonstrated by the debates and conversations around the models. “People have passionate discussions in front of these maps [sic]… the horrors of the bombing nights come alive again, and wild fury of war, whose destructions were malicious and senseless and who transformed a [once] flourishing city into a crater landscape,” stated an article in the Hamburger Echo.180

The display of Hamburg 1943 further called into question the “repressive hypothesis” concerning postwar West Germany.181 It is not true that the war was not talked about. Rather, the discussion was framed in a particular way beneficial to contemporary needs. Hamburg’s rubble model provides an illustration in its use of a partial reading of the war experience to further a postwar narrative of pro-European inclusion and cooperation. The juxtaposition of Hamburg Now with Hamburg 1943 should furthermore be understood in light of the discussion in Chapter One: a straight up portrayal of a new and radically modern urban plan might have been seen as reminiscent of Nazi planning and ideas. What people remembered of the Nazi plans was not their details, but their symbolism and scale: the broad boulevards, impressive public halls, and propagandistic, “Aryan” neo-classical party buildings.182 In a further complicated twist, some of the Nazi plans for Hamburg would have been right at home in Rotterdam’s postwar plans. The

180 “Zwei Karten,” Hamburger Echo, July 21, 1953, cited in Helmut Puff, Miniature Monuments, 187. 181 This refers to the idea that West Germany suffered from a “collective amnesia” after the war and that Adenauer’s Germany failed to directly face the past. The foundational work here is Alexander and Margarete Mitscherlich, Die Unfähigkeit zu trauern: Grundlagen kollektiven Verhaltens (Munich: R. Piper, 1967). For other scholarship on this topic, see: Norbert Frei, Adenauer’s Germany and the Nazi Past: The Politics of Amnesty and Integration (New York: Columbia University Press, 2010); Jeffrey Herf, Divided Memory: The Nazi Past in the Two Germanys (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1997). 182 Diefendorf, In the Wake of War, 160

Chapter Two 135 desire to match and outdo America had been one of the explicit goals of “Club Rotterdam,” when they sought to redesign the city in the image of New York. Crucially, however, in Rotterdam this goal was not, and could not be, associated with the Nazis. In postwar Rotterdam, the construction of a broad downtown boulevard, for example, was simply presented as a project for the improved economic well-being of the city. In Hamburg, a similar project would have to work hard not to be associated with the Nazi plans for boulevards and military parades.183 This is yet another reason why the exhibitions in Rotterdam stressed a beautiful radically modernized urban future whereas those in Hamburg did not. Thus the demonstration of the two models side by side, which Puff termed “comparative seeing,” also “validated the future against the backdrop of a damaged past.”184

The “fashionably curvy shapes” of the postwar model stood in stark contrast with the destruction displayed in the other.185

A concern for not appearing “too boastful”, “too reminiscent of the Nazis”, or “too threatening” remained a theme for West Germany’s international performances of any kind in the

1950s. Hans Schwippert, an architect from the Deutsche Werkbund involved with the design of the West German National Pavilion at the 1958 Brussels world’s fair (Expo’58):

believed that [West] Germany should distance itself from the past and explicitly renounce the race for prestige and power or the intention to show itself to be superior. Unlike the past, the Germans now worked ‘to live’ and had learned to care about life. Germany was to choose modesty; it was to show that it was ‘average’ and therefore ‘ordinary.’ Only in this way it would be capable of forming a part of the large community of nations to which we aspire, according to documentation accompanying the West German participation.186

Although, because of heightened international attention, the effects may have been more pronounced at Expo’58 than at IGA’53, I argue that the concerns were fundamentally similar. In

183 Jeffry Diefendorf quotes Hamburg Building Director Otto Meyer Ottens on this very topic. Ottens insisted that the creation of an east-west axis in Hamburg would “serve traffic and not parades of brown battalions or victories armies.” Jeffry Diefendorf, In the Wake of War, 208. 184 Helmut Puff, Miniature Monuments, 188. 185 Ibid., 187. 186 Tom Verschaffel, “The Wind Blows Hard But the Sky Remains Blue: The Message of Expo’58,” in Expo 58: Between Utopia and Reality, ed. Gonzague Pluvinage (Brussels: Brussels City Archive, 2008), pgs. 73-93, here pg. 89-90.

Chapter Two 136 many ways, the West German pavilion at the 1958 world’s fair was an excellent demonstration of the problems the country faced in performing and representing its postwar reconstruction.

The Federal Republic had hesitated about participating in Expo’58, given the concern that the country’s recent past made its participation problematic for international audiences.187 When the decision was finally made to participate, the question of how to represent postwar West

Germany became pertinent. Journalist Claudia Hoff expressed this difficulty in an article in the magazine Bauwelt in 1958:

How difficult it is to give representation to [West] Germany with balance and perspective at the 1958 World’s Fair. Not only does the political condition of a divided Germany (in Brussels only the Federal Republic is represented, as Belgium and the DDR maintain no diplomatic relations) contribute to the uncertainty of [West] German participation, but only with tact and humility can we overcome the resistance and resentment of other peoples… Dare we, at an international event, unscrupulously boast of the cultural achievements of the Bauhaus, which are certainly alive to this very day? [No,]… unlike Great Britain, we resisted any symbolism and pomp…and built simply and functionally.188

The organizers of the West German Pavilion at Expo’58, like the organizers of IGA’53, were well aware that choosing an appropriate tone and image was difficult given the country’s recent history.

The location further reinforced the West German sensibilities regarding its reconstruction performances. In contrast with the centrally-located and boastful pavilions put on by the United

States and Soviet Union, the Federal Republic “opted for a remote site, with a discrete positioning of several smaller volumes in the hilly landscape.”189 A specially-assembled content committee,

187 Ibid., 89. 188 Wie schwierig war gerade die Repräsentation Deutschlands auf einer Weltausstellung 1958, die Bilanz und Ausblick wollte. Nicht allein die politische Gegebenheit des geteilten Deutschland (in Brüssel ist nur die Bundesrepublik vertreten, da Belgien mit der DDR keine diplomatischen Beziehungen pflegt) trug zu der Unsicherheit des deutschen Auftretens bei, nicht allein die nur mit Takt und eben mit Bescheidenheit zu überwindenden Widerstände und Ressentiments bei anderen Völkern…. Dürfen wir uns etwa in einer internationalen Begegnung skrupellos der kulturellen Errungenschaften des Bauhauses rühmen, die zweifellos lebendig sind bis auf den heutigen Tag? … Die Architekten, die auf Repräsentation oder gar einen gewissen Pomp, wie ihn Großbritannien bietet, verzichten, sachlich und einfach konstruiert haben, haben dieser Tatsache entsprochen. Claudia Hoff, “Das Brüsseler Welttheater,” in Bauwelt Heft 20 (1958), 471-473, here p. 471. 189 Rika Devos, “‘Let us now invest in peace.’ Architecture at Expo 58 in Resonance of War,” in Architecture of Great Expositions, 1937-1959: Messages of Peace, Images of War, ed. Rika Devos, Alexander Ortenberg, and Vladimir Paperny (Burlington: Ashgate, 2015), pgs. 133-159, here pg. 149.

Chapter Two 137 moreover, made sure that “everything which could be interpreted as an accusation or as a special stress on presentation should be avoided.”190 The Federal Republic was represented “through a discourse on the daily life of the German people and their universal, human aspirations.”191 There were no flashy displays of celebration or sensational demonstrations of space-age technological prowess as this might have been construed as too threatening. Instead, the West German display was a subdued display; a simple, straightforward, and unpretentious look – “all qualities espoused by the nascent republic.”192

As with the German Pavilion at Expo’58, modesty was an overriding concern at IGA’53.

Promotional slogans for the event, such as “Hamburg Goes Wild” (Hamburg steht Kopf), were rejected because they sounded too pompous and were ultimately seen as “untrustworthy.”193 The choice of a horticultural exhibition in 1953 thus made good sense. The presentation of a “new

Hamburg” as an innocuous landscape of lawns, fountains, and pleasure gardens would give the exhibition a more humanized image and context.

IGA’53 was the longest and most extensive postwar exhibition in Hamburg up until that point.194 It ran for 165 days, from April 30 to October 11, 1953 and attracted five million visitors.195

On its opening day on April 30, 1953, the press enthusiastically reported the event with headlines trumpeting “Hamburg’s Big Day,” “Festive Thursday,” and “A Look into Dreamland.”196 The event was clearly about much more than horticulture. It was designed to promote trade and the

190 Wend Fisher and G.B. von Hartmann, eds., Deutschlands Beitrag zur Weltausstellung Brüssel 1958. Ein Bericht (Düsseldorf: Generalkommissar der Bundesrepublik Deutschland bei der Weltausstellung Brüssel 1958), 55. 191 Devos, “Let us now invest in peace,” 146-147. 192 Deborah Asher Barnstone, The Transparent State: Architecture and Politics in Postwar Germany (New York: Routledge, 2005), 53. 193 StaHH 614 3/9_1, “Niederschrift über die Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 2. Dezember 1952,” 1. 194 Vagt, Politik durch die Blume, 107. 195 Deutsche Bundesgartenschau Gesellschaft, “IGA Hamburg 1953,” http://bundesgartenschau.de/buga- iga/bisherige-gartenschauen/iga-hamburg-1953.html (Accessed April 7, 2016) 196 FZH 361-2 Stadtebau Berichte, Nr. 101, “Hamburgs großer Tag,” Die Welt, May 1, 1953; FZH 361-2 Stadtebau Berichte, Nr. 98, “Festlicher Donnerstag: Neue Lombardsbrücke – Gartenschau – Plastik im Freien”, Die Welt, April 28, 1953; FZH 361-2 Stadtebau Berichte, Nr. 100, “Blick ins Traumland” Die Welt April 30, 1953.

Chapter Two 138 postwar economic revival of Hamburg in a similar way to what Ahoy’ did for Rotterdam. As mayor

Brauer confessed to the press on opening day, the “horticultural exhibition was an engine for

Hamburg’s general reconstruction… [and] captured the whole city [in] an effort to make Hamburg beautiful again.”197 Indeed, as the Hamburger Abendblatt reported continued: “It almost falls hard to conjure up the horrors that dominated our city [only] ten years ago.”198

Conclusion:

In the end it is clear that despite their widely different set-ups, Ahoy’ and IGA’53 had similar goals and intentions. As the first large international postwar exhibitions hosted in

Rotterdam and Hamburg, the events marked the reentry of Rotterdam and Hamburg onto the world stage after the Second World War and served to draw attention to the recovery of the city’s port and trade capabilities. To domestic audiences, this same narrative of success and recovery was used to legitimate the choices the local elites had made vis-à-vis the process of reconstruction.

Ahoy’ in particular reinforced a narrative that secured public consent by explaining and justifying what might have been seen as a skewed approach to postwar recovery. The astounding economic and industrial recovery of Hamburg and Rotterdam in the early 1950s was presented, explicitly or implicitly, as a precursor to private prosperity.

The promise that industrial investment would lead to prosperity for all was not false.

Moreover, it was always supposed to be temporary, a way to quite literally kick-start the economy.

After 1951, Western European economies took off. Investments shifted to focus on civic infrastructure, real incomes steadily rose, and citizens entered a period of mass prosperity.199 The next chapter we will look at how the new mass consumer society was introduced to Dutch and

197 “Rausch der Farben und Blüten, Hamburger Abendblatt, April 30, 1953. 198 Ibid. 199 De Grazia, Irresistible Empire, 348.

Chapter Two 139

West German audiences, how it was represented in the context of postwar recovery, and the far- reaching consequences of mass prosperity on goals, values, and desires of postwar citizens in both

Rotterdam and Hamburg.

Chapter Three 140

Chapter 3: Banishing Cinderella: Mass Prosperity and “Productive” Home Life

In 1955, the Hamburger Abendblatt, a daily newspaper, announced the opening of the exhibition You and Your World (Du und Deine Welt) with the headline: Cinderella [is] Unmodern

(Aschenputschel Unmodern).1 You and Your World was the first of what became an annual trade show in Hamburg, exhibiting the latest consumer durables and labour-saving appliances. The headline referred to the fact that Cinderella, whose days were spent scrubbing floors and doing chores, was part of the past, unmodern and unfashionable. Postwar West Germany, the headline implied, had left this past of toil and dirt behind in favour of an age of material abundance. You and Your World, and similar displays in Rotterdam, were announcements of a new age in which productive and labour-saving appliances were within the reach of all: a new age of mass prosperity.2 In the years since Ahoy’ and IGA’53, the economies of the Netherlands and West

Germany had shifted from repairing and making up for what had been lost during the war to a period of unrivalled expansion. After 1952, gross domestic product in the Netherlands grew between 4.5 and 5 per cent every year for the remainder of the decade.3 Accordingly, per capita income doubled and real income tripled.4 The case was even more extreme in West Germany,

1 “Aschenputtel unmodern,” Hamburger Abendblatt, August 11, 1955. 2 I use the term mass prosperity to mean the idea that the general public (the “masses”) entered a period of unprecedented prosperity. It was a precondition for (but not the same as) mass consumption that would follow shortly after, when most could participate in the spoils of the postwar economic miracle. For similar uses of this term, see Lizabeth Cohen, A Consumer’s Republic: The Politics of Mass Consumption in Postwar America (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2003), pgs. 152, 351; Vincent Curcio, Chrysler: The Life and Times of an Automotive Genius (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000); Jan L. Logemann, Trams or Tailfins: Public and Private Prosperity in Postwar West Germany and the United States (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2012). Lisle A. Rose, Farewell to Prosperity: Wealth, Identity, and Conflict in Postwar America (Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 2014). Werner Abelhauser describes similar developments in West Germany, but does not use the term “mass prosperity.” Werner Abelhauser, The Dynamics of German Industry: Germany’s Path toward the New Economic and the American Challenge (New York: Berghahn Books, 2005). 3 Kees Schuyt and Ed Taverne, Dutch Culture in a European Perspective, Vol. 4: 1950: Prosperity and Welfare (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004), 245. 4 Ibid., 38.

Chapter Three 141 where the gross national product grew by a stunning average of 8.2 per cent annually between

1950 and 1960 and real incomes doubled.5

As Chapter Two explored, the initial focus of recovery in Rotterdam and Hamburg, as in the Netherlands and West Germany at large, had highlighted economic infrastructure, including ports, railways, bridges, and so on. While an initial period of penury had followed for most citizens, industrial investments laid a foundation for spectacular economic growth in subsequent decades.

Starting around 1953, both the Netherlands and West Germany, buoyed by growing productivity, low unemployment, and steadily rising real incomes, entered a period of mass prosperity. The effects of postwar recovery thus finally became evident to average citizens, who had more money to spend, more free time during which to spend it, and more products to spend it on. Although scholars like Axel Schildt have argued that this prosperity did not reach everybody at the same time, and that the 1950s continued to be thrifty years for most, the middle of the decade saw marked improvements in standards of living and individual purchasing power.6 Even if people bought things to replace items lost or damaged during the war, this still meant that money was available to make these purchases where it had not been before. German economic historian Werner

Abelhauser, moreover, pointed out that in the 1950s West Germany “entered the age of mass consumption…[and] durable consumer goods were no longer confined to middle and upper income groups; they infiltrated nearly all strata of the population.”7 The case was much the same

5 The 8.2 per cent average excludes Berlin and the Saar. (See: Herbert Giersch, Karl-Heinz Paqué, and Holger Schmiedling, The Fading Miracle: Four Decades of Market Economy in Germany (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 4.) Growth rates varied also quite drastically over the course of the decade, however. From a low of 3.7 per cent in 1955 and as high as 12 per cent in 1958. See: Axel Schildt, Moderne Zeiten: Freizeit, Massenmedien und “Zeitgeist” in der Bundesrepublik der 50er Jahre (Hamburg: Christians Verlag, 1995), 43. 6 Alex Schildt, Moderne Zeiten: Freizeit, Massenmedien, und ‘Zeitgeist’ in der Bundesrepublik der 50er Jahre (Hamburg: Hans Christians Verlag, 1995). 7 Werner Abelhauser, The Dynamics of German Industry: Germany’s Path toward the New Economic and the American Challenge (New York: Berghahn Books, 2005), 97.

Chapter Three 142 in the Netherlands, where personal consumption of a variety of consumer durables, including the television, skyrocketed in the latter half of the 1950s.8

If any events can mark the arrival of mass consumption in Rotterdam and Hamburg, it would be the exhibitions hosted by each city in 1955. E55 in Rotterdam and You and Your World in Hamburg, introduced visitors not only to new products but to new ways of living. The exhibitions also framed mass prosperity and the availability of new products through a certain lens.

Exhibitions were resplendent with the latest tools to “ease” housework, to clean more efficiently, to dust more quickly, or to wash the laundry more thoroughly. The availability of such new consumer goods and appliances was not only hailed as a marker of a new age; these tools for running a more efficient household were tied to narratives of national reconstruction. The emphasis was on the creation of good and productive homes, which were considered crucial for the overall health of the city and country. With the purchase of these appliances, people would not only be able to run a more efficient household and have more leisure time as a result, they contributed to the overall well-being and recovery of the nation. Housework, as Erica Carter has argued, was constructed “as a public contribution to national reconstruction.”9 In other words, by 1955 the familiar narratives of Ahoy’ and IGA’53 were extended to the domestic sphere, as productivity and economic prosperity became the foundation of national identity at home. Renewal of the nation was no longer based on abstract qualities of the national economy, but instead it was found in the domestic sphere. As such, E55 and You and Your World were more than just trade shows; they were constructions of a new postwar way of life, and best understood as a tool through which the new mass-consumer society was performed as national identity.

8 Jan C. van Ours, Gezinsconsumptie in Nederland: 1951-1980 (Rotterdam: Erasmus Universiteit, 1986), 169-175. 9 Erica Carter, How German Is She? Postwar Reconstruction and the Consuming Woman (Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 1997), 71.

Chapter Three 143

Whereas Ahoy’ had stressed the revival of the city and country through industry, E55 stressed the remaking of the nation through the domestic, the remaking of the nation from the inside out. The availability of new consumer products and appliances was presented as part of what made the postwar Netherlands new and better, and the adoption of these technologies was presented as a way to remove the past and move the Netherlands into a bright new postwar world.

The goods were also displayed as tools by which the country could guarantee its own productivity and success long into the future. Just like the newest shipping technologies had made the harbour more efficient at Ahoy’, by purchasing these new goods, people could buy entry into the postwar world.

In Hamburg, the material spoils paraded by You and Your World were likewise presented as a critical aspect of the postwar world. If the goal of IGA’53 had been the rehabilitation of

Hamburg’s international image by focusing on the city’s economic credentials, that same branding was now used as the foundation of a new postwar domestic identity. The availability of consumer durables not only legitimized the young Federal Republic, but the newfound prosperity papered over fraught social relations and other tensions created by the war. The National Socialist years had torn apart civil society, and in the 1950s economic success became a basis for national reconciliation.10 You and Your World, accordingly, highlighted the newest consumer durables and signaled mass prosperity was a critical aspect of what it meant to be a West German citizen.

Through the purchase of the newest white goods and other consumer durables, West German citizens, and especially women, could create the perfect postwar household.

The arrival of mass prosperity changed Dutch and West German society. Over the course of the late 1950s, the citizens of Rotterdam and Hamburg went from being victims, survivors and

10 Elizabeth Heinemann, “The Hour of the Woman” Memories of Germany’s ‘Crisis Years’ and West German National Identity,” in The Miracle Years: A Cultural History of West Germany, 1949-1968, ed. Hannah Schissler (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001), pgs. 21-56, here pg. 35.

Chapter Three 144 perpetrators of the horrors of the Second World War, to prosperous and self-conscious consumers.

This had far-reaching consequences, as people’s goals, values, and priorities changed accordingly.

Immediately after the war, people had desired peace and stability, as well as food, shelter, and a secure job. Over the course of the next two decades, however, these things would increasingly be taken for granted, with people now wanting more out of life. What became important now was not so much stability or a weekly-wage, but instead a quality of life more broadly conceived.

Rotterdam’s National Energy Manifestation of 1955 (E55)

The National Energy Manifestation of 1955 (Nationale Energie Manifestatie 1955, or E55) was Rotterdam’s second large postwar exhibition.11 Organized to celebrate ten years of recovery,

E55 was set up on a much grander scale than its predecessor, Ahoy’. This was partly the result of the city council’s attempt to secure the rights to host a world’s fair in 1955. On May 2, 1951, mayor

Pieter J. Oud had sent a letter to the Dutch Minister for Economic Affairs, Jan van den Brink, expressing that after the success of Ahoy’, the Rotterdam City Council had decided to host another event in 1955. “The success,” the mayor wrote, “forced us to ask the question as to whether a broader set-up to highlight Dutch, and indeed Rotterdam’s achievements, would be beneficial. We are thinking hereby of an exhibition with an international character, relating to the Treaty of

November 22, 1928.”12 Oud was referring to the creation of the International Exhibitions Bureau

(Bureau International des Expositions, or BIE) which had been established on that date in 1928 to supervise international exhibitions. Oud explained that he believed Rotterdam would be chosen over Brussels, which had likewise submitted an application, as Belgium had hosted a world’s fair

11 Although Kleiboer insisted it would be spelled È-55, believing the accent grave would make the name stick in people’s minds and, presumably, encourage more visits. “Waarom dat streepje op de E?” Het Vrije Volk, October 23, 1953. 12 GAR 315_15, “Letter from Burgemeester en Wethouders to Minister voor Economische Zaken, H.B. 2505, Onderwerp: Wereldtentoonstelling, May 2, 1951.”

Chapter Three 145 ten times before.13 Van den Brink initially responded favourably and asked for further details from

Oud and E55-organizing chairman Jacques Kleiboer.14 However, the plans were put on hold due to financial concerns later that year. They were shelved completely when Brussels was awarded world’s fair hosting privileges in November 1953, as BIE rules did not allow for countries in such close geographic proximity to host a world’s fair so soon after one another.15 Accordingly,

Rotterdam’s E55 offically remained a national exhibition, while Brussels hosted a world’s fair

(Expo’58) three years later.

Although Rotterdam’s world’s fair was not to be, E55 retained a national emphasis and character that was common for BIE-recognized international exhibitions.16 The Swiss magazine

Bauen + Wohnen reported that E55 “was a great manifestation of Dutch culture. Its uniform structure, its life-like, factual content, [and] strong overall form … has a lot of foreign visitors surprised and excited.”17 It appeared to be a world’s fair in all but name. Organizers coordinated recovery celebrations throughout the country, but presented Rotterdam and E55 as the “core of energy” and the symbolic city of national renewal.18 The event’s official program reflected this, stating that E55’s goal was to “show our own people and the world what the energy of the Dutch

13 GAR 315_15, “Letter from Burgemeester en Wethouders to Minister voor Economische Zaken, H.B. 2505, Onderwerp: Wereldtentoonstelling, May 2, 1951.” Belgium hosted international exhibitions were remarkable regularity, seven times between 1885 and World War I alone (Antwerp (1885), Brussels (1888), Antwerp (1894), Brussels (1897), Liège (1905), Brussels (1910), Ghent (1913)). It hosted another three exhibitions during the interwar period (Liège (1930), Brussels (1935), and Liège (1939)). See: Davy Depelchin, “The Ghent Universal and International Exhibition of 1913: Reconciling Historicism, Modernity and Exoticism,” in Cultures of International Exhibitions 1840-1940: Great Exhibitions in the Margins, ed. Marta Filipovà (Burlington: Ashgate, 2015), pgs. 183- 202, here pg. 184. 14 GAR 315_15, untitled memo, October 8, 1951. 15 Kim Zweerink, “Het Park aan de Maas,” Rotterdams Jaarboekje, Series 1, Year 1 (2009), 190. 16 As such, E55 shared a lot of features with the 1951 Festival of Britain, which was likewise a non-BIE recognized national exhibition organized to show the recovery of a nation after the war. For more, see: Becky Conekin, The Autobiography of a Nation: The 1951 Festival of Britain (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2003); Harriet Atkinson, The Festival of Britain: A Land and its People (London: I.B. Taurus & Co., 2012). 17 “Sie war eine großartige Manifestation niederländischer Kultur. In Ihrem geschlossenen einheitlichen Aufbau, in ihrem lebensnahen, sachlichen Inhalt und ihrer starken Form had sie viele ausländische Besucher überrascht und begeistert.” “Stahlbauten an der Ausstellung E55, Rotterdam,” Bauen + Wohnen, Band 10, Heft 9, (1956), pgs. 296- 300, here pg. 296. 18 Zweerink, “Het Park aan de Maas,” 190.

Chapter Three 146 in the ten years after 1945 has brought forth, especially in light of the destruction of World War II and the floods of 1953.”19

E55 shared a lot in common with its predecessor. Aad van der Sluijs, who visited both

Ahoy’ and E55 when he was a teenager in the early 1950s, remembered thinking of E55 as “Ahoy’, but better and bigger.”20 Indeed, both Ahoy’ and E55 upheld a common narrative of national renewal, stressing Dutch efficiency, productivity, and rationality as key facets of postwar recovery.

A critical difference was that E55 focused more heavily on the domestic sphere and private consumption. After 1953, economic growth picked up speed, and the following year nationally negotiated wage increases extended beyond the higher cost of living and amounted to a real improvement in incomes and living standards; the effects of recovery finally reached the general public. It was the beginning of a period that saw steady increases in real income every year until

1967.21 E55 thus presented mass prosperity as a signficant part of the postwar rejuvenation and purification of the country. The consumption of new appliances was presented as further contributing to national recovery by making the household more efficient. The increased emphasis on consumer durables and private spending was evident throughout the exhibition. For example, pavilions dedicated to chemistry at both Ahoy’ and E55 highlighted its benefits for the postwar

Netherlands. At Ahoy’ this pavilion had focused on mineral resources, especially coal and oil, and

19 Ibid. The 1953 North Sea Flood (watersnoodramp) was a major flood caused by a heavy storm on the night of Saturday January 31, 1953 and Sunday February 1, 1953. A storm surge created by a high spring tide and an excessively severe windstorm caused wide-spread flooding in the Netherlands, Belgium, and parts of the United Kingdom. The Netherlands, with a large part of its territory below sea level, was hit hardest, recording 1,835 deaths and heavy material damage. In response, the Netherlands developed the Delta Works, an extensive system of dams and storm surge barriers to prevent future floods of this severity. Michael Siek, Predicting Storm Surges: Chaos, Computational Intelligence, Data Assimilation, Ensembles (Baco Raton: CRC Press, 2011), 3. See also: Hubert Lamb and Knud Frydendahl, Historic Storms of the North Sea, British Isles, and Northwest Europe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991). 20 Aad van der Sluijs, “E’55: manifestatie met veel energie,” De Oude Rotterdammer: Krant voor de 50-plusser, April 4, 2006. 21 Schuyt and Taverne, Dutch Culture in a European Perspective, 249.

Chapter Three 147 had explained how these were crucial to the recovery of the port, the city, and the country at large.22

At E55, by contrast, chemistry also appeared in a pavilion dedicated to mineral resources, but the exhibit now showed how oil was used in the manufacturing process of consumer durables like soap, nylons, and detergents.23

The continuities between the Ahoy’ and E55 were perhaps unsurprising, given that the organizational committee in charge of both events was, excluding very minor exceptions, the same.

Jacques Kleiboer returned as Chairman, and he was once again assisted by Johannes Hasper, in charge of finances, and the architects Johannes van den Broek and Jacob Bakema. Mayor Oud was initially also involved, but was replaced by his successor, Gerard van Walsum, in 1952. Veteran exhibition organizer Karel P. van de Mandele, still head of the Rotterdam Chamber of Commerce, also returned. He coordinated the participation of various companies and industries at the exhibition, both from the Rotterdam port area and beyond.

E55 was a celebration of Dutch national recovery, but it was also a testament to what had been accomplished under the auspices of Dutch governments at various levels and the contributions of Dutch businesses and industries.24 Pavilions still featured photos, scale models, and plenty of statistics, but E55’s main exhibits were grander and more immersive than those seen at Ahoy’. They often featured 1:1 replicas, from entire farms and television studios, to shipyards and full-scale apartments.25 As Harriet Atkinson has pointed out, “producing a spectacle of scale was a common trope of world’s fairs and international exhibitions, which for many decades had seen sites populated with gigantic experimental structures.”26 At E55, however, this was taken to

22 GAR315_14, Brochure “Tentoonstelling Ahoy’ 15 Juni-15Augustus 1950 Rotterdam,” pg. 4. At Ahoy’ “chemistry” was included in two separate pavilions: “Industry General” (Industrie Algemeen) and “Petro-industry (Petroleumindustrie). 23 GAR 315_57, “Korte wandeling op de E55,” March 30, 1955, 2. 24 GAR315_57, “Hoe de E55 tot stand komt,” 1 November 1954. 25 GAR315_64, Nieuwsbulletin 2, 22 april 1955, “Onder de grond.” 26 Atkinson, Festival of Britain, 102.

Chapter Three 148 another level: almost nothing was scaled down. The Rotterdam company Van Nelle constructed a complete tobacco-, coffee-, and tea-plantation in Het Park. The Dutch diary industry established a full scale farm, resplendent with cows of the best pedigree, and the Dutch shipping industry constructed in a pavilion that consisted of a sixty-metre long ship under construction on a slipway.27

To bring such exhibits to life, moreover, they were staffed with actual professional industrial workers and their trainees.28 Even when full-scale replicas were impossible to build, the exhibits were still massive. For example, a pavilion dedicated to trade along the Rhine river consisted of a

1:200 scale model of the flow of the Rhine from the Swiss Alps to the North Sea, and contained

1,300 model ships.29 The model was so large that it actually allowed people to descend into it and walk under the Rhine river by way of a staircase.30 The intention was to create immersive environments that literally towered over people – overwhelming and impressing them with the accomplishments of the Netherlands since 1945 – while simultaneously inviting them to physically interact with this new postwar world through such immersion.

Like Ahoy’, E55 underscored the fact that postwar Rotterdam should be sharply contrasted to its wartime predecessor. Overtures to the postwar as the beginning of a new age were made wherever possible.31 On opening day, for example, Queen Juliana raised the national and provincial flags with the help of twenty-four children, all born on Liberation Day (Bevrijdingsdag).32 They literally embodied the rebirth of the Netherlands on May 5, 1945, their innocence symbolic of a desired national innocence. Other exhibits anchored Dutch postwar achievements in a longer historical narrative that excluded wartime experiences. Exhibits with themes like “Water as Friend

27 GAR315_57, “Pavilloen van Nelle op de E 55,” 31 March, 1955; GAR315_57, “Akkerbouw, veehouderij en zuivel op de E 55,” 15 April 1955; GAR315_57, “Korte wandeling op de E55,” March 30, 1955, 3. 28 Zweerink, “Het Park aan de Maas,” 190; GAR 315_57, “Korte wandeling op de E55,” March 30, 1955, 3. 29 GAR315-57, “Havens, Zee en Rijnvaart op de E55,” 14 April 1955, 4. 30 Ibid., 3-4. 31 “E55-nummer. Opgang naar welvaart.” Nieuwe Rotterdamse Courant, May 1955, 5; GAR 315_64: “Het hart van de tentoonstelling,” Nieuwsbulletin 1, 18 april 1955. 32 GAR315_58, “E55: Succes [sic] of a supra-national Show.” August 8, 1955.

Chapter Three 149 of the Netherlands” (perhaps a reference to the abandoned “Water as Friend and Foe” exhibition of 1941) and “Seafare is Welfare” (Scheepvaart is Welvaart) highlighted not just the port, but the national relationship with water, showing the ways in which the country had struggled for survival against the sea and rivers for centuries.33 It made overcoming part of a long national history, as the contest against the water was symbolic of the struggle to overcome the damage of the Second

World War. Conceived as a walk along an embankment, thirty-eight meters long and three meters tall, the “Land out of Water” (Land uit Water) pavilion surveyed how the country had historically protected itself against water, moving from man-made hills and dredges to protect against storm surges, to dikes, to eventually the hydraulic miracles of the Southern Sea Works (Zuider Zee

Werken) and the Delta Plan, which had been drafted in response to the North Sea Floods of 1953.34

The exhibit celebrated the “great men” behind these innovations, including Pieter Calland, the civil engineer of the New Waterway, Hendrik Lorentz, the physicist who had made possible the construction of the Enclosure Dam (Afsluitdijk), and Cornelis Lely, the civil engineer who had turned dreams of reclaiming large parts of the Southern Sea into reality.35 These men supposedly embodied the best of Dutch history, applying new ideas, scientific ingenuity, and hard work to overcome struggles the country had faced. It was a perfect metaphor for the Netherlands during the reconstruction period when the country’s business and political elites similarly tried to overcome the past by adopting new ideas, technologies, and industries.

At E55 newness and overcoming the past was especially emphasized by the prominence of consumer durables, such as televisions, home appliances, nylons, and furniture. Even private space-travel made an appearance.36 Whereas Ahoy’ had stressed productivity and trade on a macro-

33 GAR315-57, “Havens, Zee- en Rijn-vaart op de E55,” 14 April, 1955, 1. 34 GAR315-57, “Land uit Water op de E55,” 25 April, 1955, 1-2. 35 Ibid., 2. 36 Zweerink, “Het Park aan de Maas,” 190.

Chapter Three 150 level, at E55 organizers deemed it important to relate production to the needs of the people. The focus on mass consumption and mass prosperity was evident in even the most industrially focused exhibits, which directly connected the new consumer society with the country’s industrial progress. The pavilion for the Dutch National Railways (Nederlandse Spoorwegen, NS), perfectly straddled these ideas. It demonstrated the importance of the train network to recovery of the country (with signs illustrating the total number of passengers and distances travelled since 1945), while also highlighting the railway’s centrality to the new consumer society. The NS, it stated, could carry you to your shopping destination “quickly, safely, and economically” (Vlug, Veilig, en

Voordelig ).37 Other pavilions too, connected the new consumer society with the industrial progress of Ahoy’. A pavilion dedicated to paper production, for example, not only demonstrated the manufacture of industrial paper products, but it also introduced new consumer durables, most famously the milk carton. Packaging milk in anything other than a bottle was a novelty in the

Netherlands, and the pavilion garnered great attention. Aad van der Sluijs recalled his amazement:

“that cardboard box was supposed to replace the milk bottle. Can you think of anything crazier?

Milk in a carton package!”38

Similarly, the telecommunications pavilion stressed the necessity of electricity in the modern consumer household. It gave visitors an overview of its applications in lighting, power, heat, radiation, as well as the telephone, radio, and the most exciting new invention, the television.

A television studio was constructed in the middle of Het Park where the public could see a live broadcast, aptly named TV55. Organizers put up televisions throughout the exhibition grounds to allow people to see the broadcast from almost anywhere. The first Dutch television broadcast had

37 Jelle Hensen, “Tentoonstellingen in de Jaren ’50: E55 te Rotterdam,” Unpublished Civil Engineering Thesis, Ghent University, 2007, 32 38 “Men lanceerde op de E’55 het melkpak; dat kartonnen pak moest de melk- fles vervangen. Gekker kon je het toch niet bedenken: melk in een kartonnen pak!” Aad van der Sluijs, “E’55: manifestatie met veel energie,” De Oude Rotterdammer: Krant voor de 50-plusser, April 4, 2006.

Chapter Three 151 only aired four years earlier, on October 2 1951, and TVs were still a novelty for most. Two years after E55, in 1957, ownership of televisions in the Netherlands still stood at only 8 per cent, indicating that the television was not only a new technology, but that it was still out of reach for most people. “I asked, I begged, I prayed that my dad would purchase a ‘modern’ TV so that we could also watch [TV55] at home,” van der Sluijs recalled. “I did not realize that such a TV-model cost between 1,000 and 1,500 guilders at the time.”39 By the early 1960s, as prices fell and incomes rose, ownership of black-and-white televisions in the Netherlands rose to 25 per cent. A decade later, in 1970, televisions had become so commonplace that families in the Netherlands were

“more likely to own a television than a telephone.”40

The changing emphasis from industry to consumption was perhaps most obviously demonstrated in the chemistry pavilion. Where Ahoy’ had featured a chemistry pavilion that highlighted the importance of oil refinery and other resources to the overall economy, E55’s chemistry pavilion attempted to make science and technology more approachable by highlighting their applicability to daily life. As a press release put it: “Which housewife thinks of the chemical industry when using soap? Does she know that… her modern synthetic detergents are derived from petroleum? And who realizes at dinner that out of the salt, pepper, and vinegar on the table, only the pepper is not a product of the chemical industry?”41 Several national conglomerates participated in the chemistry pavilion, each contributing their own display. An exhibit organized by the Royal

Dutch Salt Industry (Koninklijke Nederlandse Zout Industrie), based in the eastern city of Hengelo, highlighted the many uses of salt. It showed visitors how ordinary kitchen salt was converted into

39 “Ik vroeg, ik smeekte, ik bad m’n vader een ‘moderne’ TV te kopen, zodat wij thuis ook konden kijken. Dat een TV-toestel destijds zo’n 1000-1500 gulden kostte, realiseerde ik me niet.” Aad van der Sluijs, “E’55: manifestatie met veel energie,” De Oude Rotterdammer: Krant voor de 50-plusser, April 4, 2006. 40 Cordula Rooijendijk, That City is Mine! Urban Ideal Images in Public Debates and City Plans, Amsterdam and Rotterdam 1945-1995 (Amsterdam: Vossiuspers, 2005), 61; Tony Judt, Postwar, 345. By the end of the 1960s, the near-ubiquitous presence of the television challenged the exhibition’s role as a tool for mass communication, as will be explored in Chapter Five. 41 GAR 315_57, “Het rijk der moleculen en atomen op de E55,” 1.

Chapter Three 152 sodium carbonate, hydrogen- and chlorine- gas and how these chemicals where then used in the production of bleach, hydrochloric acid, and other cleaning products.42 Likewise, an exhibit put on by the company Dury & Hammes (a division of the Belgian Solvay company) highlighted how salt was used in the creation of its cleaning products. As one of its displays read, “when you clean your clothes with “tri”, you probably never realized that to make this “tri” (trichloroethylene), the chlorine first had to be released from cooking salt using electric energy!” This perfectly summed up the interrelationship between natural resources, industrial and technological advances, and the mass consumption society.43

The Lever Soap Company (the “lever” in Unilever) also contributed a large exhibit, which highlighted the development of the company’s new synthetic detergents, especially Omo and Sunil, which had been introduced to the Dutch market in 1952 and 1954, respectively.44 Like the other exhibits, it showed the connection between industrial and technological advances and the products that people consumed daily; it made the “work” behind these products visible. The products made a household more productive and, in the case of these cleaning products, made it cleaner. In the

Netherlands, the focus on hygiene and cleanliness fed directly into a national narrative of the

(moral) cleanliness of the postwar age. The emphasis placed on cleaning products, laundry, and kids’ hygiene, fed the “purification fantasies” of the time and the need for national moral regeneration. Chemistry exhibits, then, were multifaceted. They served as promotional tools for companies, allowing them to introduce new products, and provided a way for the organizers to demonstrate the technological advances of the postwar world, underscoring the general narrative about renewal they wanted to promote.

42 GAR 315_57, “Het rijk der moleculen en atomen op de E55,” 2. 43 Ibid. 44 GAR 315_57, “De Chemische Industrie op de E55,” 6.

Chapter Three 153

As the chemistry and railway pavilions alluded to, the focus of the exhibits at E55 remained on productivity and functionality, focused now on the domestic sphere. This was also true for the

Building and Living (Bouwen en Wonen) exhibit, which was the closest E55 came to producing a spectacle of mass consumption.45 At more than 3,500m2 and covering an area over twice as large as the next largest exhibit, Building and Living was the largest individual pavilion at E55.46

Supervised by Alderman Hasper and designed by Jacob Bakema, the exhibit cost over ƒ1.2 million to put together, making it also E55’s most expensive.47 Its size and cost clearly indicated its significance.48 Keenly focused on the newness of the postwar age, the exhibit offered information about construction methods and designs, provided workshops on furniture construction, demonstrated the newest consumer innovations in apartment furnishing and design, and gave a clear, if idealized, picture of Dutch life in the postwar Netherlands.49

The Building and Living exhibit was designed to appeal to female visitors specifically. The organizational team of E55, which consisted exclusively of middle-aged men, did not challenge the idea of a woman’s as role being relegated to the domestic sphere. In pre-exhibition discussions they referred to this pavilion as the “domain of the woman.”50 Building and Living was not a trade show, however. There were no prices or specific brands that people could choose from or purchase.

45 The word “wonen” (like the German equivalent “wohnen”) is difficult to translate. The word specifically means “living in a home” (rather than just “living” which would translate to “leven” in Dutch). As such could also be translated as dwelling or inhabiting, although neither of those translations quite captures the meaning either. 46 The next largest pavilion was the abattoir, at 1,500m2. GAR315_18, “Kort verslag van de vergadering van het Dagelijks Bestuur, gehouden op Maandag 19 Juli 1954 des namiddags 16.30 uur, in de kamer van de heer Hasper ten Stadhuize,” 4. 47 GAR315_18, “Kort verslag van de vergadering van het Dagelijks Bestuur, gehouden op maandag 19 Juli 1954 des namiddags 16.30 uur, in de kamer van de heer Hasper ten Stadhuize,” 2. 48 GAR315_18, “Kort verslag van de vergadering van het Dagelijks Bestuur, gehouden op Maandag 3 Mei 1954 te 19.30 uur, in de kamer van Burgemeester en Wethouders ten Stadhuize,” 3; GAR315_18, “Kort verslag van de vergadering van het Dagelijks Bestuur, gehouden op maandag 19 Juli 1954 des namiddags 16.30 uur, in de kamer van de heer Hasper ten Stadhuize,” 2. 49 “Stahlbauten an der Ausstellung E55, Rotterdam,” Bauen + Wohnen, Band 10, Heft 9, (1956), pgs. 296-300, here pg. 297; GAR315_18, “Kort verslag van de vergadering van het Dagelijks Bestuur, gehouden op Maandag 6 December 1954 des namiddags 4.30 uur, in de kamer van de heer Hasper ten Stadhuize,” 2. 50 GAR 315_57, “Bouwen en Wonen op de E55,” 5

Chapter Three 154

Instead, the pavilion applied the familiar narratives about productivity, like those presented at

Ahoy’, to the household and highlighted the role of the woman therein. The household was thus turned into a factory for the efficient production of the family and, by extension, the nation. As an official E55-press release put it, “the main user [of the home] is the housewife. If she wants to run her household effectively, she must have a home that meets the essential needs of the family… It must be an effective work place for the housewife.”51 Johanna Meihuizen-ter Braake, director of the Dutch Household Board (Nederlandsche Huishoudraad, NHH), went so far as to directly compare the Dutch household to a factory, where she essentially called for the Taylorization of the home in order to increase its efficiency. “In a factory it would be unthinkable that the space and arrangement of machines would not be related and optimized according to the product that is being manufactured,” she said in 1954:

With a proper set-up tasks can be completed quickly and efficiently, which does not only increase speed, but also improves the quality of the finished product. This principle has not yet been applied to the household…and there is much improvement to be made in this area. …The whole country benefits if the household is run as efficiently as possible: collectively, Dutch households form the largest and most important factory in the country. Indeed, our collective household consists of over 2 million employees, and the the prosperity of the household is intimately linked with the prosperity of the nation.52

Other press communiques reinforced this message, stressing that the exhibition featured

“demonstrations of contemporary concepts about living, the interior of the home, and the ways in which the housewife can most effectively do her work in the house.”53 New appliances and other consumer durables were presented as a means by which prosperity could be secured and even increased.

The Living section of the pavilion was divided into different rooms, each of which highlighted how specific furniture arrangements, appliances, or products contributed to increased

51 GAR 315_57, “Bouwen en Wonen op de E55,” 2 52 GAR 315_57, “Doelmatig Wonen. Samenvatting van de rede van Mevrouw J. Meihuizen-ter Braake, directrice van do Nederlandsche Huishoudraad te Den Haag, gehouden op de persconferentie over ‘Bouwen en Wonen’ op 27 October [sic] 1954 te Den Haag,” 2. 53 GAR 315_57, “Bouwen en Wonen op de E55,” 5.

Chapter Three 155 efficiency. The rooms were thus areas for the display of ideas on productivity, rather than the products themselves. The first “rooms” focused on the kitchen. Model kitchens, resplendent with the newest refrigerators, freezers, mixers, blenders, and grinders, revealed to visitors how their own kitchen might look in the near future. Staff demonstrated the latest innovations in storage, preparation, cooking, and garbage disposal and showed how new pantry-designs, hatches, and stoves could make all these tasks easier and more efficient. “It’s all about making life for the housewife as easy as possible,” a press release stated triumphantly.54 The second area dealt with sleeping, personal hygiene, and baby-care. It showed model bedrooms and bathrooms and, like the kitchen displays, had staff on hand to show how these rooms could be rearranged for efficiency and enjoyment. The organizers appear to have been very proud of one invention in particular, which comes up time and time again in the promotional material: a closet with a dust-free, extendable rod from which people could hang their clothes in preparation for the next day. The area also included bathrooms, and highlighted how the sink could be used as a baby bath, “without the risk of bumping the head.”55 The rooms also featured a cradle with a chest of drawers that could serve as a toy chest or wardrobe as the child grew older. This was an example of so-called

“transformational” furniture, which could serve multiple uses depending on desired functionality, and which also featured prominently at the 1955 You and Your World exhibition in Hamburg.

The third area paid plenty of attention to laundry and the washing machine. This pavilion was moored in traditional family roles, but showed flashes of remarkable progressiveness.

Promotional material for the exhibit pointed out that the housewife doing laundry was a national custom and that in other countries, like Australia, it was often the men who took care of laundry.

It then added that, “perhaps this was the reason that in [Australia] washing machines are

54 GAR 315_58, “Wonen op de E55,” 12 Juli, 1955, 1. 55 Ibid., 2.

Chapter Three 156 exceedingly common.”56 The exhibit acknowledged that washing machines were not within everybody’s reach, and stopped short of simply touting the labour-saving qualities of these new white goods. Instead, demonstrators showed how with a few targeted investments, like a much more affordable electric wringer, the chore of laundry could be made much easier. Like the rest of

E55, these pavilions thus sought to demonstrate how the careful application of scientific and industrial technologies could make tremendous improvements to the home and, therefore, the national economy.57

Building and Living extended the focus on the domestic to include housing construction and the organization of postwar neighbourhoods. Ten years after the war Rotterdam, and the

Netherlands at large, still faced a significant housing shortage. When the country was liberated in

1945 it was estimated that more than 450,000 homes had to be rebuilt.58 By 1955, that number had only decreased to 325,000 homes, despite the fact that more than 50,000 new houses were constructed annually.59 This was due to explosive population growth in the country after the

Second World War. The Netherlands was the only country whose population actually increased during the war, and between 1949 and 1970 the Dutch population grew by more than 30 per cent, from 9.5 million to 13 million.60 The exhibits underscored the latest construction techniques to meet the rising demand, and showed how spatial innovations meant that the tiny country had enough room for its rising population. The highlight of this section was the elaborate “City of the

Future” model.61 It displayed a new Rotterdam neighbourhood for 30,000 inhabitants in the Prince

56 Ibid. 57 Ibid., 1. 58 GAR 315_57, “Persconferentie 27 October 1954, te ‘s-Gravenhage: Bouwen en Wonen op de E55 te Rotterdam.” 59 GAR 315_57, “De betekenis van het bouwbedrijf. Samenvatting van de rede van de Heer J. Dura Dzn., directeur Dura’s Aannemings-Mij. N.V. te Rotterdam, gehouden op de persconferentie over ‘Bouwen en Wonen’ op 27 October 1954 te Den Haag,” 1. 60 Schuyt and Taverne, Dutch Culture in a European Perspective, 39. 61 “Het ‘ideale’ huis en stad der toekomst,” Limburgsch Dagblad, October, 29, 1954.

Chapter Three 157

Alexander Polder, predicting how the Dutch would soon live.62 Modernity and progress in

Rotterdam were still intimately associated with urban form – just as the members of Club

Rotterdam had thought in the 1940s when they wanted to rebuild the port along the most modern lines as being the most rational and efficient way forward (see Chapter One). Originally, the city of Rotterdam and the province of South Holland had also wanted to incorporate models of the

Botlek Plan (a large extension of the harbour which started construction in 1955) and Van Traa’s

Basic Plan, but these were rejected, because they highlighted industrial progress and did not accentuate the domestic developments for Rotterdam’s citizens, which were the focus of E55.63

E55’s emphasis on productivity continued in the artistic aspects of the fair. As they had done with Ahoy’, Van den Broek and Bakema left the design of individual pavilions to different architects and artists, including Mels Crouwel, Herbert Elfers, and Wim Rietveld, as well as the painter Karel Appel.64 Appel, whose experimental style made him perhaps the most representative artist of the postwar Netherlands, became involved at the personal request of Van den Broek and

Bakema.65 He contributed a 100 meter long abstract painting along the outside wall of the first pavilion.66 Full of bright colours and shapes, the painting was to represent “human energy, labour, and the joy of life.”67 Similarly, the Dutch painter and sculptor Constant Nieuwenhuys designed a fifteen-meter-tall steel contraption which he called “The Symbol of Dutch Will and Work.”68 On the square in front of the main entrance on the Mathenesserlaan, he also created a sculpture

62 “Stahlbauten an der Ausstellung E55, Rotterdam,” Bauen + Wohnen, Band 10, Heft 9, (1956), pgs. 296-300, here pg. 297. 63 GAR 315_18, “Kort verslag van de vergadering van het Dagelijks Bestuur, gehouden op Maandag 4 October 1954 des namiddags 4.30 uur, in de kamer van de heer Hasper ten Stadhuize,” 2. 64 “Rotterdam weet van aanpakken: E55,” Bouwen en Wonen 7 (1955), 254. Wim Rietveld (1924-1985) should not be confused with his father, Gerard Rietveld, the famous De Stijl architect and designer. 65 GAR 315_57, “Hedendaagse kunst op de E55,” April 13, 1955. 66 Aad van der Sluijs, “E’55: manifestatie met veel energie,” De Oude Rotterdammer: Krant voor de 50-plusser, April 4, 2006. 67 GAR 315_57, “Hedendaagse kunst op de E55,” April 13, 1955. 68 GAR 315_22, “De Zwevende Mast (Aeolus-mast), enig in de wereld,” December 28, 1954.

Chapter Three 158 consisting of three triangles pointing in different directions, each with a sphere in the middle.69

Two of the spheres appeared as solid masses, while in the third (the one facing the entrance), was a ring that continually moved, symbolizing the continuous “energy” of the exhibition and of Dutch recovery.70

Perhaps most famous, however, was Amsterdam artist Arie Jansma’s Aeolusmast, which represented the “power of nature and the use that humans can make of this power.”71 The forty- metre tall steel contraption on the Westzeedijk rested in an enormous ball-bearing, allowing it to move freely in the wind. The continuious motion symbolically demonstrated how the power of nature could be harnessed for the peaceful utility of mankind.72 After the dark days of World War

II, in which technology had delivered unprecedented death and destruction, science and technology could no longer be presented as unequivocally “good;” their value depended on the use made of them. The Aeolusmast represented this lesson, serving as a reminder that nature’s energy should be harnessed for growth and prosperity, not death and destruction.73 This theme was carried throughout E55, and also found expression at the 1960 Floriade exhibition, for which the

Aeolusmast was left standing.

Like Ahoy’, E55 featured numerous popular entertainment options. These were more than just a mindless diversion or a way for the organization to make a quick buck. Instead, popular entertainments continued to be seen as necessary to attract the large crowds, which, in turn, could be subjected to the educational qualities found in other areas of the exhibition. This was a tried

69 GAR 315_19: “Kort verslag van de op 19 Maart 1955 te 9.00 uur in de vergader kamer van de Dienst van Gemeentewerken door de Bouwcommissie E-55 gehouden bijeenkomst,”6. 70 GAR 315_64: Nieuwsbulletin 5, 6 Mei 1955, “Het teken E55”. Hensen, 24. 71 Aad van der Sluijs, “E’55: manifestatie met veel energie,” De Oude Rotterdammer: Krant voor de 50-plusser, Tuesday April 4, 2006. 72 GAR 315_57, “De Zwevende Mast (Aeolus-mast), enig in the wereld,” 28 December, 1954, 1. 73 Tom Verschaffel, “The Wind Blows Hard But the Sky Remains Blue: The Message of Expo’58,” in Expo 58: Between Utopia and Reality, ed. Gonzague Pluvinage (Brussels: Brussels City Archive, 2008), pgs. 73-93, here pg. 84.

Chapter Three 159 and true technique. Back in 1867, the world’s fair in Paris had been the first to include popular entertainment and amusement.74 Subsequent exhibitions in Paris in 1889 and Chicago in 1893 expanded on this to the point where the organizers for the World’s Columbian Exposition in

Chicago in 1893 were concerned that the Midway – the area of bawdy entertainment and curiosities

– detracted from the White City – the main area of the fair designed to educate and enlighten. As

Keith Walden has put it, “revelry seemed to be swamping the more serious pursuits.”75 Over time, however, the division between entertainment and education was slowly erased, as entertainments were increasingly used to demonstrate the delights of modern civilization and amusement was employed, in the words of Tony Bennett, as “a testimony to the virtues of progress.”76 This was evident at E55, where the entertainment was presented as being simply another indication of the new postwar world of wonder. For example, one of the big attractions at E55 – the “World

Gondola”– was part of the Cosmorama space travel exhibit that allowed visitors to “experience” space travel in a 180 feet tall crane with little open pods suspended from the top. Astronauts in space suits hung from the structure to give the impression of zero-gravity.77 Not only was the exhibit a fun attraction, it implicitly projected the future possibilities of space travel, highlighting

“the possibilities our children will soon have, with the artificial moon which will be sent [sic] up soon.”78 E55 also offered other technological amusements. There was a gondola lift that reached a height of twelve meters and spanned 700 meters across the Westzeedijk to connect the Dijkzigt and Het Park areas.79 It had 56 seats and the capacity to carry 600 persons into the Unifesti

74 Keith Walden, Becoming Modern in Toronto: The Industrial Exhibition and the Shaping of Late-Victorian Culture (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1997), 256. 75 Walden, Becoming Modern, 281. 76 Tony Bennett, “The Exhibitionary Complex” New Formations 4 (Spring 1998), pgs. 73-102, here pg. 86. 77 GAR 315_58, “Wereldactualiteit op de E55: Een rondsnellend prototype van de kunstmaan 1957 in het Cosmorama van de E55,” August 4, 1955. 78 GAR 315_58, “E55: Succes [sic] of a supra-national Show” August 8, 1955, 3. 79 GAR 315_57, “Korte wandeling op de E55,” March 30, 1955, 5.

Chapter Three 160 concessions area that marked the terminus at its southern end.80 The attraction not only served as transportation, it offered insight into the future of transportation possibilities, even if those were never explicitly stated.

E55 was a great success, attracting over 3 million visitors during its three-month run.81 To put that in perspective, the population of the Netherlands in 1955 was only 10.5 million, meaning that, not accounting for repeat-visits, just shy of 30 per cent of the national population visited the exhibition. According to a newspaper article in Het Vrije Volk, E55 was so popular that it had become a verb amongst the locals. “Come, let’s go ‘E-ing,” (“Kom, we gaan nog even E-ën”) was used as slang to mean “come, let’s visit the E55.”82 A final report drafted in September 1955 included some reactions from visitors, which ranged from a businessman from Dordrecht who thought the “fertilizer display was fascinating,” to a mailman from Twello who noted that his wife had thoroughly enjoyed the Building and Living pavilion.83 In all, 1,900 members of the press had come from around the world to report on the exhibition, hailing from Iceland and Greenland, to

Israel, Mexico, the United States, and Canada. Press delegations from Morocco and Iran were also represented.84 News of the exhibition, accordingly, had reached around the world, and the report predicted that the results and benefits of E55 would be long felt by businesses, industry, and overall exports. As proof, the report cited a Danish agricultural exporter, who wrote: “I have certainly not forgotten! In fact, I think you could never drive too many miles to see an exhibition like this. It is really unforgettable.”85

80 Some sources say 54 chairs instead of 56. GAR 315_57, “Korte wandeling op de E55,” March 30, 1955, 5. 81 GAR 315_58, “E55 Balans,” 15 September 1955, 1. 82 “Even E-ën,” Het Vrije Volk, May 30, 1955. 83 GAR 315_58, “E55 Balans,” 15 September 1955, 6. 84 Ibid. 85 Ibid., 1.

Chapter Three 161

Hamburg’s You and Your World (1955)

While the city of Hamburg hosted no event akin to E55, the arrival of a mass prosperity in

West Germany was likewise embraced as a marker of a new era. If anything, this was a more urgent and extreme development in West Germany than it was in the Netherlands. As Chapter Two demonstrated, one of the main aims of IGA’53 had been the restoration of Hamburg’s image abroad by focusing on the city’s economic credentials and by marking a departure with the National

Socialist years. Over the course of the 1950s, accordingly, West German identity at home was also increasingly shaped around the achievement of economic prosperity and private mass consumption. As Erica Carter has convincingly argued, “West German-ness” became an economic identity defined “through contributions to the economic welfare of the nation.”86 Partly as a reflection of this, Hamburg hosted a total of seven trade shows in 1955, the same year as E55, with a combined total of over half a million visitors.87 The most important of these was You and Your

World.88 The show highlighted the gains of West Germany’s economic miracle and underscored that economic prosperity and private consumption were the foundation for reintegration and recovery at home. As will be argued here, mass prosperity changed West German society and the ways in which Hamburg citizens interacted with their environment. Near the end of this section, we will take a look at one of the first indications of this: the Hamburg Model City Project. For this event Hamburg’s construction department (Baubehörde) set up models of reconstruction projects all around the city between 1956 and 1962, allowing people to quite literally consume a future projection of the urban environment around them.

86 Erica Carter, How German Is She? Postwar Reconstruction and the Consuming Woman (Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 1997), 45-46. 87 “Erfolgreiche Messestadt: eine halbe Million besuchten 1955 unsere Ausstellungen,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 3, 1956. 88 You and Your World was organized in Hamburg annually between 1955 2014. The show was cancelled after in 2014 due to declining visitor numbers. An adjusted follow-up event is planned for 2017. Melanie Wassink, “Nachfolgemesse von ‘Du und Deine Welt’ started 2017,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 22, 2016.

Chapter Three 162

It was a vital development that in the 1950s, mass prosperity in Hamburg, and West

Germany at large, became the fulcrum of postwar national identity. After the creation of the

Federal Republic in 1949, the country’s recovery had been based on several key principles: economic growth, cultural and spiritual reform, reintegration into “the West,” political conservatism, and staunch anti-Communism. All of these ideas were connected, and all were ultimately predicated on economic prosperity. For example, West Germany’s Chancellor, Konrad

Adenauer (r. 1949-1963), believed that the country’s economic growth would lead to spiritual reform, by which he essentially meant denazification.89 Adenauer keenly realized that just because

Hitler’s regime had fallen, this did not mean there were no more Nazis left in Germany, and he was very aware of how popular Nazism had been with ordinary Germans. Even in November 1949,

59 per cent of respondents to a poll thought that Nazism had been “a good idea badly carried out,” while only 4 per cent believed that “Germans bore a certain guilt for Germany’s actions during the

Third Reich.”90 With these numbers it is unsurprising that Adenauer concluded that there were simply too many people sympathetic to the Nazis. He resolved that too much emphasis on bringing low-level members of Hitler’s regime to justice would only create public resentment, bringing postwar societal stability into doubt. A stable, prosperous postwar West German democracy, according to Adenauer, as well as to his economics minister Ludwig Erhard, required, in the words of Jeffrey Herf, “less memory and justice for the crimes of the Nazi era and more ‘integration’ of those who had gone astray.”91 Economic success, thence, became an important basis for this national (re)integration.92 Similarly, David Crew has argued that “West German prosperity

89 Erica Carter, How German Is She? 27. 90 Jeffrey Herf, Divided Memory: The Nazi Past in the Two Germanys (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1997), 274. 91 Ibid., 267. For more on German economic policy, see Jeremy Leaman, The Political Economy of West Germany, 1945-1985: An Introduction (London: Macmillan, 1988). 92 Elizabeth D. Heineman, “The Hour of the Woman” Memories of Germany’s ‘Crisis Years’ and West German National Identity,” in The Miracle Years: A Cultural History of West Germany, 1949-1968, ed. Hannah Schissler (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001), pgs. 21-56, here pg. 35.

Chapter Three 163 certainly encouraged citizens of the Federal Republic, including many former Nazis, to tolerate, to accept, and eventually to embrace the new West German state.”93 Economics Minister Erhard, likewise believed that economic reform and economic prosperity were the best way to reintegrate the West German nation both within and without. In his opening speech at the German Industrial

Exhibition in Berlin in 1950 he stated: “The exhibition will provide… proof that the vitality of the

German people, its spiritual vitality and its will to create and develop, are unimpaired, and that a free nation of consumers can… demand that [its] social product… should be employed for its own ends, for the ends of human and social welfare.”94 The Düsseldorf Principles, which were signed later that year, officially enshrined “economic reform as the pillar of social order” and as the foundation of the spiritual, national, and cultural rehabilitation of West Germany.95

The economy – more specifically the West German social market economy – gave West

German citizens a goal and sense of purpose and identity after the war, becoming an identifier in national questions. 96 It made the country “unique;” the emphasis on the virtues of the free market also allowed West Germans to separate themselves from both the planned economy they had experienced under Hitler’s National Socialist regime and from the Communist regime emerging in East Germany. In this way, the social market economy, as Carter put it, “presented itself as a vehicle for fantasies of a restored and unified German nation.”97 This was important, as a resurgent

German nationalism was a deeply contentious issue. As shown in Chapter Two, the organizational committee for IGA’53, for example, decided not to play the national anthem at the exhibition’s

93 David F. Crew, “Consuming Germany in the Cold War: Consumption and National Identity in East and West Germany, 1949-1989, An Introduction,” in Consuming Germany in the Cold War, ed. David F. Crew (New York: Berg, 2003), pgs. 1-20, here pg. 7. 94 Ludwig Erhard, The Economics of Success, translated by J.A. Arengo-Jones and D.J.S. Thomson (London: Thames and Hudson, 1963), 80. Cited in Carter, How German is She?, 26.) 95 Erica Carter, How German Is She?, 26-27. 96 Ibid., 22-23. 97 Ibid., 25.

Chapter Three 164 opening ceremonies because this was “not considered appropriate.”98 Instead, the economic narrative provided an alternative way for Germans to feel national pride. Citing The Civic Culture, a 1959 study by Gabriel Almond and Sydney Verba, Erica Carter highlighted that in contrast to their feelings about West Germany’s political institutions, “36 per cent of the respondents reported pride in the ‘characteristics of the German people,’ and 33 per cent in the ‘economic system,’” with the conclusion that West Germans had focused “their national pride on the German economy, on the personal virtues of Germans, and on their scientific and artistic accomplishments.”99 The social market economy thus offered a legitimizing narrative internationally, but it also offered

West German citizens a new national identity at home. Consumption, in the words of Elizabeth

Outka, offered “heady possibilities of self-fashioning, artificial pleasures, and seemingly endless possibilities of reinvention,” which were very appealing to West Germans.100 Accordingly, over the course of the 1950s West Germans buried their past in a present filled with material goods, as they “relentlessly and a trifle uneasily focused on material well-being, stability, and respectability.”101

You and Your World heaped up these goods. As an annual trade show originating in 1955, it sold an image of a new and fundamentally different postwar West Germany. It highlighted the availability of a plethora of consumer goods as one of the main indicators of this difference and newness. As such, it aided in the construction of “West German-ness” after the war by introducing people to the material gains on offer. Thematically You and Your World had a lot in common with

E55’s emphasis on productivity in the domestic sphere. It variously featured areas that focused on

98 StaHH 614 3/9_1, “Niederschrift über die Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 7. April 1953,” pg. 5 (page numbering seems off), bullet # 8. 99 Gabriel A. Almond & Sydney Verba, The Civic Culture: Political Attitudes and Democracy in Five Nations (London: Sage, 1989), 66. Cited Erica Carter, How German is She?, 19-20. 100 Elizabeth Outka, Consuming Traditions: Modernity, Modernism, and the Commodified Authentic (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 100. 101 Judt, Postwar, 417.

Chapter Three 165 household items, furniture, home and garden, health and beauty products, fashion, kitchens, as well as building and renovations. It also offered consumer advice and information, quite literally teaching people about the new mass consumer economy and its requirements and expectations. As such, You and Your World was more than just a trade show; it was a performance of a new postwar way of life, and a tool through which the new mass consumer society was connected to national identity and presented to a new audience.

Hamburg Senator Emilie Kiep-Altenloh officially opened the exhibition on August 26,

1955.102 Over the next eleven days, the show was open daily from 10am to 7pm, with admission prices set at two marks. Discounts were available with written invitations, sent out to Hamburg households in the weeks leading up to the exhibition.103 Spread out over six brightly lit exhibition halls, each packed to the rafters with the latest trappings of the new consumer society, You and

Your World functioned as an announcement of a new era; clean, efficient, modern, and available to all (at least in theory).104 “Even with little money, life can be beautiful,” the Hamburger

Abendblatt reported, before outlining the spoils the event could offer consumers.105 Unlike IGA’53, the focus of You and Your World was regional, getting the vast majority of its visitors from the

Hamburg and Schleswig-Holstein areas. It was organized by the Hamburg Women’s Organization

Association (Arbeitsgemeinschaft Hamburger Frauenorganisationen), in cooperation with

Planten un Blomen, under the motto “More Comfortable Living and Dwelling.”106 Functionally a trade show, You and Your World was intended for the display of consumer goods and the provision of sales. The 1950s were still a period of relative austerity: at the time of You and Your World just

11 per cent of West German households had a refrigerator, while only 10 per cent owned a washing

102 “Unsere lieben Frauen sollen es leichter haben,” Hamburger Abendblatt, August 26, 1955. 103 Ibid. 104 Ibid. 105 “Aschenputtel unmodern,” Hamburger Abendblatt, August 11, 1955. 106 “Haus mit echtem Leben: Grosse Überraschung auf der Ausstellung ‘Du und Deine Welt’,” Hamburger Abendblatt, July 23, 1955.

Chapter Three 166 machine.107 Exhibitions that focused on consumer durables and domestic appliances, like You and

World World or the Show for Women (Schau für die Frau, which was a part of the Food Exhibition

(Lebensmittelfachausstellung, or LEFA)), functioned in anticipation of a world of material abundance that would soon be available to all.108

The exhibition was geared towards women and their families. Because the organizational committee did not challenge the idea of a woman’s role in the domestic sphere, this made sense in a few respects. Firstly, the home – the place for which the consumer durables on display were intended – were traditionally the domain of women, and women were in charge of the vast majority of household spending.109 This was especially so in the postwar Federal Republic, which witnessed a return to traditional gender roles.110 The myth that the private sphere had remained untainted by

Nazism was alive and well in the 1950s, and the exhibition continued this emphasis on the domestic as the place for the nascent Federal Republic to reclaim a kind of innocence. In reality,

Nazism had penetrated every aspect of German society, including the private sphere, and especially the family.111 Yet in a world where West Germany looked to pull away from the rhetoric of military glory, a focus on the domestic made sense. “Life can be beautiful, even within your

107 Werner Abelhauser, Die langen Fünfziger Jahre: Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft der Bundesrepublik Deutschland 1949-1966 (Düsseldorf: Schwann, 1987), 31. Cited in: Carter, How German Is She?, 54. 108 “Die Geschichte der Messe – vom Mittelalter bis ins 21. Jahrhundert,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 24, 2015. 109 Carter, How German Is She? 64-66. 110 See, for example: Erica Carter, How German Is She? Postwar Reconstruction and the Consuming Woman (Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 1997; Elizabeth D. Heineman, Before Porn was Legal: The Erotica Empire of Beate Uhse (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2011); Elizabeth D. Heineman, What Difference Does a Husband Make? Women and Marital Status in Nazi and Postwar Germany (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999); Dagmar Herzog, Sex After Fascism: Memory and Morality in Twentieth-Century Germany (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2005); Robert G. Moeller, Protecting Motherhood: Women and the Family in the Politics of Postwar West Germany (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996); Annette F. Timm, The Politics of Fertility in Twentieth-Century Berlin (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010). 111 For more on Nazism in the private sphere, see for example: Elizabeth D. Heineman, “Sexuality and Nazism: The Doubly Unspeakable?” Journal of the History of Sexuality 11, no. 1 (2002); Marion A. Kaplan, Atina Grossmann, and Renate Bridenthal, When Biology Became Destiny: Women in Weimar and Nazi Germany (New York: Monthly Review Press, 1984); Claudia Koonz, Mothers in the Fatherland: women, family life, and Nazi ideology, 1919-1945 (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1985); Alison Owings, Frauen: German women recall the Third Reich (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 2011); Corey Ross, Pamela E. Swett, and Fabrice d’Almeida, eds., Pleasure and Power in Nazi Germany (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011); Jill Stephenson, Women in Nazi Society (London: Routledge, [originally 1975], 2014),

Chapter Three 167 four walls,” the Hamburger Abendblatt reported, encouraging the flight into domesticity.112 In the postwar years women also outnumbered men by a significant margin; in 1945 there were 7.3 million more women than there were men in West Germany.113 Many of these women, as Tony

Judt points out, had “terrible private memories of the last months of the war and the immediate post-war era” and as such the renewal of the home with the latest appliances, and the pursuit of a productive household, was an attempt to exorcise the memories of the past and embark on a new era.114

The display of new appliances and household consumer durables was thus intimately tied to a narrative of national regeneration. At You and Your World, exhibition Hall B, organized under the theme of “Everyday Life,” was dedicated to this idea almost exclusively. It showed a range of new gadgets, including a thermostat with automatic temperature control, a steam-cooker, a mini- vacuum cleaner that only weighed two pounds, as well as a “thinking” sewing machine and a “self- acting” washing machine, which merely meant that they were programmable.115 The emphasis here was twofold. On the one hand, the exhibits highlighted the “newness” of the gadgets, as the technological innovation and progress were seen as markers of an era that was, first of all, different from the Nazi years. On the other hand, the tools for which the machines were designed – cleaning, maintaining, and repairing – carried symbolic qualities. The homemaker, with the aid of new technologies, could run her household more cleanly and efficiently. If the homemaker could effectively clean the house with the use of the new technologies, then the Bonn Republic at large could likewise be cleansed with the introduction of modern technology. With a clean and efficiently run household, the German woman could reclaim an inherent “Germanness” that was

112 “Unsere lieben Frauen sollen es leichter haben,” Hamburger Abendblatt, August 26, 1955. 113 Heide Fehrenbach, Cinema in Democratizing Germany: Reconstructing National Identity After Hitler (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1995), 95. 114 Judt, Postwar, 274-275. 115 “Unsere lieben Frauen sollen es leichter haben,” Hamburger Abendblatt, August 26, 1955.

Chapter Three 168 associated with being organized and clean. It was a narrative similar to the one propagated at E55, where the cleanliness of the home became a marker for the purification of the nation after the war.

Kirstin Ross pointed to a similar dynamic in postwar France, where an embrace of new (cleaning) household technologies was encouraged by a national “desire to be clean” and wash off “all the stains left behind by four years of occupation.”116 Although the West German case functioned similarly, there was a significant degree of selective amnesia at work here, as the language of cleanliness and hygiene was not devoid of wartime associations. Indeed, the Nazis had extensively used metaphors of “cleanliness” and “purification” in their racial policies and had also identified being “clean” and “organized” as markers of inherent “Germanness.”117

You and Your World was a participatory event. It engaged people with live-demonstrations, interaction and workshops, and allowed visitors to walk-through, touch, and engage with many of the products on display. It was similar to E55’s focus on dynamic displays, in the sense that it mobilized people and made them feel as though they were actively participating. The director of

Planten un Blomen, Albert Lubisch, considered the interactive aspect crucial, as the products on display were new to the majority of visitors and demonstrations and trials were vital to create potential new customers.118 To this end, one of the main features of You and Your World was a long line of thirteen mock living rooms and kitchens with bleachers running along the entire length for people to sit down and watch the live-demonstrations.119 The kitchens were especially popular.

Organized under the slogan “Pushing the button is enough,” the kitchens emphasized household

116 Ross, Fast Cars, Clean Bodies, 74 117 Shelley Baranowski, Nazi Empire: German Colonialism and Imperialism from Bismarck to Hitler (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011), 249-250. 118 “Gutes Zeugnis für Hamburg als Messestadt: 180,000 besuchten ‘Du und deine Welt’,” Hamburger Abendblatt, September 5, 1955. 119 “Haus mit echtem Leben: Grosse Überraschung auf der Ausstellung ‘Du und Deine Welt’,” Hamburger Abendblatt, July 23, 1955.

Chapter Three 169 gadgetry and technology as hallmarks of modernity.120 A U-Shaped kitchen – a radically modern and very popular design in the 1950s – was equipped with innovations like a retractable bread slicer, a retractable towel rack, a magnetic knife holder and a special cabinet that hid kitchen tools when they were not in use.121 Like the kitchen exhibit at E55’s Building and Living, staff were on hand to demonstrate the how the latest designs and technologies could tremendously improve postwar domestic life. Another model kitchen was outfitted with turntables that gave easy access to spices and other kitchen staples, while for the home-baker there was a bread-machine that, at the push of a button, shot up from a drawer seemingly out of nowhere.122 The technologies and innovations were presented as standing in firm contrast with pre-war kitchens, which lacked these gadgets.

Lubisch’s idea of demonstrations and dynamic displays was a hit, witnessing over 32,000 visitors in eleven days.123 The emphasis on action and dynamism, symbolic of the new era, was also evident in other displays. Exhibition Hall C was dedicated to furniture. In mock-up living rooms visitors were treated to how private life might be enjoyed in the postwar era. Like the kitchen gadgetry, the living room furniture emphasized “newness” and innovation, mostly through so- called “transformative furniture” which combined the functionality of multiple pieces of furniture into one. In one display the living room doubled as an office, where a cabinet hid a desk which disappeared at the push of a button, while in another display the living room doubled as a bedroom, as “sumptuous armchairs” were turned into “brave marriage beds.” There was furthermore a TV- cabinet – itself a novelty in 1955 – that turned around into a typewriter station when a handle was

120 Dr. Hildegard Damrow, “Ein Druck aufs Knöpfchen und alles ist ganz anders: die Eva von heute has es Leichter / Verwandelbare view Wände / Kücke mit Pfif,” Hamburger Abendblatt, August 27, 1955. 121 “Haus mit echtem Leben: Grosse Überraschung auf der Ausstellung ‘Du und Deine Welt’,” Hamburger Abendblatt, 23.07.55 122 Dr. Hildegard Damrow, “Ein Druck aufs Knöpfchen und alles ist ganz anders: die Eva von heute has es Leichter / Verwandelbare view Wände / Kücke mit Pfif,” Hamburger Abendblatt, August 27, 1955. 123 “Gutes Zeugnis für Hamburg als Messestadt: 180,000 besuchten “Du und deine Welt,” Hamburger Abendblatt, September 5, 1955.

Chapter Three 170 pulled. Other examples were a bookshelf that transformed first into a bar, and with another push of a button turned itself into a sewing station, resplendent with all the necessary accessories. “This furniture can be transformed like the clothes and hairstyles of a woman!” the local newspaper

Hamburger Abendblatt reported on the furniture, underscoring both the gendered nature of the exhibition as well as the opportunities for reinvention that unbridled mass consumption offered.124

The emphasis on transformational furniture and gadgetry both highlighted the technological advances of the postwar age as well as the possibilities for the reinvention of the household and, by extension, the self, offered by the new mass consumer society. What one bought became associated with who one was, or wanted to be. Logically, this was especially evident in the sections of the exhibition that focused on fashion and cosmetics. Here, the latest fashions and beauty products could turn a German woman into a postwar West German woman. Who one was could be defined by what one wore, and all of the well-known fashion houses in West Germany participated at You and Your World. They sent their latest collections to demonstrate how one should dress in an extraordinary variety of scenarios.125 There were examples of acceptable outfits

“on the campsite,” at a ball game, at a derby, and many more. All of these were not only showcased through pictures but – again with the emphasis on action and dynamism – through fashion shows which were held daily from 14:30-16:00 and from 17:30-19:00 in the Festhalle.126

Exhibition Hall D, organized under the theme “the Magic of the Woman,” was dedicated to beauty products and cosmetics. Here numerous cosmetic and pharmaceutical companies showed off their latest perfumes, detergents, and slimming suits for the “modern woman.”127 There were also make-up tutorials and workshops, as well as cosmetic demonstrations – again placing the

124 Dr. Hildegard Damrow, “Ein Druck aufs Knöpfchen und alles ist ganz anders: die Eva von heute has es Leichter / Verwandelbare view Wände / Kücke mit Pfif,” Hamburger Abendblatt, August 27, 1955. 125 “Aschenputtel unmodern,” Hamburger Abendblatt, August 11, 1955. 126 “Unsere lieben frauen sollen es leichter haben, Hamburger Abendblatt, August 26, 1955 127 Ibid.

Chapter Three 171 emphasis on involvement, energy, and dynamism.128 While the exhibitions generated immediate sales, the displays allowed visitors to learn a new ethic of postwar consumption and the meaning of this consumption within the wider context of the postwar world. It answered questions of how to be a “good wife and mother” and how to navigate the requirements of a woman’s. If done successfully, this meant that for producers of consumer goods, the woman would understand their product as being essential to her identity as a woman, wife, and mother in the postwar society and thus be guaranteed a customer for years to come.

You and Your World ran from August 26 until September 4, 1955, and was a great success.

Over 180,000 people visited the exhibition in its 11-day run, handsomely beating expectations. On the third day they had run out of catalogues for the exhibition and additional entry tickets had to be printed.129 It was further estimated that the event added over seven million marks to Hamburg’s overall economy.130 The organizers were completely overwhelmed by its success. “This beat even our boldest expectations,” Albert Lubisch told the Hamburger Abendblatt.131 The fair was the most popular exhibition organized in Hamburg that year, beating out seven other contenders, including the bakery trade show Our Bread (not to be confused with Our Daily Bread of 1947), which attracted 145,000 visitors.132 This success was a testament to the appeal of the mass consumer society, which offered possibilities for reinvention, reincarnation, and a better life that was unencumbered by the complications of the past. The embrace of mass consumption and private

128 Dr. Hildegard Damrow, “Ein Druck aufs Knöpfchen und alles ist ganz anders: die Eva von heute has es Leichter / Verwandelbare view Wände / Kücke mit Pfif,” Hamburger Abendblatt, August 27, 1955. 129 “Gutes Zeugnis für Hamburg als Messestadt: 180,000 besuchten ‘Du und deine Welt,’” Hamburger Abendblatt, September 5, 1955. 130 “Erfolgreiche Messestadt: eine halbe Million besuchten 1955 unsere Ausstellungen,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 3, 1956. 131 “Gutes Zeugnis für Hamburg als Messestadt: 180,000 besuchten ‘Du und deine Welt,’” Hamburger Abendblatt, September 5, 1955 132 “Erfolgreiche Messestadt: eine halbe Million besuchten 1955 unsere Ausstellungen,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 3, 1956.

Chapter Three 172 prosperity became the Bonn Republic’s greatest brand, and it changed the way in which West

Germans thought about themselves, their past, and their future.

Hamburg: Model City Project (1956-1962)

The implications of the arrival of mass prosperity were far-ranging. One of the instances in which we can see this changing dynamic is in looking at how how people engaged with their urban environment. Increasingly, people began to view their surroundings as customers: the citizens of 1950 –survivors of the war – was slowly being replaced with a new type of citizen, a modern, prosperous West German consumer. In 1956, the Hamburg Construction Department

(Baubehörde), at the order of the Senate, commissioned the construction of a number small models replicating current reconstruction projects. Displayed under the motto “Hamburg Builds for its

Citizens” (Hamburg baut für seine Bürger), the models chronicled the development and progress of specific reconstruction projects and displayed them in prominent places. Because the project seems to have had no official name, other than its motto, it will, for convenience and clarity, be referred to it as the Hamburg Model City project. Commissioned by the city, these models were made by private contractors, as well as sometimes contributed by construction companies to promote projects they were working on.133

The idea for the Hamburg Model City project first emerged in 1956, and the first models rolled out the following year. The program lasted until 1962, during which time numerous models

– usually no bigger than about 1.5 metres wide, 1 metre tall, and 0.5 metres deep – of significant public buildings or infrastructure projects were put up around the city.134 Constructed of plaster or

133 StaHH 321-3 I_104, “Betr. Arbeiten zur Augestaltung der Schaukasten auf den Straßen und Plätzen der Hansestadt Hamburg,” May 29, 1959. Letter from the Gemeinnütziges Wohnungsunternehmen Neues Hamburg GmbH. For 1957/58 a private model maker, Horst Zuschke), was employed (pay: ~1200DM). For 1958/59, the Senate decided to work with each model separately: estimated cost would be around ~400DM per model/year. 134 StaHH 321-3 I_104, various documents.

Chapter Three 173 wood, they featured public projects such as new hospitals, schools, or police stations, as well as large infrastructure projects, like new traffic interchanges or subway stations. With the exception of a nine-piece model of downtown Harburg, a southern suburb of Hamburg, commissioned in

1960, the focus of the Model City project was largely on individual building projects, rather than the entirety of the city, as was the case with the speculative “City of the Future” model at E55.135

This more modest approach might be a reflection of the damaging memories of the war, as Hitler’s large and presumptuous models often completely and radically reworked entire inner cities.

The display of these models was in some ways an extension of the consumer culture that took hold in West Germany after the mid 1950s. It provided viewers the opportunity to imagine themselves within the new urban context provided by the model, offering possibilities for reinvention. By offering a view of a different time entirely, the models presented an escape hatch of sorts to the future; a future in which the viewer could be anything (s)he wanted to be. As

Elizabeth Outka has pointed out about visions of urban futures more generally, the models “let consumers… shape images of authenticity themselves, allowing them to unite different times and identities – and then to exchange these for new ones if they desired.”136

On the surface the Hamburg Model City Project was intended to be educational, with its main goal to inform Hamburg’s citizens about the current state of reconstruction. The models allowed the population to, as Helmut Puff put it, “survey individual buildings or developments before they went up,” and offered direct ways for the public to engage with, and understand, the

135 StaHH 321-3 I_104, “Aufstellung einer Schauvitrine in Harburg,” 14.08.1961. The full 1:500 scale model of the Harburg area came in nine collapsible parts and was amended and supplemented as the city around it changed, giving the public a bird-eye view of the reconstruction as it was happening. The Harburg model was commissioned after smaller models had already demonstrated their success, viability, and popularity. At a cost of 30,000 DM, it was a significant investment. StaHH 321-3 I, 104, “Betr. Unterrichtung der Öffentlichkeit; hier: Ausstellung von Modellen.” 21.08.1959 136 Outka, Consuming Traditions, 100.

Chapter Three 174 process of reconstruction.137 They also aimed to create a vision of modern life connecting ideas of the postwar self (as promoted by You and Your World) to the urban environment. The models, as such, were sites of imagined pasts and imagined futures. As Helmut Puff has argued about the

Hamburg Model City project, the models were “reflective of widespread hopes to restore the supposedly damaged social and gendered order together with the reconfiguration of the built environment.”138 Indeed, the models pointed to an imagined future of harmony and social prosperity, just as exhibitions in Rotterdam in the late 1940s had done.

The models for Hamburg Model City were displayed at various locations throughout the city. Generally speaking, the construction department favoured public spaces that were easily accessible and saw high levels of foot traffic. Public transportation hubs, for example, were popular locations. Busy interchange stations, such as Berliner Tor, Altona, Dammtor, and Central Station all saw models on display at various times throughout the late 1950s and early 1960s. By

November 1961, there were eight locations at which reconstruction models were displayed:

Ferdinandstor, Eimsbüttel, Altona (Bahnhof), Wandsbek, Jungfernstieg, Loingyplatz,139 Harburg,

Altona (Aussichtsplatform Palmaille).140 Some models were also put up in private locations that were accessible to the public. In January 1960, the director of the Hamburgische Landesbank wrote a letter to Hamburg’s Baudirektor Paul Seitz to inform him that they had exhibition space available and were willing to display several of the construction department’s models. He went quite far to convince the construction department of the viability of their site, citing the high-level of foot- traffic enjoyed at its Herman Street location as well as the beauty of the display cases. “The display

137 Helmut Puff, Miniature Monuments, 189; StaHH 321-3 I_104, “Schaukasten im Hamburger Stadtgebiet.”; StaHH 321-3 I_104, Letter from the Allgemeine Technische Abteilung to the Polizeibehörde, August 4, 1961. 138 Helmut Puff, Miniature Monuments, 189. 139 This is probably a typo and in all likelihood refers to the Loogeplatz in north-central Hamburg, near the Kellinghusenstraße subway station where both lines U1 and U3 stop. 140 StaHH 321-3 I_104, “Allgemeine Technische Abteiling. 6. November, 1961. Betr. Glasreinigung der Modellschaukästen.” We know this because we have records of the window-washing schedule of these models, which together had a glass area of 96.25 square meters.

Chapter Three 175 cases… are made of solid teak,” the letter started, “the interior rear wall is removable and is covered with blue-gray wool fabric. Photos, pieces of information, and other things can easily be attached.”141 Eventually the bank and the construction department reached an agreement, where the models should be displayed until one of the parties suspended the arrangement. The city assumed responsibility for their continued maintenance and lighting, while the bank ensured regular cleaning.142

The construction department wanted the model to reach large audiences. For example, a model on the Jungfernstieg, on the Inner-Alster near City Hall, was located right next to where people lined up for steamboat tours (Dampferanlegestelle), inviting people to look at the display while they waited.143 Models were also put up in places where people spent free time. At the

Hamburg Tourist Centre and Congress Hall, a model of the reorganized traffic circle at

Ferdinandstor was on display after February 7, 1959.144 Even while shopping people were subjected to models, as a display at local department store Karstadt educated people about subway construction.145 The emphasis on accessibility and reach corresponded with the greater spatial reach of commodity culture in general. Indeed, the Hamburg Model City project blurred the lines between consumption and physical recovery, as both now appealed to the same desire for reinvention and remaking. Just like a new sweater or a new haircut offered the possibilities for new identities and new self-narratives, so did the creation of a new urban environment – even an imagined or a proposed one – offer opportunities for the recreation of the postwar self. As part of

141 StaHH 321-3 I_104, “Betr. Schaukästen an der Außenfront unseres Bankgebäudes,” 06.01.1960 142 Ibid. 143 “Unterrichtung: Ausstellungen,” Schriften zum Bau- Wohnungs-und Siedlungswesen Heft 31: Baujahre 1957-1958, 1958-1959 (Hamburg: Freie und Hansestadt Hamburg Baubehörde 1959), 77. 144 Ibid. 145 Ibid. This was the actual language that was used – unterrichteten.

Chapter Three 176

West Germany’s embrace of American style mass consumerism, Hamburg’s physical recovery became increasingly commodified over the course of the late 1950s.146

Aside from reaching large numbers of people, the construction department made efforts to reach the most relevant populations. Models were thus often displayed in areas close to where the eventual building was supposed to be erected. For example, a model of a new hospital in Harburg was displayed in front of Harburg City Hall, because the construction department considered the fact that “the construction of the new hospital was of particular interest for Harburg population beyond question.”147 Another example was the model displayed at the Berliner Tor S-Bahn Station between 2 October 1958 and 21 January 1959, which showed the plan for a street and bridge construction for that very location. A similar model at the Altona Bahnhof was on display from

October 30, 1959 to January 29, 1959, and showed the construction of New Altona (Neu Altona).

After November 7, 1959 a model of a new university building was exhibited at the Dammtor

Bahnhof, adjacent to the university grounds.148 In this way, the Hamburg Model City project essentially brought a constructed and complete urban future to local audiences before construction had even commenced.

As escape hatches into an alternative future and past, the models were very popular and well received. In fact, some of the models were so popular that they were moved around and were

146 Ibid. In an effort to have as many people as possible view the exhibits, the Hamburg Senate decided that models had to be rotated every four to six weeks. For example, the showcase of the bridge construction at Berliner Tor between 2 October 1958 and 21 January 1959 was replaced on January 22, 1959 with a model of the new police headquarters. The fact that the models had to be changed out every four to six weeks turned into a bit of a problem for the crew tasked with executing these rotations. Given the awkward size and heavy weight of the models, the crew parked their truck as close as possible to the display case so as to minimize walking and protect the “valuable models from rain and sunshine.” Unfortunately, these parking locations were not always legal, and it appears that the Hamburg parking authority might have been quite zealous. The construction department was apparently hit with so many parking tickets that they sent a letter to the Hamburg police department asking for more leniency. (StaHH 321-3 I, Inventory #104, Letter from the Allgemeine Technische Abteilung to the Polizeibehörde, August 4, 1961.) 147 StaHH 321-3 I_104, “Aufstellung einer Schauvitrine in Harburg,” 14.08.1961 148 “Unterrichtung: Ausstellungen,” Schriften zum Bau- Wohnungs-und Siedlungswesen Heft 31: Baujahre 1957-1958, 1958-1959 (Hamburg: Freie und Hansestadt Hamburg Baubehörde 1959), 77.

Chapter Three 177 featured at special exhibitions inside and outside of Hamburg.149 In 1959 the Hamburg Tourist

Association (Hamburg Tourist Verein) put on a small exhibit entitled “Hamburg Baut” (not to be confused with the event of the same name in 1966 put on by the City and the Hamburg

Baubehörde, see Chapter Five). For this exhibit, several models of the Hamburg Model City project were moved to be featured there.150 Other models were commissioned especially for exhibitions. This was the case for one model entitled “Reconstruction until 20.04.1953,” which was built for the Interbau Exhibition in Berlin in 1957.151 Some Hamburg Model City models were displayed at an exhibition entitled Plan 60, which travelled around Hamburg and West Germany and highlighted the reconstruction of the Hanseatic City.

Plan 60 was organized to celebrate the adoption of the General Reconstruction Plan of

1960 and inform the public about its details. Hamburg mayor Paul Nevermann opened the exhibition at the new administration building (Verwaltungsgebäude) on the Wexstraße on June 15,

1961.152 In addition to the aforementioned models, the exhibition featured maps, photos, and films that showed the city’s future face.153 The event was enormously popular, drawing twelve thousand visitors between June 15 and July 16 alone.154 The impressive numbers warranted an extension and, in the tradition of the Hamburg Model City project, the exhibition was moved so as to reach as many people as possible. In September, it reopened at the Stadthausbrücke, before moving again, this time to Altona City Hall, where it was officially opened by Senator Rudolf Büch in

April 1962.155 In 1963, the exhibition was moved again, this time to the south-east borough of

149 StaHH 321-3 I_104, “Betr. Modellschaukasten Jungfernstieg,” May 20, 1959. Yet others had to make way for other events, such as the model of the at Jungfernsteig had to be moved for the Spring Festival (Frühlingsfest in der Innenstadt). 150 StaHH 321-3 I_104, “ Betr. Aktion “Hamburg Baut,” February 9, 1959. 151 StaHH 321-3 I_104, “Betr. Stadtmodell 1953,” May 7, 1957. 152 StaHH 321-3 I_1270, “Begrüßing – SB – für die Ausstellung “Hamburg Baut,” 2; “Künftiges Gesicht der Hansestadt,” Hamburger Abendblatt, June 15, 1961; 153 “Künftiges Gesicht der Hansestadt,” Hamburger Abendblatt, June 15, 1961. 154 “Zwölftausend sahen Ausstellung “Plan 1960,” Hamburger Abendblatt, September 1, 1961. 155 “Große Bauprojekte werden ausgestellt,” Hamburger Abendblatt, September 9, 1961; “Heute eröffnet: “Plan 60” in Altona,” Hamburger Abendblatt, April 4, 1962.

Chapter Three 178

Bergedorf.156 In order to attract the greatest number of visitors possible, entry remained free throughout its run. 157 Interest in Hamburg’s reconstruction plans was not limited to Hamburg alone. The Plan 60 exhibition travelled to the West German city of Stuttgart in early 1965, where it proved to be quite popular, especially amongst the country councils and mayors in Baden-

Württemberg.158 During the opening of the exhibition, Stuttgart mayor Dr. Arnulf Klett remarked on the educational value of the exhibition, stating that, “as long as there are no recognized models for urban development and spatial planning of the future, such a show for professionals and amateurs is indispensable!”159

Conclusion:

This chapter explored how economic growth and prosperity was a cultural process that changed Dutch and West German societies. E55 and You and Your World introduced mass consumption to Dutch and West German audiences, and they did so by continuing and reinforcing narratives inaugurated at Ahoy’ and IGA’53. In this sense both events made an explicit effort to divorce the postwar Dutch and West German states from their wartime predecessors. E55 stressed the arrival of a mass consumer society as a fundamental aspect of what made postwar Dutch society different from its wartime antecedent. The embrace of new technologies, fashions, gadgets, aesthetics, methods, and ideas were all part of what made the new Netherlands better, more efficient, and more rational than what came before. It extended what “modernity” meant in the

Netherlands beyond urban and industrial organization, including the private sphere as a

156 “Das grüne Zentrum von Lohbrügge,” Hamburger Abendblatt, March 6, 1963. 157 “Heute eröffnet: “Plan 60” in Altona,” Hamburger Abendblatt, April 4, 1962. 158 “Großes Intresse in Stuttgart für ‘Plan 60,’” Hamburger Abendblatt, March 16, 1965. 159 Ibid.

Chapter Three 179 fundamental aspect of this new society. Mass consumption became part of the same trend of

“modernizing” the country, with modernization extending to the home.

In Hamburg, You and Your World likewise conspicuously inaugurated a brand new world of mass consumption, which dovetailed nicely with Hamburg’s carefully crafted international image as a friendly but efficient and rational trading partner. Increased prosperity reinforced this narrative. Because basic goods consumption had reached prewar levels by 1955, West Germans spent the remainder of the decade acquiring more and more consumer durables and household appliances, with each purchase underscoring their “West German-ness.” They acquired refrigerators and vacuum cleaners, washing machines and freezers, and finally, electric grills, mixers, and coffee makers. As Erica Carter put it, in the late 1950s, “West Germany finally acquired its postwar status as ‘consumer wonderland’”160 The consumption of consumer durables allowed West Germans a new focus in domestic life, and a new domestic identity far removed from the National Socialist past. The focus on the domestic sphere literally allowed people to forget about the past by turning their attention to acquiring new goods, each of which offered their own possibilities for reinvention.

After 1955, a brand new world of exicting consumer products became available to Dutch and West German citizens. With rising incomes, they could now afford phones, televisions, appliances, packaged foods, music records, and much more.161 The implications of increasing prosperity and mass consumption were far-reaching. Increased purchase power created possibilities for reinvention, social and economic mobility, and changed people’s perceptions of themselves and their environment. To quote Lizabeth Cohen, prosperity changed people; it changed “where they dwelled, how they interacted with others, what and how they consumed,

160 Carter, How German Is She?, 59. 161 Judt, Postwar, 351.

Chapter Three 180 what they expected of government, and much else.”162 The implications of this shift will be explored in the coming chapters, especially Chapter Five.

The Hamburg Model City project was an early indication of how prosperity altered the ways in which Hamburg citizens interacted and engaged with their urban environment. They became consumers of images of their urban recovery, surveying new developments before they went up and evaluating the worth of each design as would a consumer. This trend intensified over the next decade-and-half. While the Floriade (1960) and IGA’63 (1963) exhibitions, which form the subjects of the next chapter, focused once again largely on international development, there were nevertheless hints that pointed to people’s changing expectations of their cities, their governments, and their societies. We see, for example, that people expected more entertainment from exhibitions, and both the Floriade in Rotterdam, and the IGA’63 in Hamburg, obliged. For the Floriade, for example, the Euromast observation tower was constructed, while the organizers behind IGA’63 considered building a Disneyland-type monorail for the event. People also became more critical as consumers, and the at Floriade, but especially at IGA’63, we see the first critiques of urban recovery and economic growth due to their increasingly visible environmental costs. The implications of mass prosperity become much more pronounced, as discussed in Chapter Five.

When the time came to organize exhibitions in the early 1970s, citizens of both Rotterdam and

Hamburg made fundamentally different requests from their urban environments, their governments, and thus their exhibitions. Instead of a narrative that glorified the future, they wanted an engagement with the present and contemporary concerns; they wanted greater quality of life in the here and now, more social egalitarianism, more freedoms, and a more just society. All of these

162 Cohen speaks about the effects of mass prosperity in the American context. However, I believe the same ideas can be applied to Western Europe, albeit somewhat later. Elizabeth Cohen, A Consumer’s Republic: The Politics of Mass Consumption in Postwar America (New York: Alfred Knopf, 2003). 8.

Chapter Three 181 were effects of the prosperity introduced in many ways into Dutch and West German societies in the mid 1950s and celebrated by their exhibitions.

Chapter Four 182

Chapter Four: Garden of Men and Machines: The Golden Present of the Early 1960s

“At ten minutes to ten in the morning of Friday, March 25, we shall surely still need about five more minutes here in the crow’s nest to put things in order.” So predicted a construction worker on the Euromast on the opening of the tower in 1960. “At five minutes to ten the high- speed elevators shall bring down people who have worked on the tower for months,” he continued.

“At ten o’clock exactly [we will] … be ready for the official opening. Not ahead of schedule, but also not a minute later.”1 He was right. At exactly 10:00am in Rotterdam the Euromast opened, a majestic statue shooting skywards on the shores of the New Meuse river. Designed by Huig

Maaskant, one of the Netherlands’ most prominent postwar architects, the tower’s radical design was a testament to the Rotterdam’s undiminished faith in technological progress.2 Conceived in the futuristic and flamboyant “Googie” architectural style, the Euromast’s clean lines and funky shapes were inspired by jets, car-culture, and the space age; it embodied the optimism of the early

1960s. The future, so eagerly anticipated in the 1950s, had finally arrived.3 From its observation deck, a hundred meters up in the air, the tower offered panoramic views of the river, the city, and the 1960 Rotterdam Floriade Horticultural Exhibition. The expanse of natural beauty and blooming flowers below the tower was the perfect metaphor for the message the organizers of the event wanted to convey to the world: postwar Rotterdam was in full-bloom.

1 “Rotterdam werkt hard aan Euromast en Floriade: toren biedt magnifiek uitzicht op wereldstad en expositie-terrein,” Algemeen Handelsblad, February 6, 1960, 14. 2 GAR 315_322, “Floriade: symphonie van schoonheid,” 3. For more on Maaskant, see: Michelle Provoost, Hugh Maaskant: Architect of Progress (Rotterdam: NAi Uitgevers, 2013). 3 For more on the Googie architectural style, see the work of Alan Hess, especially: Googie: Fifties Coffee Shop Architecture (San Francisco: Chronicle Books, 1986) and Googie Redux: Ultramodern Roadside Architecture, (San Francisco: Chronicle Books, 2004).

Chapter Four 183

Organized in the early 1960s, the Floriade, as well as Hamburg’s IGA’63 exhibition, marked a brief moment in the postwar period where the promises of postwar recovery seemed to have been fulfilled. Rotterdam and Hamburg basked in prosperity, stability, and peace.4 As Tony

Judt put it, “in the[se] peak years of the modern European welfare state, when the administrative apparatus still exercised broad-ranging authority and its credibility remained unassailed, a remarkable consensus was achieved.”5 The consensus marked, in other words, the apogee of the postwar era. Given the new circumstances, the Floriade and IGA’63 necessarily broke with their predecessors. Instead of announcing or promising a better future, the exhibitions focused on contemporary concerns. Although the possibility for something more, something new, or something better would always exist, the future had, for all intents and purposes, arrived. As horticultural exhibitions, both the Floriade and IGA’63 testified to the glory, ingenuity, and prosperity of Rotterdam and Hamburg via the display of beautifully arranged flower beds, trimmed lawns, impressive water features, and modern pavilions resplendent with the latest horticultural and floricultural technological innovations. Certain aspects stayed the same. The organizers still used the events to shape public discourse. In Rotterdam, this meant that the Floriade gave plenty of attention to the latest developments in science and technology, such as genetic manipulation, artificial fertilizers, hydroponics, and especially, nuclear technology. This emphasis fit beautifully with older Rotterdam narratives about success and overcoming through the application of rationality, science, and innovation, but it also countered possible resistance against nuclear technology.6 To this end, pavilions and exhibits at the Floriade showed the potential of nuclear

4 The rising tensions of the Cold War notwithstanding, the first two postwar decades were a period of remarkable domestic peace and stability in Western Europe. 5 Tony Judt, Postwar, 361 6 Nuclear power and nuclear technology was a novelty in the Netherlands and viewed with great excitement by politicians and citizens alike. However, by the late-1950s the first anti-nuclear movements emerged in the United States, and many of the exhibits at the Floriade had the explicit aim countering such developments in the Netherlands and went to great lengths to make nuclear technology seem “friendly” and benign. For a brief exploration on early

Chapter Four 184 technology to ensure prosperity long into the future, while also stressing how exceedingly safe it was. A horticultural exhibition was a bit of a perfect choice for Rotterdam; it could show technological and scientific ingenuity, it could show trade acumen and strength and, through flowers, it could demonstrate how safe and beneficial nuclear technology was.

In Hamburg, the IGA’63 similarly responded to contemporary concerns, in this case not so much with regard to nuclear energy (at least not directly), but with recent developments in the

Cold War. As Chapter Two explored, IGA’53 had been organized in the immediate aftermath of the Second World War when, in the words of Jonathan Wiesen, “defeat, military occupation, and the Cold War forced Germans to confront the National Socialist crimes and reorient themselves to a new political, economic, and ideological setting.”7 That exhibition had helped repair an ideologically shattered country, and generated feelings of a purpose and legitimacy in the postwar world. IGA’63, although ten years later, faced similar challenges. The organization of IGA’63, which began in 1957, happened at a time when West German military and economic resurgence,

Cold War anxieties, and the legacies of the Nazi regime were front-page news. At the same time, surveys indicated that people across Western Europe continued to think of the Germans as the enemy: “warlike,” “brutal,” and “aggressive.”8 In this sense, very little had changed from 1953 and, like its predecessor, IGA’63 set out to counter the association of West Germans as militaristic.

The event again promoted the civilian virtues of economic success and industrial ingenuity, connecting West Germany to images of resourcefulness and inventiveness. In doing so, IGA’63 underscored West Germany’s commitment to the Cold War and the Western Alliance system and

anti-nuclear developments, see Thomas R. Wellock, Critical Masses: Opposition to Nuclear Power in California, 1958-1978 (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1998). 7 S. Jonathan Wiesen, West German Industry and the Challenge of the Nazi Past, 1945-1955 (Chapel Hill: North Carolina University Press, 2001), 2. 8 S. Jonathan Wiesen, “Germany’s PR Man: Julius Klein and the Making of Transatlantic Memory,” in Coping with the Nazi Past: West German Debates on Nazism and Generation Conflict, 1955-1975, eds. Philipp Gassert and Alan E. Steinweis (New York: Berghahn Books, 2007), pgs. 294-308, here pg. 294.

Chapter Four 185 redirected any notion of “the enemy” onto the Soviet Bloc, hoping to identify “the East,” rather than Germany, as the enemy of Europe.

Rotterdam’s Floriade (1960)

The Floriade was Rotterdam’s third postwar manifestation and it loudly celebrated all that had been achieved in the city. By 1960, in Rotterdam and the Netherlands, postwar recovery was in full swing: the new central station had opened three years prior, and impressive development projects marked the downtown core. The Rotterdam port was likewise growing tremendously. The construction of the Botlek harbour area near Vlaardingen and Rozenburg, which began in 1955, was completely rented out by 1960. That same year, the ambitious Europoort and Maasvlakte I and II port developments, further to the west, created massive offshore extensions that set

Rotterdam on track to become the largest port in the world by 1962.9 Thanks in no small part to the booming development of the port, the Dutch economy grew by an average of 4.5 to 5 per cent per year during the 1950s.10 Real incomes climbed at a slightly lower, but still impressive, rate of

3.7 per cent annually over the course of the same decade.11 Internationally, the Netherlands appeared fully integrated into the new postwar order. The Dutch government signed the 1948

Treaty of Brussels and joined the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) when it was founded the following year. It was a founding member of the European Coal and Steel Commission

9 Henrik Stevens, The Institutional Position of Seaports: An International Comparison (Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1999), 59; Alan Harding, “Amsterdam and Rotterdam,” in European Cities Towards 2000: Profiles, Policies, and Prospects, eds. Alan Harding, John Dawson, Richard Evans and Michael Parkinson (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1994), 18-44, here pg. 22; Erwin van Tuijl and Alexander Otgaar, “RDM Campus (Rotterdam),” in Delivering Sustainable Competitiveness: Revisiting the Organizing Capacity of Cities, eds. Luís Carvalho, et.al. (New York: Routledge, 2017), pgs. 162-183, here pg. 163; Erik Nijhof, “‘Dock-work is a skilled profession’. Descasualization and the Rotterdam labour market (1945-1970)” in The World’s Key Industry: History and Economics of International Shipping, eds. Gelina Harlaftis, Stig Tenold, and Jesús M. Valdaliso (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012), pgs. 275-288, here pg. 277. 10 Kees Schuyt and Ed Taverne, Dutch Culture in a European Perspective, Vol. 4: 1950: Prosperity and Welfare (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004), 245. 11 Ibid., 248.

Chapter Four 186

(ECSC) in 1951, and, six years later, in 1957, the Netherlands signed the Treaty of Rome which established the European Economic Community (EEC). The late 1950s and early 1960s were thus a second Golden Age for the Dutch: the economy was booming and the small country was at the forefront of the birth of a new intra-European postwar world.12

The Floriade of 1960 marked the zenith of this second Golden Age. As the immediate successor to Ahoy’ (1950) and E55 (1955), the event continued the staging of a narrative of progress, departure, optimism, and undiminished faith in technology. Those exhibitions had enthusiastically embraced science and technology after the war, which supported a national desire for efficiency and rationality, could increase production, and served to mark Rotterdam’s (and the

Netherlands’) postwar modernity. Like the Brussels World’s Fair two years before, the Floriade thus embraced technology as a force for good in the modern era, stressing the benefits of nuclear energy through several pavilions and exhibits. The Floriade also embraced science and technology. Technological innovation, so the Floriade’s narrative went, would ensure Rotterdam’s preeminence on the world stage and would procure Dutch prosperity long into the future.

Although the Floriade was a flower show, its focus on technology centered on nuclear energy. The Dutch public and government had grown enthusiastic about the possibilities of nuclear research after the American “Atoms for Peace” program had mounted several exhibitions in the country in the mid 1950s. The United States government, at the initiative of President Eisenhower, started the “Atoms for Peace” program in 1953, with the intent of improving the international reputation of nuclear energy and technology. To this end, they organized travelling exhibitions, supplied information to schools and research institutions, and sponsored other international events

12 Economists W. Driehuis and J.J. Klant have labeled the period from 1948 to 1973 the “Golden Quarter Century.” W. Driehuis, and J.J. Klant, “The Nature and Causes of the World Depression,” De Economist 131, No. 4 (December 1983), pgs. 474-497, here pg. 474, cited in Schuyt and Taverne, Dutch Culture in a European Perspective, 245.

Chapter Four 187

(like the Floriade) to highlight the peaceful properties of nuclear research.13 As part of this program, an American-sponsored exhibition entitled “The Atom: Hope for the Future” (Het

Atoom: Hoop voor de toekomst) had travelled to several cities in the Netherlands in 1955. In March of that year, the exhibition reached Rotterdam.14 It consisted of five trailers which expandable walls and explained how nuclear research could benefit industry, agriculture, and healthcare.15

Foreshadowing some of the themes at the Floriade five years later, the exhibition highlighted the peaceful qualities of atomic energy and pointed to the fact that, for example, a 60kw lamp could burn for 108 million hours on just one kilo of enriched Uranium-235. In another example, it contrasted nuclear power with conventional energy, pointing to the fact that the energy required for a train to travel around the earth three times was either 2.6 million kilos of coal or, again, one kilo of Uranium-235.16 In 1957, another exhibition dedicated to the peaceful qualities of nuclear research opened, this time at Amsterdam airport Schiphol. The highlight of this exhibition was a

“working” nuclear reactor (albeit with a tiny capacity of just 260 grams of enriched-Uranium), which drew great crowds.17 Sponsored by the city of Amsterdam, the exhibition once again stressed how “good” ans safe nuclear power and energy was.

The “Atoms for Peace” program also included sharing American nuclear information and materials with allied powers, from which the Netherlands benefited tremendously. The Dutch nuclear industry had lofty visions of what this energy could do for the country. In 1957, the Dutch

13 Ira Chernus, Eisenhower’s Atoms for Peace (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 2002); Richard G. Hewlett and Jack M. Holl, Atoms for Peace 1953-1961: Eisenhower and the Atomic Energy Commission (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989). 14 “Tentoonstelling over ’t Atoom,” Het Vrije Volk: Het Vrije Volk, March 3, 1955. In addition to Rotterdam, the exhibition also visited The Hague, Eindhoven, Amsterdam, Utrecht, and Enschede. 15 “Atoom, hoop voor de toekomst geopened,” Het Vrije Volk, January 20, 1955. The fact that exhibitions were necessary to remind people of the peaceful qualities of nuclear power is clearly demonstrated by the placing of this newspaper article. Right below the announcement for the exhibition, an article with the headline “A-Bomb Shelter in Roosendaal,” describing how this shelter would be crucial infrastructure in case of nuclear war. 16 “Mobiele Kernergergie-tentoonstelling weldra ook in Nederland: Overzichtelijk beeld van vreedzame toepassing der atoomenergie,” Amigoe di Curacao: weekblad voor de Caracoasche eilanden, January 17, 1955. 17 The 250,000th vistor received a fridge. “IJskast voor de kwart-miljoenste,” De Tijd, August 5, 1957.

Chapter Four 188 minister of Economic Affairs, Jelle Zijlstra, predicted that the first nuclear power plant in the country (Dodewaard) would open in 1962 and that half of all Dutch electrical needs could be met by nuclear power by 1975.18 The Dutch were excited about the peaceful prospects of nuclear power and, as Kees Schuyt and Ed Taverne have pointed out, a full 10 per cent of government scientific funding between 1955 and 1971 was channeled toward nuclear research and development.19

Municipal authorities in Rotterdam were likewise concerned with getting a nuclear reactor in their city – the ultimate sign of progress and advancement – and had worked steadily towards this goal.

Newspaper reports from as early as 1956 indicated that the city was willing to contribute up to ƒ60 million for the development of a nuclear reactor in the Waalhaven area, just south of downtown.20

In this context, the Floriade prominently featured and embraced technology. The exhibition was designed to celebrate Rotterdam’s progress in the previous fifteen years, but also to boost the city’s trade abilities and highlight the newest technological inventions as crucial for

Rotterdam’s future growth and development. In this light, the focus on nuclear technology in particular showed the way to the future. The atom was the future. A focus on nuclear science in light of flowers, moreover, would also alleviate the potential fears or hesitations that people might have had about nuclear science. Exhibits dealt with pesticides, genetics, chemistry, nuclear energy, and greenhouse techniques in keeping with earlier themes of national recovery and

18 This proved to be overly ambitious. The construction of the Dodewaard power plant did not commence until 1963 and constructed finished in 1969. The construction of a nuclear powerplant in Borssele soon followed and was completed in 1973. In the mid-1970s the national government developed plans for the construction of three more nuclear power plants, to be completed by 1985. Public opinion soon turned against nuclear power in the Netherlands, however, and Dodewaard and Borssele remained the only Dutch nuclear reactors (although there were a number of nuclear research institutes, often attached to universities). See: Kees Aarts and Maarten Arentsen, “Nuclear Power and Politics in the Netherlands,” in The Politics of Nuclear Energy in Western Europe, eds. Wolfgang C. Müller and Paul W. Thurner (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017), pgs. 215-234; Michael T. Hatch, Politics and Nuclear Power: Energy Policy in Western Europe (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1986), 172-173; Schuyt and Taverne, Dutch Culture in a European Perspective, 114-117. 19 Schuyt and Taverne, Dutch Culture in a European Perspective, 115. 20 GAR 315_328, various newspaper clippings: “Krijgt Rotterdam Atoomcentrale? Zestig miljoen extra voor de bouw van Centrale Waalhaven,” Rotterdams Nieuwsblad, November 2, 1956, and “Rotterdamse Gemeenteraad: Intern. tuinbouwexpositie vindt ieders instemming. Bouw van atoomcentrale zal zeker mogelijk worden,” November 2, 1956.

Chapter Four 189 modernization.21 Indeed, the flourishing flowers and plants served as symbols for Rotterdam’s resurrection from the ashes. These ideas were underscored by the Floriade’s slogan, Van Kiem to

Kracht, which roughly translates to From Seed to Strength. The event’s symbol, designed by artist

Kees van Roemburg from The Hague, who had also designed the Ahoy’-sailor (“Johnny Ahoy”) and the E55 logos, reinforced this message of national recovery and resurrection.22 The symbol – a pink coloured dot surrounded by a black swirl which turned green near the top – served as a stylistic impression of a seed emerging above the soil. It symbolized Rotterdam’s reemergence on the world stage.23

The task of executing this vision was left to experienced hands. After the successful conclusion of E55, the Rotterdam City Council called upon that event’s organizing committee to arrange a follow-up for 1960.24 The group, previously known as Committee Rotterdam 1955, renamed itself Committee Rotterdam 1960 and went to work. Jacques Kleiboer returned as the

Chairman of the Executive Committee for a third and final time. He was assisted by Jan Tillema, the Director of Municipal Works and Deputy Chairman of the Floriade, and Dr. A.J. Verhage, the

Chairman of the Board of Directors.25 Alderman Johannes Hasper returned as financial manager, also for a third and final time. Architects Johannes H. van den Broek and Jacob B. Bakema were once again in charge of the event’s overall aesthetic, while Karel Paul van de Mandele, Chairman of the Rotterdam Chamber of Commerce, now aged 80, was involved in the organization of a

21 Patricia van Ulzen, Imagine a Metropolis: Rotterdam’s Creative Class, 1970-2000 (Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 2007), 67. 22 GAR 315_328, “Floriade 1960,” iv. 23 “Floriade heet tuinbouwtentoonstelling” Nieuwsblad van het Noorden, January 15, 1959, 13; “Na ‘Ahoy’ en E55: ‘Floriade 1960’,” De Waarheid, January 16, 1959, 3. 24 “Dagelijkse Kroniek,” Rotterdams Jaarboekje, Series 6, Year04, 1956, 43 25 GAR 315_323, “Bezoek Amerikaanse minister van landbouw aan de Floriade – Rotterdam, donderdag 4 augustus,” 2; GAR 315_322, “Toespraak Dr. A.J. Verhage, Rotterdam, 7 Mei, 1958,” 1.

Chapter Four 190 manifestation for the last time. J. van den Berg succeeded Van de Mandele as head of the

Rotterdam Chamber of Commerce after the Floriade concluded.26

Jacques Kleiboer, who had a knack for these things, came up with the idea of turning the

Rotterdam manifestation of 1960 into a horticultural exhibition. It was a little unorthodox, but it made sense for multiple reasons.27 The organization of a garden show provided an incentive to repair and restore Het Park which, after two exhibitions and a massive flood, looked increasingly dilapidated. The exhibition’s date also coincided with the 100th anniversary of the Royal General

Association for Flower Bulb Culture (Koninklijke Algemeene Vereeniging voor

Bloembollencultuur, KAVB), the national horticultural trade association.28 The year furthermore marked four centuries since Leiden Professor Carolus Clusius had imported the first tulip bulb from Turkey to the Netherlands, after he determined that the flower would do exceptionally well in the particular soil structure of the Dutch coast.29 Ever since then the tulip had been tremendously important to Dutch exports and Dutch culture, becoming a symbol of the country at large. During the Golden Age the Netherlands became known internationally for its flowers and flower-bulb exports.30 A horticultural exhibition, therefore, would honour the city’s more distant past, grounding Rotterdam’s history in a long and proud narrative of international trade and exports, while also providing an opportunity to highlight its green spaces and cultural amenities (which were stressed as important counterweights to Rotterdam’s increasingly built-up urban form).

26 A.J. Teychiné Stakenburg, “Ter Nagedachtenis, Mr. K.P. van der Mandele (1880-1975), Rotterdams Jaarboekje, Series 08, Year 04 (1976), 107 27 Kleiboer also had extensive experience with the organization of horticultural exhibitions in particular. He had done so on four previous occasions: in Enschede in 1926, 1936, and 1951, and in Rotterdam in 1938. He was also responsible for the organization of the Dutch flower and floriculture pavilion at the 1935 Brussels’s World’s Fair. GAR 315_322, “Bloemen en Raketten,” 1. 28 GAR 315_322, “Eeuwfeest van de Bloembollencultuur op de Floriade, Rotterdam 1960” 1. 29 GAR 315_322, “1960, het jaar van de Olympiade zal ook het jaar van de Floriade zijn,” 1; Kim Zweerink, “Het Park aan de Maas,” Rotterdams Jaarboekje, Series 1, Year 1 (2009), 190. 30 GAR 315_322, “1960, het jaar van de Olympiade zal ook het jaar van de Floriade zijn,” 1.

Chapter Four 191

The Floriade, then, combined themes from both Ahoy’ and E55, giving them a particular horticultural twist. Like Ahoy’, it promoted Dutch trade, underscoring especially the Netherlands’ leading status as an exporter of horticultural products, the trade in which had an annual value of roughly $180 million dollars in 1960.31 And like E55, the event highlighted the social and cultural progress of postwar Dutch society, continuing the emphasis on individual consumption and productivity as a way to mark a departure from the past. As a horticultural exhibition, moreover, the event also highlighted a particular aspect of Rotterdam’s urban modernity, emphasizing how much healthier postwar Rotterdam was as compared to its prewar predecessor. Attempts to improve quality of life by introducing light, air, and open green spaces into dense urban areas had long been a cornerstone of modernist urban planning.32 Key members of the International Congress of Modern Architecture (CIAM, Congrés Internationaux d’Architecture Moderne), established in

1928, such as Le Corbusier and Cornelis van Eesteren, all stressed the importance of green space to the overall health of a city. One could see this emphasis on Rotterdam’s green spaces as underscoring a narrative of postwar urban modernity.33

Yet for all of its similarities with what had come before, the Floriade also marked an important break. It was the first postwar manifestation to include extensive international participation.34 The event became the first World Horticultural Exhibition recognized by the

Bureau of International Expositions (BIE) as well as the International Association of Horticultural

Producers (Association Internationale des Producteurs de l’Horticulture, or AIPH), and as such was the first A1-classified horticultural exhibition ever. In the spirit of international cooperation

31 GAR315_328, “International Horticultural Exhibition Rotterdam 1960,” 1. 32 See, for example: Konstanze Sylva Domhardt, “From the ‘Functional City’ to the ‘Heart of the City’: Green Space and Public Space in the CIAM debates 1942-1952,” in Greening the City: Urban Landscapes in the Twentieth Century, eds. Dorothee Brantz and Sonja Dümpelmann, 133-158. 33 For more on this, see Chapter One. 34 GAR 315_322, “1960, het jaar van de Olympiade zal ook het jaar van de Floriade zijn,” 1.

Chapter Four 192 and unity, Rotterdam welcomed over sixty exhibit contributions from seventeen countries.35 Many of the European kingdoms, including Belgium, Greece, Luxembourg, Monaco, Sweden, and the

Netherlands contributed to an impressive outdoor pavilion and greenhouse complex called the

King’s Garden (Koningshof).36 The United Kingdom sent English roses and organized the

“Churchill Gardens” pavilion, which sought to recreate a corner of Winston Churchill’s Chartwell

Estate in Kent.37 Israel, South Africa, Spain, and Italy, as well as Suriname and New Guinea, sent tropical fruits, while the United States provided a massive exhibit to demonstrate “the American way of life.”38 The internationalism of the Floriade was further underscored by its name, which reflected both the pre-war Dutch Flora exhibitions, as well as the 1960 Rome Olympics

(Olympiade). Indeed, Jacques Kleiboer often referred to the Floriade as the “Olympics of

Horticulture.”39

International participation meant that the Floriade had a much bigger reach and audience than any of its predecessors. As such, it was a landmark exhibition: bigger, brighter, and a lot more expensive. Over ƒ15 million, raised both publicly and privately, was invested in the event. The

City of Rotterdam provided ƒ3.5 million as a base guarantee. This was over three-and-a-half times more money than it had promised for Ahoy’ a decade earlier. Beyond that, private firms from across the country, especially those in the horticultural, floricultural, agricultural, and arboricultural industries, provided a further ƒ5 million worth of plants, flowers, shrubberies, and

35 GAR 315_323, “Nederlandse Minister van Landbouw sloot de FLORIADE Terugblik op succesvolle Internationale tuinbouwtentoonstelling,” 1. 36 GAR 315_328, “Een Koningshof op de Floriade.” 37 GAR 315_322, “Idyllische hoek van Churchill’s landgoed Chartwell op de Floriade,” 1. 38 GAR 315_322, “Bijeenkomst ‘Floriade’ - 5 oktober 1959. Inleiding C.F. Broerse, voorzitter hoofdcommissie Aanleg en Beplanting,” 2; GAR 315_322, “Eerste grote zending voor de Amerikaanse afdeling op de FLORIADE;” GAR315_322, “Amerikanen tonen hun tuinbouw op de Floriade in 1960 te Rotterdam. Een miljoen gulden voor inzendingen uit de V.S.,” 1; GAR315_328: “International Horticultural Exhibition Rotterdam 1960,” 6; “US Participates in 1960 Floriade,” The Science Newspaper, May 21, 1960, 333. 39 The name “Floriade” itself was a combination of the word Flora, the Roman Goddess of Flowers and Spring-time, and the Dutch word for the Olympics – Olympiade – which were held in Rome that same year. “Motto: ‘Van kiem tot kracht’ Tuinbouwexpositie zal Floriade heten” Het Vrije Volk: Democratisch-socialistisch dagblad, January 15, 1959, 1.

Chapter Four 193 other materials. The remainder would be raised through stall-rentals, entry fees, and concession stands, which were estimated to contribute around ƒ3 million. The remaining ƒ3.5 million was for the construction of the Euromast observation tower, privately financed through a public company,

Euromast N.V.40

To promote the event, and Dutch horticulture in general, Kleiboer came up with the idea of a postal carriage ride from Istanbul to Rotterdam, thus retracing the journey of the first tulip bulb.41 According to legend, in 1560 Flemish Marquis Ogier Ghislain de Busbecq, at the request of Professor Carolus Clusius, travelled from Turkey to Western Europe, bringing the first tulip bulb with him.42 Ostensibly to celebrate this event, but primarily to promote the Floriade, an actor dressed as Busbecq repeated the 3404 kilometer trek in a postal carriage drawn by nine horses.43

The journey crossed six countries, and was supposed to take approximately six weeks. It was a huge media event, attracting attention across Western Europe. The actor’s departure from Istanbul alone attracted more than 300,000 people.44 Daily radio and newspaper updates kept the public informed of his progress.45 The promotional stunt brought the Floriade considerable attention before the event had even started.

The location for the Floriade was once again Het Park and the the exhibition facilities to the north of the Westzeedijk at the Museum Boymans-van Beuningen. It was a popular location:

40 GAR 315_322, “1960, het jaar van de Olympiade zal ook het jaar van de Floriade zijn,” subheading “Financiering,” 2. 41 “Postkoets vertrokken,” Het Vrije Volk: Democratisch-socialistisch dagblad: speciale editie gedrukt op de Floriade 1960, March 30, 1960. 42 GAR 315_322, “Anno voorjaar 1960: de tulp opnieuw per postkoets van Turkije naar de lage landen.” As Floris Paalman has pointed out, the actual historical events were a little different: “In 1593, the Flemish botanist Charles de l’Écluse (Carolus Clusius) was contracted by the University of Leiden to set up a botanical garden, after he had been working at the Imperial Gardens in Vienna. Shortly before he had met Ogier Ghislain de Busbecq in Vienna, who had just come back from the Turkish Court. The latter gave tulip bulbs to Clusius, who cultivated them in Leiden. The fourth centenary of the ‘Dutch Tulip’ would thus be in 1993.” Floris Paalman, Cinematic Rotterdam: the Times and Tides of a Modern City (Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 2011), 320. 43 The original plan was for the carriage to be drawn by 10 horses. However, one of the horses succumbed to pneumonia shortly after arriving in Istanbul. ANP Nieuwsbericht, 30.03.1960. 44 “Floriade-koets op weg, De Tijd / Maasbode, April 4, 1960; ANP Nieuwsbericht, March 30, 1960. 45 ANP Nieuwsbericht, April 11, 1960.

Chapter Four 194 covering over forty hectares, with close proximity to the city’s centre and with panoramic views of the river. Although Het Park had been used for both Ahoy’ and E55, the location had not been thoroughly restored after the Second World War and was hardly functional as a public green space.

In fact, Ahoy’ and E55 had only further contributed to its deterioration. The Ahoy’ executive committee promised in 1950 to restore and improve the park after the exhibition wrapped up.46 By

1951, the funds for this promised restoration disappeared from the books and the improvements never materialized.47 The North Sea Flood of 1953 and the E55 exhibition further contributed to the park’s decline, killing trees and shrubbery and leaving the park with empty sites after the temporary exhibition structures had been torn down. In designing E55’s layout, moreover, Van den Broek and Bakema had not taken the existing layout of the park into consideration, and had filled in some of the park’s existing bodies of water to make more room for exhibition pavilions.

While no immediate problems manifested themselves, the changing of the water works turned parts of Het Park into swampland by the time E55 ended. For the required restorations, the organization had only made ƒ127,000 available – a very small amount given the damage done.

The local newspaper Rotterdamsch Nieuwsblad wrote in response: “E55 left Het Park looking like a battlefield. Restorations will cost more time than expected and our beloved park looks like it has been used for an army exercise by a regiment of soldiers with tanks and heavy artillery.”48 When the city council had to decide whether or not Het Park could be used for the Floriade, it relented once again when the Floriade executive committee promised that they would not “increase the damage to the park and… leave it better than they found it.”49

46 Rotterdamsch Nieuwsblad, July 5, 1954; Kim Zweerink, “Het Park aan de Maas,” Rotterdams Jaarboekje, Series 1, Year 1, (2009), 189. 47 Zweerink, “Het Park aan de Maas,” 190. 48 Ibid. 49 GAR 315_359, “Floriade, Symphonie van Kleuren,” Algemeen Handelsblad, August 26, 1959.

Chapter Four 195

This time the committee kept its promise. In 1961, a year after the exhibition, the Rotterdam

Historical Society, Roterodamum, reported in its annual review of the city, Rotterdam’s Yearbook

(Rotterdams Jaarboekje), that the Floriade had indeed tremendously improved Het Park. It had not only preserved the park’s successful history, but it had added new elements, such as additional seating and children’s playgrounds which gave the park “renewed recreational value.”50 Indeed, at a horticultural exhibition visitors had expected an aesthetically pleasing and restorative natural experience, which in itself necessitated the upgrade of Het Park.51 First designed in 1875, Het Park

“contained elements representative of the style of the period: reflecting ponds, curvilinear paths and oriental conceits.”52 For the Floriade, the garden architects J.T.P. Bijhouwer and M.J. Vroom sought to highlight these qualities, and Van den Broek and Bakema were sure not to overpower the exhibition area with architectural constructions.53 They reused both the Energy- and Ahoy’- exhibition halls and only built very minimally for the Floriade, using highly modern materials, including glass, wood, and concrete, and a neutral colour palette dominated by whites and greys.

This mix of colours and materials stood in contrast to the bright colours of the blooming vegetation.54

One of the main draws of the event was the American pavilion. Stemming from the “Atoms for Peace” program, the Floriade organizational committee had desperately wanted the United

States to be involved in the exhibition and had written various branches of the US government as well as private American firms asking to participate.55 “The official participation would be in the section ‘Gardens of the Nations,’” the organizers wrote, “in which we propose to see a typical

50 “Openbare Werken,” Rotterdams Jaarboekje, Series 06, Year 10, (1962), 95. 51 Andrew C. Theokas, Grounds for Review: The Garden Festival in Urban Planning and Design (Liverpool: Liverpool university Press, 2004), 16. 52 Theokas, Grounds for Review, 106-107. 53 Zweerink, “Het Park aan de Maas,” 192 54 Peter de Winter, Ahoy’, E55, Floriade, C70: Evenementen in Rotterdam (Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 1988), 85. 55 GAR315_328: “International Horticultural Exhibition Rotterdam 1960,” 6.

Chapter Four 196

American home or part of this, with main emphasis on the kitchen: the famous American kitchen with its push-button ranges, waste disposal units, refrigerator, freezer, and air-conditioning. In this kitchen the preparation of typical American dishes, vegetarian or otherwise, might be demonstrated (fruit pies, salads, etc.).”56 The emphasis on produce here was supposed to underscore the Floriade’s green theme. America, moreover, embodied the future to the organizers and to many Dutch citizens. It represented material and political prosperity which the organizers of the exhibition hoped to bring to the Netherlands. The display was a glimpse into what the future would have in store for all. Pushing their luck, the organizers even asked if “a young American couple, perhaps with very young children, might actually live in the house [to] create a homely atmosphere.”57

The Americans obliged, committed over 300,000 dollars to the project, and presented a three-and-a-half-acre display consisting of various parts, all of which highlighted aspects of the

American dream.58 Located on the “bult” (bump) in Het Park, the centre piece of the pavilion was a bungalow outfitted with the latest technological innovations and household appliances, which the organizers of the Floriade promoted as being “typical of the American way of life.”59 The bungalow (which was sold to a Dutch private citizen from Barendrecht after the Floriade ended) was called the Redwood House and displayed “how the ‘average American spends their weekend outdoors and in nature.’” It introduced the concepts of ‘Dream-Kitchen,’ ‘Open Garage,’

‘Barbequing,’ and ‘Patio’ into the Dutch vocabulary.”60 The bungalow’s garden included patios

56 GAR315_328: “International Horticultural Exhibition Rotterdam 1960,” 6. 57 Ibid. 58 GAR315_322, “Amerikanen tonen hun tuinbouw op de Floriade in 1960 te Rotterdam. Een miljoen gulden voor inzendingen uit de V.S.,” 1; GAR315_328: “International Horticultural Exhibition Rotterdam 1960,” 6; “US Participates in 1960 Floriade,” The Science Newspaper, May 21, 1960, 333. 59 GAR315_322, “Amerikanen tonen hun tuinbouw op de Floriade in 1960 te Rotterdam. Een miljoen gulden voor inzendingen uit de V.S.,” 1. 60 Peter de Winter, Evenementen, 89.

Chapter Four 197 made of red wood, where the weekend of the “average” American was on display, while other parts showed off the newest consumer durables.

The Floriade was the first major horticultural exhibition in which the Americans participated to this extent. The exhibit showed American consumer prosperity, but it also highlighted its technological innovativeness. A section of the American pavilion was organized by the Atomic Energy Commission, and demonstrated how “peaceful atomic research contribute[d] to knowledge of plant functions.”61 This emphasis on nuclear energy was prevalent at many other exhibits as well. The pavilion Space and Earth (Heelal en Aarde) featured an exhibit devoted to nuclear energy. With movies and other visual aids, it highlighted how new technologies were used to “extract” energy from atoms. It emphasized that nuclear energy was not dangerous, but that instead it was a “primordial energy” just waiting to be harnessed.62 To further underscore historical connections and foreground the inherent safety of nuclear energy, the pavilion presented the latest developments in nuclear research in a longer historical context. It connected recent scientists and scientific discoveries, like Otto Hahn (radio activity) and Niels Bohr (quantum physics), with older scientific developments that were generally accepted by the public and already considered safe, such as Thomas Edison and Alexander Graham-Bell, and even as far back Antonie van

Leeuwenhoek, the inventor of the miscroscope, and the Montgolfier brothers, who had invented the globe aérostatique (the hot air balloon).63A nearby room showed how nuclear energy and atomic research might be used in space exploration, fueling artificial satellites and rockets. An ad on the pavilion’s wall featured a quote lifted from an (unnamed) American newsmagazine, stating

“Every day, we bring ourselves closer to the energy resources and natural resources of the other

61 “US Participates in 1960 Floriade,” The Science Newspaper, May 21, 1960, 333. 62 GAR 315_322, “Zon, bron van energie voor plant, dier en mens: ‘Heelal en Aarde’ – Nieuwe Expositie in het Kader van de Floriade,” 2. 63 GAR 315_322, “Enkele van de op de expositie ‘Heelal en Aarde’ getoonde foto-vergrotingen,” 1.

Chapter Four 198 planets.”64 Future prosperity and plenty, then, was intimately wrapped up with (nuclear) scientific exploration and developments promoted at the Floriade.

A large permanent pavilion in the Ahoy’ Hall, organized under the same name as the

Floriade’s slogan, From Seed to Strength, highlighted Dutch scientific ingenuity and featured exhibits that touted national progress in peaceful nuclear energy research. The Institute for the

Application of Atomic Energy in Agriculture (Instituut voor de Toepassing van Atoomenergie in de Landbouw, or ITAL) based in Wageningen was among the many research institutes in the country that participated in the pavilion, organizing a display that showed visitors how the genetic manipulation of flowers with neutron bombardments could eliminate mutations in plant genes.65

The pavilion consisted of a model reactor, provided by the institute, and demonstrated to people how genetic mutations were used to develop new flower species.66 The pavilion also featured displays on germination, virus control, flower storage, and flower preservation. For example, cooling cells showed how temperature control prolonged the lifespan of flower-bulbs and benefited international trade. Visitors, in turn, could witness first-hand how these innovations stimulated the Dutch export trade and contributed to the overall prosperity of the country. The display combined the emphasis on (nuclear) technology, progress, and economic prosperity and well being, perfectly summing up what the Floriade was all about. The exhibition’s executive committee referred to the pavilion as “the soul of the Floriade,” further underscoring the importance they attached to it.67

64 GAR 315_322, “Zon, bron van energie voor plant, dier en mens: ‘Heelal en Aarde’ – Nieuwe Expositie in het Kader van de Floriade,” 2. 65 GAR 315_322, “Persconferentie 17 Februari 1960: Bijzondere Aspecten van de Floriade;” “Tuinbouwkundige Annette Zeylstra werkt op Rotterdamse Floriade,” Leeuwarder Courant, April 24, 1960. 66 GAR 315_322, “De wetenschap in de tuinbouw: Interessante inzending onder het thema ‘van Kiem tot Kracht’,” 1. 67 GAR 315_322, “De ‘ziel’ van de Floriade: ‘Van Kiem to Kracht.’ De inzendingen der wetenschappelijke instituten en proefstations.”

Chapter Four 199

The other major scientific exhibit at the fair were the Greenhouses of Knowledge (Kassen der Wetenschap). Here the National Test Station for Seed Control (Rijksproefstation), together with various scientific institutions and laboratories in Wageningen, Naaldwijk, Lisse, Boskoop, and Alsmeer focused on the development of new varieties of seeds.68 One display placed two plants side-by-side: one fed by plain water and the other by a solution of nitrogen, phosphor, potassium, calcium, and magnesium.69 The comparison allowed visitors to witness the effects of artificial fertilizers on plant growth, and how this business had contributed to the Netherlands’ status as the number one world exporter of flowers. A similar exhibit, entitled From Garden to Table (Van Tuin

Naar Tafel) highlighted how the latest innovations in the production of fruits and vegetables contributed to the national health and the overall economy.70 It showed how different soils and irrigation methods promoted specific growth patterns for agricultural products like peaches, prunes, tomatoes, and cucumbers.71 The display emphasized that the annual Dutch production for vegetables and fruit stood at 1,158,000 tons and 490,000 tons, respectively. Of this, the display highlighted, 490,000 tons of vegetables and 90,000 tons of fruit were for international export, clearly showing the great significance of Dutch horticulture to the national economy.72 Another exhibit, dubbed the “strange aquarium” by the press, displayed early pioneering works in hydroponics and likewise emphasized the research’s economic and scientific significance.73

In the end, the Floriade was the ultimate manifestation of the postwar Netherlands. It went to great lengths to demonstrate to its visitors how far the city had come since 1945. Its overwhelming emphasis on science and technology was also characteristic of other exhibitions of the era, such as the 1958 Brussels’ World’s Fair and the 1962 Seattle World’s Fair. At the

68 GAR 315_322, “1960, het jaar van de Olympiade zal ook het jaar van de Floriade zijn,” 4. 69 “Stikstof Fosfor Kali: In Wetenschapskas toont men verschil in plant,” Het Vrije Volk, April 7, 1960. 70 De Winter, Evenementen, 87. 71 GAR 315_322, “Van Tuin Naar Tafel: De Eetbare Tuinbouw op de Floriade,” 1-2. 72 Ibid.,” 2. 73 “Vreemd Aquarium,” Het Vrije Volk, August 19, 1960.

Chapter Four 200 conclusion of the Floriade, Chairman of the Board of Directors, A.J. Verhage, declared that the

Floriade had offered a well-rounded picture of the postwar Netherlands in general, and postwar

Rotterdam in particular, demonstrating her will to work, her ingenuity, her energy, and her ambition.74 He concluded that he hoped the world had taken notice of the city’s remarkable successes since 1945.75 If visitor numbers were to be believed, they certainly did. Over the course of the summer of 1960, over three million people visited Rotterdam and the Floriade. The

Euromast alone attracted over 681,000 people, beating the executive committee’s expectations of half a million.76 During Easter, the General Dutch Press Agency (Algemeen Nederlands

Persbureau, ANP) reported record numbers of tourists visiting the Netherlands, and especially the

Floriade and the Keukenhof flower show near Lisse. Over that weekend, the Floriade attracted between 60 and 70 thousand visitors; the Keukenhof drew 50 thousand.77 Despite these high numbers, the overall attendance fell short of expectations. While three million people visited the exhibition in total, this was the same as E55 five years prior.78 Considering that the Floriade was supposed to have a broader and more international appeal, the numbers were disappointing. To make matters worse, E55 had attracted three million visitors in only three months, whereas the

Floriade had been open for twice that amount of time.

Part of the problem might have been exhibition-fatigue. The Floriade was the third manifestation in 10 years, and people were beginning to be cynical of the necessity of exhibitions and what they represented. Ina van den Beugel, a prolific postwar columnist who published in

74 GAR 315_323, “Minister Marijnen Sloot de Floriade: Tuinbouw ziet terug op succesvolle tentoonstelling;” GAR 315_323, “Nederlandse Minister van Landbouw sloot de FLORIADE Terugblik op succesvolle Internationale tuinbouwtentoonstelling;” GAR 315_323, “Toespraak van Dr. A.J. Verhage, algemeen voorzitter van de FLORIADE, bij de officiële sluiting van de Internationale Tuinbouwtentoonstelling, zondag 25 september 1960.” 75 GAR 315_323, “Toespraak van Dr. A.J. Verhage, algemeen voorzitter van de FLORIADE, bij de officiële sluiting van de Internationale Tuinbouwtentoonstelling, zondag 25 september 1960.” 76 Zweerink, “Het Park aan de Maas,” 192. 77 ANP Nieuwsbericht, April 17, 1960. 78 GAR315_328, “Overgenomen uit: ‘The New Yorker,’ d.d. 16 mei 1959.” The New Yorker stated that as many as 5 million people were expected.

Chapter Four 201 national newspapers for over 30 years between the 1950s and the 1980s, and known for her taciturn and ironic way of writing, captured the mood ahead of the Floriade:

“With fear and trembling, I have taken notice of the Floriade; the great horticultural exhibition which will be held in Rotterdam from March to September. It will be a massive affair with greenhouses and flower beds and parks. With international competitions and submissions and exhibitions. It will be formidable and breathtaking and I can already see myself there, trudging along forty hectares of ‘breathtakingness’ with thick feet and a throbbing head. Every year there is something else enormous to be exhibited: sometimes it’s the world and sometimes it’s an entire historical era and sometimes it’s mankind. Then it is everything for ladies, or everything technical, or everything related to automobiles. One trudges from one formidable thing to another, always with thick feet, always with aching fatigue ... And so, in March 1960, we will all head to the Floriade. It will no doubt be unique, gigantic, and formidable.79

Van den Beugel clearly points to the fact that the narrative of superlatives was wearing thin. “I already know now exactly how it will go with the Floriade,” she wrote, “For the first six weeks

I’ll say I won’t go. Then, after hearing about it everywhere and reading about how overwhelming, how unique, how inconceivable it all is, I will, hesitant at first, reconsider my plans.”80 Exhibitions had presented life for the previous ten years in superlatives. However, increasingly, this narrative of unrestrained growth and innovation was beginning to show downsides. The Floriade was the last of the euphoric postwar exhibitions that channeled Rotterdam’s penchant for modernity and renewal. Small events in the mid 1960s toned down this narrative considerably and by the time the next manifestation was organized in 1970, the tone and emphasis of the show was radically different from what had featured prominently in exhibitions between 1945 and 1960.

79 Ina van der Beugel, Column “Zo’n manifestatie, er is geen ontkomen aan,” Algemeen Handelsblad, October 9, 1959, “Met angst en beven heb ik kennis genomen van de Floriade, de geweldige tuin-bouwtentoonstelling, die van maart tot september in Rotterdam zal worden gehouden. Het wordt een gigantische zaak met kassen en perken en parken. Met internationale wedstrijden en inzendingen en tentoonstellingen. Het wordt formidabel en adembenemend en ik zie mij daar alweer voortsjokken over die 40 hectaren ademebenemendheid met dike voeten en een kloppend hoofd. Ieder jaar is er weer iets anders enorms tentoongesteld: soms is het de hele wereld en soms is het een ganse historische periode en soms is het de mens. Dan weer is alles van dames of alles van techniek of alles van automobielen. Van het ene formidabele sjokt men naar het andere… En dus gaan wij starks in maart 1960 met zijn allen naar de Floriade. Het wordt zonder twijfel uniek, gigantisch en formidabel.” 80 Ibid.

Chapter Four 202

Hamburg’s International Horticultural Exhibition (1963)

In 1957 the City of Hamburg confirmed it would host another international horticultural exhibition in 1963. Mayor Max Brauer and the Hamburg Senator for Food and Agriculture, Emilie

Kiep-Altenloh, officially gave the event the go-ahead in November of that year.81 In preparation, the event’s organizers travelled across Western Europe to other garden shows to be inspired and to learn. Karl Passarge, the executive committee chairman of the 1963 International Horticultural

Exhibition (Internationale Gartenbauausstellung, or IGA’63) visited multiple horticultural exhibitions, including the Deutsch-Französische Gartenschau in Saarbrücken, the Blühendes

Barock in Ludwigsburg, and the preparations for the 1961 Stuttgart Bundesgardenschau.82 There was also an IGA’63 delegation at the opening of the Rotterdam Floriade, critically reviewing the event “in order to learn from both the good performances as well as the mistakes.”83 Originally, mayor Max Brauer was supposed to attend the Floriade’s opening ceremonies, but due to a scheduling conflict this did not happen. Instead, Henry David, Georg Nowara, Karl Plomin, and

Walter Völz – all of whom had been involved in the organization of IGA’53 – attended the opening ceremonies in Rotterdam.

In the early 1960s, the economies of West Germany and Hamburg were booming. Over the course of the previous decade, the country’s economy increased its per capita output by an average of 6 per cent per year and reestablished itself as Western Europe’s preeminent economic and

81 StaHH 614-3/11_3. “Niederschrift über die 3. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am. 7 März 1958.” Brauer became mayor for a second time in 1957. In 1953 he had lost his bid for re-election to Kurt Sieveking. In the 1953 election his SPD was, with 58 seats, still the largest party. Over the course of the early 1950s, however, resistance to the mayor had steadily grown, as many deemed him too stubborn and authoritarian. After the elections of 1953, the CDU, FDP, and various smaller parties formed the so-called “Hamburg Block.” Together, these parties represented 50 per cent of the vote (and 62 seats) and they ousted Brauer. 82 StaHH 614-3/11_3. “Kurz-Niederschrift über die 16. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am July 5, 1960.” 83 StaHH 614-3/11_3. “Niederschrift (Kurzfassung) über die 14. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 22 März 1960,” 4. “Die einzelnen Vorhaben der Floriade sollen eingehend geprüft werden, um sowohl aus den guten Darbietungen wie aus den Fehlern zu lernen.”

Chapter Four 203 industrial power.84 Economic growth resulted in great improvements in living conditions, as the

“average disposable income of West Germany’s households grew by 400 per cent between 1950 and 1970.”85 The port of Hamburg had also made a remarkable recovery and was the fourth largest in Europe, just after Rotterdam, London, and Antwerp. In 1962, the Hamburgische

Schiffsmeldedienst reported 79,854 seagoing vessels on the Elbe and that year the port handled

31.2 million tons of goods.86 Unemployment in the Federal Republic, accordingly, was almost nonexistent and hovered at a mere 0.5 per cent.87 In the period since IGA’53, moreover, many West

Germans had been able start a new life that, cushioned by the material comforts of the age, allowed them, as Mary Fulbrook put it, to “forget or repress the unpleasant memories of the recent past.”88

In the same period, Adenauer and his government had worked tirelessly to reintegrate West

Germany politically. And with much success. The country became a founding member of both the

European Coal and Steel Commission (ECSC) in 1951 and the European Economic Community

(EEC) in 1957. West Germany also joined the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) in May

1955 and was allowed to rearm, with the first shipment of military supplies arriving from the

United States in January 1956.89 While West German economic resurgence and integration was welcomed by other Western European countries for the most part, West German NATO membership and rearmament brought back a lot of anxieties for the country’s small neighbours, like the Netherlands, Belgium, and Denmark, for whom the memories of war and invasion were still fresh.

84 Axel Schildt, Moderne Zeiten: Freizeit, Massenmedien und “Zeitgeist” in der Bundesrepublik der 50er Jahre (Hamburg: Christians Verlag, 1995), 43; Barry Eichengreen and Albrecht Ritschl, “Understanding West German Economic Growth in the 1950s,” SFB 649 Discussion Paper 2008-068, 2. (permalink: http://sfb649.wiwi.hu-berlin.de) 85 Mary Fulbrook, 152-153. 86 Karl Heinz Hanisch, “Der Geschichte der Internationalen Gartenbau-Ausstellung Hamburg 63 bis zur Eröffnung,” in Internationale Gartenbauausstellung Hamburg 1963 (Hamburg: Kunst + Handwerk Verlag, 1963), no page numbers. 87 Mary Fulbrook, A History of Germany 1918-2014: The Divided Nation (Chichester: John Wiley & Sons, 2015), 154. 88 Ibid., 155. 89 Frank R. Douglas, The United States, NATO, and a New Multilateral Relationship (London: Praeger, 2008), 16.

Chapter Four 204

The late 1950s and early 1960s also witnessed an intensification of the Cold War. The dual crises of Suez and the Hungarian Uprising in 1956 were followed by the Soviet launch of Sputnik the next year. Then, in August 1961, the East Germans sealed off the border with the West. With

Cold War tensions rising, NATO prepared for an all-out European war and moved towards further military integration in Europe. The Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe (SHAPE), which was responsible for NATO’s military planning, believed the coming conflict would result in

“serious damage to infrastructure, materiel, and stocks,” and wanted to ensure adequate storage facilities for tactical weapons to supply ground forces in the event of war.90 Accordingly, SHAPE pushed plans for the multinational integration of so-called supply depots under the authority of

NATO commanders.91 A series of bilateral and separate agreements followed. The West Germans, who were on the front-line of a possible war with the Soviet Union, were most concerned about supplying their own forces and wanted depots in the Netherlands and Denmark to be staffed by their own German military personnel.

The stationing of West German troops on foreign soil stirred much resentment in local populations. The possibility of having to, as one newspaper put it in 1959, abide by a “German proposal to staff the German depots in the country with German soldiers,” made the small countries anxious.92 The issue was not so much the integration of military supplies, but the permanent stationing of German troops on Dutch soil, which was equated with a new German occupation. A newspaper report from the Dutch socialist newspaper De Waarheid on the West

German negotiations with Denmark, highlighted the anxieties felt by the small neighbours. “The

90 Herman Roozenbeek, “Waste and Confusion: NATO logistics from a Dutch perspective,” in Blueprints for Battle: Planning for War in Central Europe, 1948-1968, eds. Jan Hoffenaar, Dieter Krüger, and David T. Zabecki (Lexington: Kentucky University Press, 2012), pgs. 93-107, here pg. 97. 91 Ibid., 101-102. 92 “Duitse depots in ons land? Het Vrije Volk, 21.01.1959; “DUITSE leger depots in Nederland? Algemeen Handelsblad, January 21, 1959; “Geen Duits personeel bij legerdepots in Nederland,” Leeuwarder Courant, January 22, 1959.

Chapter Four 205

Danish Social Democratic Government has broken off the negotiations with West Germany about the construction of West German military depots in Denmark,” the newspaper noted. “Adenauer,

[Defense minister] Strauss, and the Hitler-generals in Bonn have also requested that the

Netherlands approve [the construction of] German depots.”93 The newspaper then quoted a Danish labour union official from the city of Aarhus, who stated in a resolution that: “We know German militarism from the war and we have no desire to renew the acquaintance.”94 Because participation in the SHAPE program was voluntary and noncommittal, heavy push-back from local populations ensured that West German attempts at bilateral agreements to secure multinational depots in 1957 and 1960 failed.95 It was a clear indication that West Germany was still viewed with distrust and seen as an enemy, just waiting to be reawakened.

The suspicions of “the alleged instabilities of the German character” were not limited to

West Germany’s smaller neighbours. The British were concerned that West Germany could either return to Nazi-style totalitarianism, or could fall to the Soviets at any time. They had good reasons for their anxieties; they pointed to historical examples of German collaboration with the East, such as Bismarck’s Three-Emperors’ League (Dreikaiserbund, 1873), the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact

(1939) and especially the Rapallo Treaty (1922).96 British High Commissioner in Germany after the Second World War and later Permanent Under-Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, Ivone

Kirkpatrick, summed up his feelings as follows: “I have always believed that the real ‘German danger’ lies in the German traditional inclination to do a deal with the East…. The Russians could offer the Germans enormous inducements.”97 Kirkpatrick had little to fear. Isolationism was

93 “Denemarken breekt gesprek over Duitse depots af. Wat doet NEDERLAND?” De Waarheid, February 3, 1959. 94 “We kennen het Duitse militarisme uit de oorlog en hebben er geen behoefte aan de kennismaking te hernieuwen.” “Denemarken breekt gesprek over Duitse depots af. Wat doet NEDERLAND?” De Waarheid, February 3, 1959. 95 Roozenbeek, 103. 96 Spencer Mawby, “Revisiting Rapallo: Britain, Germany, and the Cold War, 1945-1955,” in Cold War Britain, 1945- 1964: New Perspectives, ed. Michael F. Hopkins, Michael D. Kandiah, and Gillian Staerck (Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2003), pgs. 81-94, here pg. 83. 97 Mawby, “Revisiting Rapallo,” 82.

Chapter Four 206 unpopular in the Bonn Republic, and integration with the West was, as Spencer Mawby put it,

“was the cornerstone of his policy, and of his popularity at home.”98

Yet, as the depiction of the West German government as “Adenauer and the Hitler- generals” made abundantly clear, West Germany had not escaped the memories of the past despite working hard to disassociate itself from its Nazi predecessor. This was compounded by the fact that the early 1960s saw the first wave of Holocaust scholarship as well as the publication and success of several memoirs that recounted first-hand experiences in the Nazi death camps. Works such as Raul Hilberg’s The Destruction of the European Jews (1961), Hannah Arendt’s Eichmann in Jerusalem (1963),and Jacques Presser’s Ashes in the Wind (1965) directly addressed the horrors of the Holocaust for the first time.99 The publication and widespread success of memoirs, such as

Primo Levi’s If This Is A Man (1959), Tadeusz Borowski’s This Way for the Gas, Ladies and

Gentlemen (1959), Elie Wiesel’s Night (1960), and Anna Langfus’ The Whole Land Brimstone

(1962), moreover, made the Nazi genocide of European Jewry personal.100 These works, combined with the internationally televised trial of Adolf Eichmann (1960-1962), and the Auschwitz Trials in Frankfurt (1963-1965), all added to the fact that Nazi atrocities were on the front pages of international news in the early-1960s, shaking West Germany’s international reputation.101

It was in the context of these international developments that IGA’63 was organized. The event was all about the reassertion of West German legitimacy on an international stage and

98 R. Gerald Hughes, Britain, Germany and the Cold War: The Search for a European Détente, 1949-1967 (New York: Routledge, 2007), 38. 99 Raul Hilberg, The Destruction of the European Jews (London: Allen, 1961); Hannah Arendt, Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil (New York: Penguin [originally in 1963], 2006); Jacques Presser, Ondergang. De vervolging en verdelging van het Nederlandse Jodendom, 1940-1945 (The Hague: Martinus Nijhof, 1965). 100 Primo Levi, If This is a Man (London: Orion Press, [originally 1959], 1960 (published in the United States as Survival in Auschwitz); Tadeusz Borowski, This Way for the Gas, Ladies and Gentlemen (New York: Penguin Books, [originally in 1959], 1992); Elie Wiesel, Night (London: MacGibbon & Kee, 1960); Anna Langfus, The Whole Land Brimstone (New York: Pantheon, 1962). 101 Philipp Gassert and Alan E. Steinweis, “Introduction,” in Coping with the Nazi Past: West German Debates on Nazism and Generation Conflict, 1955-1975, eds. Philipp Gassert and Alan E. Steinweis (New York: Berghahn Books, 2007), pgs. 1-10, here pg. 2.

Chapter Four 207 countering West Germany’s association with its Nazi predecessor. Accordingly, the organizers highlighted West German economic success and industrial ingenuity, connecting West Germany with images of productivity and industrial advancement. As S. Jonathan Wiesen has noted about

West German attempts at rehabilitating its international reputation more generally, “the country could alter the association of Germany with military aggression and brutality by promoting images of resourcefulness and industrial ingenuity, and thereby forge healthy international relations.”102

Pavilions throughout IGA’63 emphasized that West Germany was a committed ally in the Cold

War and unthreatening to Western Alliance system. It hoped, by showing off its technological inventiveness and commitment to liberal democracy and mass consumption to redirect any notion of West Germany as “the enemy” onto the Soviet Bloc.

IGA’63, much like its 1953 predecessor, was thus about rehabilitating West Germany’s international image. In terms of organization and structure, the two events were also very much alike. The main organizer of the IGA was once again the City of Hamburg in cooperation with the

Central Association of German Vegetables, Fruit, and Horticulture (Zentralverband des Deutschen

Gemüse-, Obst- und Gartenbaues e.V., or ZVG).103 Funding was approved on March 23, 1960 and again provided by the City of Hamburg.104 Structurally, the event was organized by a main organizational executive committee (Gesamtleitung), which was supported by a Hamburg Senate

Committee (Senatskommission) and a 135-member Advisory Committee (Beirat).105 The Hamburg

Senate Committee for IGA’63 was led by the mayor who, until 1960, was Max Brauer (SPD, r.

1946-1953, 1957-1960), and then Paul Nevermann (SPD, r. 1960-1965). It also included a number

102 S. Jonathan Wiesen, “Germany’s PR Man: Julius Klein and the Making of Transatlantic Memory,” in Coping with the Nazi Past: West German Debates on Nazism and Generation Conflict, 1955-1975, eds. Philipp Gassert and Alan E. Steinweis (New York: Berghahn Books, 2007), pgs. 294-308, here pg. 295. 103 FZH 361-2, Stadtebau Berichte, “Internationale Gartenbau-Ausstellung Hamburg 1963 – (IGA 63): Beiratssitzung und Pressekonferenz am 19. Okt. 1960.” 3. 104 Ibid., 4. 105 Ibid., 3.

Chapter Four 208 of Senators, including the future mayor Herbert Weichmann (SPD, r. 1965-1971).106 Karl Passarge returned as Chairman (Staatssekretär) of the Executive Committee, and he was assisted by other returning members, including the Directors of Planten un Blomen Henry David and Albert

Lubisch, head architect Bernard Hermkes, head garden-architect Karl Plomin, as well as Carl

Radicke, head of the ZVG, and Hermann Neubert, the Chairman of the National Horticultural

Association. Also returning to the organizational committee was Georg Nowara, the horticulturalist and now the Director of the North German Garden, Fruit & Vegetable Association

(Norddeutschen Garten- Obst- und Gemüsebauverbände).107 Nowara’s position at IGA’63 was that of “Foreign Minister of the IGA” (Außenminister), a role in which he was responsible for the

“planning, organization, and construction” of the IGA’s new exhibition halls.108

One of the first priorities of the organizational committee was to attract as many international visitors as possible and show them “what Hamburg was really like.” The goal was to underscore the fact that West Germans were not aggressive nor militaristic. To this end, the IGA’63 executive committee, together with the Hamburg Tourist and Congress Centre, launched a tourism campaign under the motto “Friendly and Hospitable Hamburg” (Das freundliche und Gastliche

Hamburg).109 They embarked on a citywide effort to ensure visitors felt welcome and were treated in as friendly a manner as possible. Friendliness and accessibility were the criteria by which

106 In addition to the aforemenionted, the Hamburg Senate Committee for IGA’63 included Senators Edgar Engelhard (FDP), Dr. Hans-Harder Biermann-Ratjen (FDP), Senator Rudolf Büch (SPD), and Senator Dr. Emilie Kiep-Altenloh (FDP). It also included Senate-Syndics Dr. Otto Blecke, Dr. K. Glässing, Dr. H. Mestern, and Paul Pfeiffer. FZH 361-2, Stadtebau Berichte, “Internationale Gartenbau-Ausstellung Hamburg 1963 – (IGA 63): Beiratssitzung und Pressekonferenz am 19. Okt. 1960.” 3. 107 At the time of IGA’53 he was still Special Representative of the German Vegetable, Fruit, and Horticulture Association (Zentralverbandes des Deutschen Gemüse-, Obst-, und Gartenbaues). “Zollausland am Dammtor, Hamburger Abendblatt, April 30, 1953. See also Chapter Two. 108 “Außenminister der IGA,” Hamburger Abendblatt, October 9, 1963. The organizational committee was further rounded out by members from both the city, such as Dr. Walter Völz (Regierungsdirektor), Oberbaurat Baeumer, and Hamburg Deputy Building Director Paul Seitz (Erste Baudirektor), as well as representatives from the ZVG, Rudolf Sievert, Heinz Lund, and Hans Leyding. 109 StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Kurzreferat gehalten von Albert Lubisch, Werbeberater BDW, auf der 18. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung der Internationalen Gartenbau-Ausstellung Hamburg 1963 am 6. September 1960.”

Chapter Four 209 everything was evaluated: public busses were outfitted with loudspeakers that would announce stops of interest to tourists in German as well as English; prices for products on sale in the inner city displayed multiple currencies, from Scandinavia, France, and the USA, prioritizing those countries whose citizens were most likely to visit Hamburg. In order not to appear too totalitarian or threatening, officials were given explicit directions not to give tourists tickets for minor bylaw infractions.110

To further encourage tourist visits, every effort was made to make travel to and from

Hamburg as easy and convenient as possible, and the German Federal Railways offered special discounts.111 The Hamburg transport authority (Hamburger Hochbahn AG, or HHA), the company responsible for much of the city’s public transportation network, furthermore provided a sixteen- page booklet to its employees as well as to taxi drivers that detailed how tourists should be treated.

They also considered issuing a single tourist transit ticket valid for all public transport to make travel as easy as possible.112 The HHA also put additional busses in service and created a bus-line dedicated to the IGA.113 The IGA was also the subject of large television promotions. On July 19,

1963, a show under the name “Rhapsody in Flowers” (Rhapsodie in Blumen) aired in West

Germany, as well as foreign countries, including the Netherlands. Presented by Heinz Köllisch, and filmed at the IGA’63-exhibition grounds, the program featured performances from numerous national and international artists, including Herta Conrad, Carmela Corren, Lolita, Elfie

Mayerhofer, Teddy and Henk Scholten, Will Brandes, Jimmy Markulis, Horst Wilhelm, Das

Jochen Brauer Sextett, and the ballet of the Strassbourg Opera.114 Beamed into the living rooms of millions of viewers, it explicitly associated Hamburg with leisure, culture and the beauty of the

110 Vagt, Politik durch die Blume, 207. 111 “Außerhalb Hamburgs weiß man wenig oder nichts von der IGA,” Hamburger Abendblatt, June 22, 1963. 112 Vagt, Politik durch die Blume, 207. 113 Ibid., 208. 114 “Rhapsodie in Blumen,” Limburgsch Dagblad, July 12, 1963.

Chapter Four 210

IGA exhibition grounds This image stood as the polar opposite of the aggression and militarism from which it sought to distance itself.

Like Rhapsody in Flowers, which was literally performed on a stage, IGA’63 was more generally a staging ground upon which the new, postwar West Germany was performed. This message was affirmed by the exhibition’s layout, which highlighted a spirit of friendliness and cooperation. Karl Plomin, who had originated the idea of the “Garden of Nations” at IGA’53, was once again put in charge of the overall garden design. Given his experience, was excellently suited to once again promote West Germany through the display of flowers and trees. Together with 28 garden architects from various nations, he hoped the design of the exhibition would underscore what he called “the International Idea,” namely the internationalism of the horticultural community, working together to create new species of trees, flowers, and fruits.115 Each nation was to bring their very best examples of horticulture and garden design which Plomin organized in such a way that their mutual complementarity was highlighted.116 Hamburg mayor Paul

Nevermann likewise stressed this point in the preface to the IGA-catalogue: “Many years of cooperation between the city of Hamburg and the Gardeners [Associations] of Germany have created this International Horticultural Exhibition. At IGA’63, more than thirty nations from all continents work, with gardens, trees, flowers, and fruits, to collectively increase the beauty and fertility of this earth.”117

Like the Rotterdam Floriade, Hamburg’s IGA’63 was classified as a World Horticultural

Exhibition recognized by the Bureau of International Expositions (BIE) as well as the

115 StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Niederschrift über die 17. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung (Sondersitzung – Presse-Empfang) am. July 12, 1963.” 116 “Zwitserse tuinen zonder planten op de I.A.G’63,” Limburgsch Dagblad, January 8, 1962. 117 “In jahrelanger, gemeinsamer Arbeit hat Hamburg mit den Gärtnern Deutschlands und zahlreicher Länder der Welt die Internationale Gartenbau-Ausstellung geschaffen. Mehr als dreißig Völker von allen Erdteilen bekunden auf der IGA 63 mit Gärten, Bäumen, Blumen und Früchten ihren Willen, an einer ständigen Steigerung der Schönheit und der Fruchtbarkeit unserer Erde mitzuwirken.” Ruth Hermann, “Was den Besuchern Hamburgs blüht,” Die Zeit, 26 April 1963.

Chapter Four 211

International Association of Horticultural Producers (Association Internationale des Producteurs de l’Horticulture, or AIPH).118 It was the second ever A1-classified horticultural exhibition, only after the Floriade. AIPH recognition meant that IGA’63 saw a big increase in the number of participating countries over IGA’53. In all, 30 countries contributed to IGA’63 in one form or another, including Argentina, Australia, Austria, Belgium, Brazil, Ceylon, Denmark, Finland,

France, Great Britain, Haiti, India, Israel, Italy, Japan, Canada, Lebanon, Madagascar, Malaysia,

Morocco, New Zealand, the Netherlands, Norway, Portugal, Spain, South Africa, Sweden,

Switzerland, Thailand and the United States of America.119 AIPH accreditation thus not only doubled the number of participating countries, but it also explicitly excluded participation from

East Bloc countries. 120 The international pavilions were spread out over 76 hectares of parkland, covering not only Planten un Blomen and the Wallanlagen, but also the trade fair grounds

(Messegelände) to the west, the botanical gardens, and the Heiligengeistfeld.121 Each section was connected by pedestrian bridges or tunnels allowing visitors to walk from the Dammtor Bahnhof in the north to the Millerntor in the south without interruption.122

118 StaHH 614-3/11_3, various documents. 119 Karl Heinz Hanisch, “Der Geschichte der Internationalen Gartenbau-Ausstellung Hamburg 63 bis zur Eröffnung,” in Internationale Gartenbauausstellung Hamburg 1963 (Hamburg: Kunst + Handwerk Verlag, 1963), no page numbers. 120 StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Niederschrift über die 17. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung (Sondersitzung – Presse-Empfang) am. 12.7.1960,” Back in 1953, Communist nations had also not officially participated, but their exclusion was not officially mandated by the event’s organization. 121 FZH 361-2, Stadtebau Berichte, “Internationale Gartenbau-Ausstellung Hamburg 1963 – (IGA 63): Beiratssitzung und Pressekonferenz am 19. Okt. 1960.” 3; Udo Weilacher, Visionare Garten: die modernen Landschaften von Ernst Cramer (Basel: Birkhäuser, 2001), 151. 122 StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Kurz-Niederschrift über die 18. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 6. Sept.1960.” The specific design of each of these areas was the responsibility of garden architects who reported to Plomin. In June 1958, the IGA’63 organizational committee put out a call asking for design suggestions for each of the park’s various parts. When the competition closed in November 1958, it had received 93 submissions. The following month, on December 12, 1958, Günther Schulze, an architect from Hamburg, and Heinrich Raderschall from Bad Godesberg were chosen as the winners. “The working group that resulted, consisting of Plomin, Raderschall, and Schulze, was subsequently commissioned to plan IGA’63 in its entirety.” (Udo Weilacher, Visionare Garten: die modernen Landschaften von Ernst Cramer (Basel: Birkhäuser, 2001), 151.) Schulze and Raderschall’s competition entries had predominantly reworked the Wallanlagen-areas, for which they subsequently became responsible. Plomin, meanwhile, focused his energy on resdesigning older parts of Planten un Blomen and the old botanical gardens. Together with Bernard Hermkes, he designed the now-famous Mediterranean terraces and the Johan van Valckenburgh Bridge, named for the Dutch military engineer responsible for the construction of the original Hamburg city walls.

Chapter Four 212

Since the Cold War was partly a cultural conflict, organizers at IGA’63 presented the country’s growing consumer society as evidence of West Germany’s commitment to the West, allaying concerns about German untrustworthiness or military aggression. One of the primary displays that connected IGA’63’s horticultural theme with Hamburg’s mass consumer society was

Technik im Gartenbau. Housed in white tents designed by Frei Otto, who would later be involved at Montreal Expo’67 and the Munich Olympics of 1972, it showed off the newest consumer durables. These were geared especially towards home and garden equipment given the horticultural theme. In addition to technical gardening appliances and devices, farming equipment, fertilizers and pesticides, the exhibit also showed off lawnmowers, garden tools, seeds, hoses, garden furniture, vases, workwear and books.123 Albert Lubisch, director of Planten un Blomen who had also been heavily involved in You and Your World, was the mastermind behind this exhibit. He had advocated the inclusion of consumer products, “from washing machines to refrigerators,” because he believed that these would interest non-specialists and even non- gardeners, thus increasing the mass appeal of the garden show.124 However, the exhibit presented

West Germany’s consumer abundance as clearly distinguishing itself from its Nazi predecessor.

The exhibit, located at the Heiligengeistfeld next to a massive Nazi-era bunker, was then a perfect metaphor for West Germany, where private consumption existed in the shadow of the Nazi past.125

The emphasis on West Germany’s postwar abundance and prosperity was also evident in other exhibits and was highlighted in the display of home-gardens (Hausgärten) and model homes.

Plomin had explicitly rejected the inclusion of home-gardens at IGA’53, as personal gardens would

123 StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Kurzreferat gehalten von Albert Lubisch, Werbeberater BDW, auf der 18. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung der Internationalen Gartenbau-Ausstellung Hamburg 1963 am 6. September 1960,” Anlage 3: “Ausführungen zu Punkt 7 der Tagesordnung: Technik im Gartenbau,” 1. 124 Ibid., 1-2. 125 StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Niederschrift über die 17. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung (Sondersitzung – Presse-Empfang) am. 12.7.1960,” 2. The Heiligengeistfeld area itself was reserved mostly for parking, with an estimated room for 2500 personal cars and 300 busses. The Nazi-era bunker on the site would be made to look friendlier by “greening” it, which, judging by how it looks today, presumably meant covering it with common ivy or something similar.

Chapter Four 213 have reminded people of the fact that many still lived in temporary housing. They might have also detracted from the collective narrative of resurrection after the war and the resurgence of Hamburg as a city of commerce. At IGA’63, by contrast, single-family homes and gardens were the guiding principles for many landscape designs. Pavilions in the large Wallanlagen, specifically addressed the theme of private gardens, with several houses built just to display the associated gardens.126 On the Heiligengeistfeld, the housing cooperative Neue Heimat hosted a special pavilion called “Big

City Living in the Countryside” (Großstädtisches Wohnen im Grünen).127 It promoted the suburbs as an ideal place to raise a family; green space was shown as an important counterweight to the ever more densely built-up city, with its pollution, noise, and crime. For the exhibit, Neue Heimat displayed a modern and spacious model bungalow with a large garden, supposedly indicative of the life that would soon be available to all West Germans. The bungalow was one of the most popular attractions at IGA’63. It was a model of the prefabricated homes that were being erected on the outskirts of Hamburg at that time. In fact, 722 such houses were under construction or had recently been completed on the northern and eastern edges of Hamburg, in Lohbrügge-Nord,

Großlohe-Süd, Rahlstedt, and Reinbeck.128 Over the course of the 1950s and 1960s, more and more people moved into the suburbs on the northern edge of Hamburg – even as far as the southern regions of Schleswig-Holstein – and were able to afford spacious homes with private gardens.129

Albert Vietor, the Chairman of the Board of Directors of Neue Heimat, estimated that the prices for prefabricated homes were about 10 per cent less than conventional construction.130

126 Udo Weilacher, Visionare Garten: die modernen Landschaften von Ernst Cramer (Basel: Birkhäuser, 2001), 152. 127 Vagt, Politik durch die Blume, 200. 128 “Neue Heimat zeigt ihr Musterhaus in Hamburg,” Hamburger Abendblatt, March 10, 1963. 129 Meik Woyke, “‘Wohnen im Grünen,’ Siedlungsbau und suburban Lebenstile im nördlichen Hamburg von den fünfziger bis zu den siebziger Jahren,” Zeitgeschichte Hamburg, Nachrichten aus der Forschungsstelle fur Zeitgeschichte in Hamburg 2005, eds. Frank Bajohr, Dorothee Wierling, and Claudia Kemper (Hamburg: Forschungsstelle fur Zeitgeschichte, 2006), 22-49. 130 “Neue Heimat zeigt ihr Musterhaus in Hamburg,” Hamburger Abendblatt, March 10, 1963.

Chapter Four 214

The display of the model homes was more than just a promotion for the housing cooperative. More broadly, it was a display of how the citizens of West Germany lived in the

1960s, at least theoretically. The spacious bungalow demonstrated some obvious parallels with the

Floriade’s Redwood House, which had been part of the American pavilion. The house was outfitted with the latest gadgets, testifying to West Germany’s postwar economic, cultural, and political status. As a show home, however, the bungalow provided a model of idealized domestic life in postwar West Germany and, indeed declared several key expectations of the families that were to live in these houses. As the master bedroom and children’s rooms pointed to, the model home was obviously intended for a heteronormative nuclear family with children. The model also pointed to an aspirational middle-class existence: interior was appointed with tasteful furnishings and decorations, all pointing to an affluence that provided all of the material comforts of the modern age. It communicated to the audience that one had to be in a well-paid job in order to afford these places. In the same vein – and a necessity out in the suburbs – was the assumption that the household owned at least one automobile. Finally, and this was a strong continuation with the

Bauen und Wohnen exhibit at You and Your World, the model home pointed to a life of leisure.

The kitchen, especially, was stuff with the latest labour-saving technologies to the punt where the daily chores of the household were reduced to the mere pushing of buttons. The message was clear:

German technology and ingenuity had eliminated the humdrum of day-to-day living and replaced it with a life of comfort and leisure.131

The bungalow was popular, and the model was left standing after the exhibition ended. By

April 1964 over 100,000 visitors had seen it.132 As an idealized representation of what postwar life in the Federal Republic would be – or could be – like, it served as an aspirational model. But the

131 “Bauen und Wohnen,” Hamburger Abendblatt, Special Edition, July 10, 1963. 132 “100.000 sahen das Neue-Heimat Haus in Hamburger Abendblatt, April 11, 1964.

Chapter Four 215 model home was more than a receptacle for conspicuous consumption, it testified to the ingenuity of German engineering. The home’s appliances were examples of West German consumer technology. This underscored the West German traits the organizers for IGA’63 wished to impress upon the outside world: the country as technically advanced, prosperous, and industrious.

The organizers also wished to explicitly associated Hamburg, and West Germany, with technological ingenuity. One example of this was the monorail they wished to include.133

Monorails, perhaps more so than any other mode of mass-transit, evoked the future, and the organizers eagerly envisioned the monorail’s sleek form quietly gliding over flower beds and pavilions. It was also cutting edge technology in the early 1960s. In June 1959, the first monorail in daily use, the Disneyland Alweg Monorail System, opened at Tomorrowland at Disneyland in

Anaheim, California. The construction of such an “Alweg-Bahn” was “unanimously welcomed by the IGA’63 management.”134 In December of 1959 Planten un Blomen Director Henry David was asked by the executive committee to contact the Alweg Forschung GmbH, the world’s foremost monorail technology company. Alweg was headquartered in Fühlingen, just north of Cologne along the Rhine, and so, despite the fact that its founder Axel Wenner-Gren was Swedish, monorail technology could be claimed as being quintessentially West German.135 Yet, despite several meetings between the IGA-organizers and Alweg, the plans for a monorail at IGA’63 ultimately fell through.136 By 1960, the representative for Alweg, Dr. Wachs, informed the organizational committee that the company was no longer “so interested” in building for the IGA, given their

133 StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Niederschrift (Kurzfassung) über die 12. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 17. September, 13 Uhr,” pg. 2. See also: StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Niederschrift über die 17. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung (Sondersitzung – Presse-Empfang) am. 12.7.1960;” StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Kurz-Niederschrift über die 18. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 6. Sept.1960.” Several transportation options were debated for IGA’63, including a funicular, monorail, cable-car, or expanded miniature train. 134 StaHH 614-3/11_3 “Kurzniederschrift über die 13. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 14. Dezember 1959. 13 Uhr.,” 3. 135 Ibid. 136 StaHH 614-3/11_3 “Niederschrift (Kurzfassung) über die 14. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 22. März 1960,” 4.

Chapter Four 216 work for the exhibition Italia’61 in Turin.137 Even if Alweg had remained interested, however, the cost for the construction and operation of the project, both of which would be financed by the City of Hamburg, would have been prohibitive. It was estimated to be anywhere between 2 and 2.5 million marks.138

With the monorail project off the table, the organizational committee turned to the question of how to transport people around the 76 hectare exhibition quickly and efficiently. There was an existing park-ride, the Planten un Blomen Express, left standing after IGA’53. The route, which looped the northern section of the park, was about 1.5 kilometers in length, travelled counter- clockwise, and took 15 minutes.139 This was now deemed insufficient, not least because the train did not extend into the Wallanlagen or Heiligengeistfeld areas. Alternative transportation options were considered, such as cable cars, as well as so-called “railless car trains,” proposed by the Henry

Escher Firm from Dortmund.140 Both had problems. The ground-level construction of the park train would interrupt foot traffic, while pillars required for the gondola were deemed an eyesore for an exhibition focused on the aesthetic qualities of gardening.141 Opposition argued that no

137 StaHH 614-3/11_3 “Kurz-Niederschrift über die 16. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 5.7.1960, 13 Uhr,” 3. Although not mentioned as a reason, Alweg also constructed a monorail for the 1962 Seattle World’s Fair. Italia’61, which celebrated the 100th anniversary of the founding of the state of Italy, saw the construction of a 1.2-kilometer-long Alweg monorail in Turin. For more on Italia’61, see Sergio Pace, Critiana Chiorino, and Michela Rosso, Italia’61, the Nation on Show: The Personalities and Legends Heralding the Centenary of the Unification of Italty (Turn: Umberto Allemandi & Co., 2006); Emilio Gentile, La Granda Italia: The Myth of the Nation in the Twentieth Century (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2009), pgs. 338-350. 138 StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Kurz-Niederschrift über die 16. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 5.7.1960, 13 Uhr,” 3. 139 Dirk Oetzmann, Die Hamburger Schmalspurbahnen: IGA- und Parkbahnen, Ottensener und Wandsbeker Industriebahnen, Trümmerbahnen, Feldbahnen und andere (Hamburg: Verein Verkehrsamateure und Museumbahn, 2010), 4. 140 StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Kurz-Niederschrift über die 15. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 19.5.1960,” 3; StaHH 614- 3/11_3, “Niederschrift über die 17. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung (Sondersitzung – Presse-Empfang) am. 12.7.1960.” 141 When asked, Passarge rejected the notion that the pillars for a gondola would be an eye-sore, stating that the pillars at the Saarbrücken exhibit were not very noticeable (“In Saarbrücken fielen diese Pfeiler gar nicht auf.”). (StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Niederschrift über die 17. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung (Sondersitzung – Presse-Empfang) am. 12.7.1960.”) Councillor Sievert promoted the other option, declaring that miniature trains would be the most practical and blend in the natural landscape more so than a gondola. (StaHH 614-3/11_3,“Kurz-Niederschrift über die 18. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 6. Sept.1960.”)

Chapter Four 217 transportation should be included: visitors should walk through the exhibition in peace and quiet and not be rushed with rapid transport.142

The End of the Postwar?

IGA’63 was organized three years after the Floriade, and this was evident in some aspects of the exhibition. Parts of IGA’63 were already more critical of the postwar narrative that had been upheld throughout the 1950s. This was most obvious in how the IGA engaged with the natural environment and especially environmental degradation. As the Netherlands’ and West Germany’s economies roared, the environmental cost of prosperity became increasingly clear. As Sandra

Chaney has pointed out, “beginning in the 1950s, industrialized nations around the world experienced an accelerated increase in gross domestic product, energy consumption, land use, trash accumulation, and pollution of water, soil, and air.”143 In the 1960s, Chaney adds, “West German conservationists warned that 260 square kilometers of countryside [would be] lost annually to support the expansion of industry, housing, transportation, and the military.”144 The organizers of the Floriade had not treated environmental degradation and pollution as a downside of growth and prosperity, but as a challenge. It was an obstacle that could be overcome with the appropriate technology, and perhaps even nuclear science. IGA’63, however, was held three years later. By that time, awareness of environmental degradation was growing. Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring, a pioneering work that highlighted the environmental results of unbridled industrialization and progress, was published in 1962. The German translation, Der stumme Frühling, appeared the

142 “Die Besucher sollten die Ausstellung in Ruhe und Besinnlichkeit durchwandern und nicht mit schnellen Verkehrsmitteln durch die Ausstellung gehetzt werden.” StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Kurz-Niederschrift über die 18. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 6.Sept.1960.” 143 Sandra Chaney, Nature of the Miracle Years: Conservation in West Germany, 1945-1975 (New York: Berghahn Books, 2008), 4. 144 Ibid.

Chapter Four 218 following year and was a huge success in West Germany, stirring up concerns about the environmental costs of the postwar economic miracle.145

IGA’63 reflected the growing awareness of environmental degradation and featured an entire pavilion dedicated to environmental protection and the impact of the economy on nature.146

It was focused primarily on the Green Charter of Mainau (Grüne Charta von der Mainau). Created in 1961, the charter had been drafted in response to rapid environmental degradation in the Bonn

Republic and stated that “the basic foundations of our life have fallen into danger because vital elements of nature are being dirtied, poisoned and destroyed.”147 Accordingly, the signatories to the Green Charter vowed to take nature into consideration on all levels of planning and to build a new relationship with the environment at the start of a new decade.148

One of the main organizers behind the charter was Count Lennart Bernadotte, President of the German Horticultural Society. Bernadotte also served on the Advisory Council for IGA’63 and, by virtue of his status and position, exerted considerable influence.149 It was Bernadotte who was instrumental in getting a pavilion dedicated to the charter at the IGA. Hort Hammler, writing on behalf of the Count, wrote Rudolf Sievert of the IGA executive committee in 1962, requesting that the exhibition dedicate some attention to the charter to bring awareness of it to the public.150

Hammler, on behalf of the count, furthermore requested that a small display dedicated to the charter be set up in the foyer of meeting rooms in Hamburg throughout the year. In this way,

145 “Schädlingsbekämpfung. Schweigen im Walde,” Der Spiegel, No.14 (November 1962), 118-122. 146 Rachel Carson, Silent Spring (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1962), “Schädlingsbekämpfung. Schweigen im Walde,” Der Spiegel, No.14 (November 1962), 118-122. 147 Chaney, Nature of the Miracle Years, 133. 148 Sebastian Strube, Euer Dorf soll schöner werden: Ländlicher Wandel, staatliche Planung und Demokratisierung der Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2013), 37-40. 149 StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Kurz-Protokoll über die 32. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 4. 10. 1961,” 6. 150 StaHH 614-3/11_45, Letter from Horst Hammler of the Deutsche Gartenbau Gesellschaft to Rudolf Sievert, March 29, 1962.

Chapter Four 219 professionals – such as the physicians, lawyers, municipal experts, the letter referred to – will learn about “the healing effect of greenery for the different areas of life.”151

The Count’s influence worked, and IGA’63 featured a pavilion dedicated to the charter near the main entrance to Planten un Blomen.152 Called the “Green Carousel” (Grünes Karussel), the pavilion was designed and built by Kurt Kranz, Professor at the Hamburg Academy for Fine

Arts (Hochschule für bildende Künste Hamburg, or HfbK), together with a group of students.153 It was a nice parallel to IGA’53, where Kranz, again with students, had been responsible for the

Hamburg Pavilion.154 The carousel slowly rotated to show visitors photos, maps, and headlines assembled by “a group of independent architects, doctors, biologists, geologists, landscapers, water managers and industrialists,” which explained the Charter of Mainau in great detail.155 “No kid stuff,” the Hamburger Abendblatt alerted, “[the carousel] focuses on problems top scientists from around the world wreck their brains over.”156

The charter, and more general emphasis on the importance of livability prefigures important changes in how recovery and reconstruction were conceived of in Hamburg.

Increasingly, livability, rather than economic progress, became a critical criterion by which success was measured. The IGA’s focus on horticulture also signaled a return to normalcy of sorts for

Hamburg’s citizens. Pre-war Hamburg had been quite green. As Erich Lüth, press secretary for the

City of Hamburg, recalled after the war: “Hamburg was literally a wealth of trees.”157 During the war, some 100,000 trees were destroyed in the air-raids, and another 70,000 were felled in the

151 StaHH 614-3/11_45, Letter from Horst Hammler of the Deutsche Gartenbau Gesellschaft to Rudolf Sievert, March 29, 1962. 152 Vagt, Politik durch die Blume, 203. 153 “Grünes Karussell mahnt alle Menschen,” Hamburger Abendblatt, May 9, 1963. 154 Vagt, Politik durch die Blume, 203. For more on the Hamburg Pavilion, see Chapter Two in this dissertation. 155 “Grünes Karussell mahnt alle Menschen,” Hamburger Abendblatt, May 9, 1963. 156 “Kein kinderkram! Es dreht sich um Probleme, Ober die sich heute Wissenschaftler aller Forschungsgebiete der Kopf zubrechen.” “Grünes Karussell mahnt alle Menschen,” Hamburger Abendblatt, May 9, 1963. 157 Erich Lüth, Drei Jahre Arbeit für den Wiederaufbau der Freien und Hansestadt Hamburg: Nach Amtlichen Behördenberichten im Auftrage des Senats Zusammengestellt und Bearbeitet von Erich Lüth (Hamburg: Hans Christians Druckerei und Verlag, 1950), 115.

Chapter Four 220 immediate postwar years to provide much needed fuel during the winter of 1946-1947. After 1947, remedial planting schemes started, and by 1950 the number of trees in Hamburg had risen to

50,000, including 19,000 young trees.158 The reemerging of trees and greenery in the city, and the display of horticulture of all kinds at both IGA’53 and IGA’63, was a clear signal to the people of

Hamburg that the dark war days were finally over.

President of the Federal Republic, Heinrich Lübke, reflected similar concerns when he stated at the opening of IGA’63 that “natural alienation” (Naturentfremdung) and “environmental destruction” (Umweltzerstörung) were the problems of the contemporary era.159 It was also reflected in mission statement,w hich stated that IGA’63 sought to display “international representation of the importance of horticulture in all economic and cultural fields,” but also that it wanted to demonstrate “greenery as a healing factor for the one-sided development of urban dwellings.”160 The first part’s reference to “economic and cultural fields” alluded to the IGA being a display of the economic and cultural superiority of Hamburg (and West Germany’s) systems.

The second part, however, stated that horticulture could be used as an anti-dote for the one-sided

“nature” of the urban climate. That statement referred to the environmental degradation caused by the German economic miracle and Hamburg’s one-sided focus on economic and industrial development neglected certain aspects crucial to the quality of urban life.

The concern for livability was also seen in the push-back against plans for the construction of a massive observation tower in Hamburg. Observation towers were almost an expectation of horticultural exhibitions as they, along with gondolas, were included at almost every postwar

158 Ibid., 116. 159 Vagt, Politik durch die Blume, 186. 160 FZH 361-2, Stadtebau Berichte, “Internationale Gartenbau-Ausstellung Hamburg 1963 – (IGA 63): Beiratssitzung und Pressekonferenz am 19. Okt. 1960.” 1. “Internationale Darstellung der Bedeutung des Gartenbaues aller Sparten in wirtschaftlicher und kultureller Beziehung. Grün als Heilfaktor für den einseitig beanspruchten Großstadtmenschen vom Städtebau bis zum Kleingarten dargestellt.”

Chapter Four 221 garden show.161 The motivations for construction were the same as at the Floriade. A tower would be a monument of the exhibition itself, marking the landscape long after the show concluded, but it would also be an immediate attraction for visitors in an age where leisure and entertainment were increasingly readily available. The weekly newspaper Die Zeit reported in June of 1961 that the initial idea for the construction of an observation tower for IGA’63 was to build something symbolic to commemorate the exhibition, and recalled as an example the Eifel Tower.162 A tower also allowed people to view the exhibition grounds clearly and be a tremendous draw for visitors.

Crucially, however, the tower would provide panoramic views of the Elbe River and the busy

Hamburg port area. The dynamism and size of the port would continue to impress upon people

Hamburg’s status as a world port and underscore the message of Hamburg (and by extension West

Germany) as an economic powerhouse that exerted all its energy to trade and commerce, not war and militarism. While exhibitions would be temporary, this tower would be a permanent marker of Hamburg’s commitment to trade and capitalism. Hamburg’s finance minister (and future mayor)

Herbert Weichmann endorsed the plans for the tower for precisely this reason. Hamburg, he said, needed an attraction to turn it from “a big city” into a “world city.”163 As such, the tower was symbolic of Hamburg’s international aspirations and status as a modern metropolis and global port.164

161 Aside from IGA’53 and the Floriade, chronicled in this dissertation, see, for example, the 1964 Vienna Garden Show (WIG’64). “Die WIG eröffnet – 25.000 am ersten Tag. Dr. Schärf: ,,Paradies in der Nußschale.” Arbeiter Zeitung, April 17, 1964. 162 Ruth Herrmann, “Der Turmbau von Hamburg: Wird ein ‘Monument der Freßlust Wahrzeichen der Hansestadt?” Die Zeit, June 16, 1961. 163 Ibid. 164 The first drafts for the tower were presented to the public in March 1961 by mayor Paul Nevermann and Hamburg’s First Building Director, Paul Seitz. Seitz had been called to Hamburg by Werner Hebebrand, the city’s Chief Building Director (Oberbaudirektor) from 1952 until 1964, in 1953. Seitz subsequently served as Hebebrand’s deputy, First Building Director (Erster Baudirektor) from 1953 to 1963, after which he left his position for a job at the Technischen Universität Berlin. Seitz’ first plans called for an observation tower with a revolving restaurant that would breath- taking views of the city. The tower’s height, though, was not made clear. Die Zeit reported that the tower would reach 145 meters in height, while newspaper clippings from the FZH (presumably from newspaer Die Welt) reported a height of 160 meters. Minutes from IGA’63 executive committee meetings, however, state that the tower’s restaurant would be at a height of 110 metres from the base, with an antenna adding another forty to seventy meters on trop of

Chapter Four 222

The project was a non-starter, however. According to a survey, about half of Hamburg’s residents did not believe that the city needed the tower. While the tower was expensive, cost was not the main reason for the public’s rejection. The main objections were spiritual and artistic in nature. Seitz’s plan, which he himself described as unfinished, was not beautiful enough according to some critics. “What was the purpose?” they asked, “why should the tallest building in our city be a monument to gluttony (Monument der Freßlust)?”165 They argued that the tower and the restaurant were profane and diminished the natural beauty of the Alster and the Elbe rivers. Critics, moreover, thought that the height of the tower would not be in keeping with Hamburg’s skyline and that a restaurant should under no circumstance be taller than a church.166 In fact, local opposition was concerned that the tower would dominate the St. Michael’s Church (Hauptkirche

Sankt Michaelis). The Michel, as the Church was colloquially known, was a symbol of the city of

Hamburg, and residents wanted to prevent any other structure from outshining it. Hamburg’s highest secular building at that point was the police headquarters at Berliner Tor, which was almost

50 meters shorter than the church tower. The proposed TV and observation tower, on the other hand, would be up to twice the height of the Michel.167 Ultimately, local resistance was successful

that. Other internal documentation reveals that a tower as high as 290 meters was planned.164 The tower’s cost was projected to be around seven million Deutsche marks. The construction of the tower would initially be financed by the City of Hamburg through a city loan given to Planten un Blomen. Planten un Blomen, in turn, would lease the restaurant to a private company to pay back the loan. The Senate approved the proposals and they were sent on to the Burgerschaft for further deliberation. Neither the SPD nor the CDU objected to the construction of the tower. The only party that was solidly against it was the liberal FDP. See: StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Kurz-Niederschrift über die 16. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 5.7.1960;” StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Niederschrift über die 4. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 21. März 1958,” pg 5; Gottfried Seile, “Ungesättigt gleich der Flamme: Cézanne, Gaugin, van Gogh, und Seurat im Hamburger Kunstverein,” Die Zeit, May 10, 1963; Ruth Herrmann, “Der Turmbau von Hamburg: Wird ein ‘Monument der Freßlust Wahrzeichen der Hansestadt?” Die Zeit, June 16, 1961; FZH 361-2, Stadtebau Berichte, “Aussicht von ‘Turm’, [unmarked by archivist, probably from Die Welt], May 20, 1961. 165 Ruth Herrmann, “Der Turmbau von Hamburg: Wird ein ‘Monument der Freßlust Wahrzeichen der Hansestadt?” Die Zeit, 16 Juni, 1961. 166 FZH Archiv, #361-2 Stadtebau Berichte “Aussicht von ‘Turm’, Die Welt (?), 20-5-61 167 Ruth Herrmann, “Der Turmbau von Hamburg: Wird ein ‘Monument der Freßlust Wahrzeichen der Hansestadt?” Die Zeit, 16 Juni, 1961.

Chapter Four 223 and no new observation tower of any kind was built. Instead, visitors at IGA’63 used the Philips

Turm, which had been constructed for IGA’53 a decade prior.

The rejection of the tower’s construction is significant, because it signaled one of the first pushbacks against plans for unbridled modernization and the relentless pursuit of economic growth and prosperity. Citizens of Hamburg were not interested in a monument dedicated to capitalism and consumption, and were especially concerned of such a tower outshining buildings that were of clear symbolic significance to them. The resistance to what they called “a monument of gluttony,” could be read as one of the first signs of resistance against the materialist culture that had been so pervasive in the 1950s and had indeed been at the core of West Germany’s remaking after the war. While another tower –the 279.2-metre-tall Heinrich Hertz Turm– was eventually constructed in 1968, the local resistance offered in the lead-up to IGA’63 was nevertheless an indication of things to come. The reasons offered for the rejection of the tower were very similar to the critiques levelled against the Adenauer regime in the mid 1960s: that it had been too focused on materialism and had forgotten about spiritual needs. Over the course of the 1960s, this resistance became stronger and louder, as a new generation rebelled against a culture that they deemed to be excessively materialistic and claimed was responsible for actively ignoring West

Germany’s national socialist past.168

These changes were likewise reflected in the critiques levelled against IGA’63. The press criticized the increasing commercialization of the event, deeming it a “costly show of superlatives.”169 Likewise, the participation of over 35 countries this time around was depicted by the press as “bloated” and “oversized.”170 It seems that in its attempts to shore up its own position

168 Gassert and Steinweis, “Introduction,” 1. 169 Kristina Vagt, “Zwischen Systemkonkurrenz und Freizeitvergnügen. Die iga 1961 im deutsch-deutschen Kontext” in Blumenstadt Erfurt: Waid – Gartenbau – iga/egapark, eds. Martin Baumann and Steffen Raßloff (Erfurt: Sutton Verlag, 2011), 344. 170 Vagt, “Zwischen Systemkonkurrenz und Freizeitvergnügen,” 344.

Chapter Four 224 and overcompensating as an anti-Communist power to downplay its Nazi past led Hamburg’s IGA down a path of commercialization and an overabundant concern for superlatives. In 1965, when

Die Zeit first reported on IGA’s successor for 1973, it warned of the same problems: “Unhappy with IGA’63, Hamburg will host another international garden show at the same location. This year already indicated that there will be a strong policy of municipal attractiveness and the exhibition will be advertising for projects of urban planning.”171 Despite the best efforts of the organizing committee, visitor numbers remained well behind the 8 to 10 million expected.172 The final ticket sales for the event were around 5.4 million, of which 2.2 million had bought a one-entry ticket and only 69,000 had bought a season pass. While pass holders were estimated to have visited about forty times on average over the course of the exhibitions 171-day run, visitor numbers were still about 40-50 per cent below expectations.173 The promotion of the IGA, the attention paid to tourists, and the emphasis on entertainment was all in vain. Horticultural experts raved about the show, but the common man remained absent. About halfway through the IGA’s run in June 1963, the

Hamburg Abendblatt surveyed people across Western Europe to see if the IGA enjoyed any name recognition whatsoever. The results were damning. With very few exceptions, neither travel agencies nor the general public in the areas surveyed in Paris, the Hague, London, Copenhagen, and Vienna knew about the IGA, according to the survey reports. Inside West Germany, the situation was only marginally better: advertising for the event in Hannover was good and there were many posters promoting the IGA in Stuttgart. Travel agencies in Essen, Münster, Düsseldorf, and Cologne also reported increased inquiries on travel to Hamburg. However, this success was not a uniform experience for all West German cities. Travel agencies in Kiel found very weak

171 “Blumen für die Stadt: Bundegartenschau: Essen schließt zufrieden, Frankfurt a.M. hat kein Geld, Hamburg rechnet noch,” Die Zeit, 15 October, 1965. 172 Vagt, Politik durch die Blume, 189; “1960 wurde von acht Millionen gesprochen, in: Mit kleinen Abstrichten. Ausschuß zu den Gartenschau-Plänen / Grundkonzeption bleibt, in Hamburger Abendblatt, March 16, 1960. 173 Vagt, Politik durch die Blume, 210.

Chapter Four 225 interest. There was no promotion whatsoever in Munich, and 80 per cent of correspondents in

Frankfurt did not know what the IGA was, never mind having an interest in visiting.174

The early 1960s were a glorious age of abundance, prosperity, peace, and stability. The exhibitions were successful and the political elites in charge of both cities were stable. This was in part because they had delivered what they had promised; stable society, prosperity, job security, and a generous social welfare system. However, there were also early indications of changing priorities, most prominently with the Charter of Mainau display and the resistance against the construction of a large observation tower. Ideas that had hitherto been taken for granted were increasingly being resisted. This trend only grew stronger as the 1960s progressed, as will be explored in Chapter Five.

174 “Außerhalb Hamburgs weiß man wenig oder nichts von der IGA,” Hamburger Abendblatt, June 22, 1963.

Chapter Five 226

Chapter 5: The End of the Postwar Era: Reinterpreting Recovery

By the late 1960s the postwar period came to an end. In the preceding two decades, civic and business elites across Western Europe had ushered in a world with a new political economy, a new political culture, and a dynamic mass consumer society with wide-spread prosperity. The success was all the more impressive considering how far Western European countries had come.

A poll conducted in The Netherlands 1951 by sociologist Ivan Gadourek revealed that when asked about future expectations, “more than twice as many people expected a worse instead of a better future (respectively 44.8 and 19.1 per cent),” and 60.6 per cent expected another war.1 Over one quarter of respondents, moreover felt powerless to change this situation and expected that “nothing

[could] be improved or changed by the government in their community,” while “still fewer perceive[d] a possibility for improvement through non-governmental channels.”2 Their anxieties proved to be unfounded: the next two decades were amongst the most stable and prosperous in

Europe’s recorded history. Under the guidance of the new welfare states, societies were peaceful and steady, and people were provided with jobs, shelter, and food on the table. The citizens of

Western Europe’s benevolent postwar states had never had it so good.

Then came the tumultuous 1960s, when many seemed to reject the very structures that had delivered the prosperity and stability of preceding decades. The causes for these transformations have often been attributed to generational change. Indeed, it was as though, as Kees Schuyt and

Ed Taverne observed, “a young generation, stimulated by prosperity, came in like a tornado to

1 Ivan Gadourek, A Dutch Community: Social and Cultural Structure and Process in a Bulb-Growing Region in the Netherlands (Leiden: H.E. Stenfert Kroese N.V., 1956), 252-253. 2 Ibid., 253.

Chapter Five 227 reorder society, after which everything suddenly changed.”3 Generational change, while important, however, was secondary to the fact that postwar prosperity itself had changed the tastes, goals, and desires of postwar Dutch and West Germans. The emphasis on efficiency, productivity, and rationality in the name of the creation of wealth, jobs, and stability seemingly held less meaning for this generation. Sociologist Ernest Zahn has pointed out that increased prosperity and access to new products was connected to lifestyle changes and changing goals, values, and priorities.4 As wealth increased, priorities shifted. Prosperous citizens took for granted things like peace, stability, a job, and plenty of food and instead wanted other things: more leisure time, more experiences, and a better work-life balance.5 They wanted more social and political freedoms, a more egalitarian society, more leisure and entertainment, and generally they became more concerned with “quality of life” now that the “basics” seemed to be taken care of. Indeed, the citizen of 1950 was not the same as the citizen of 1970.

It could be argued, then, that recovery fell victim to its own success. Elites had delivered exactly what they had promised and people now made new demands. In Chapter Four we saw how in the early 1960s citizens became increasingly aware of the downsides of unbridled economic growth and modernization, especially as it pertained to the environment. While the environment continued to be a major concern from the 1960s onward, in this chapter we will turn our attention to another main source of critique against the years of postwar recovery: the city itself. As Tony

Judt has argued, “in the physical history of the European city, the 1950s and 1960s were truly terrible decades.”6 In the pursuit of efficiency and prosperity, cities had been rebuilt as economic

3 Kees Schuyt and Ed Taverne, Dutch Culture from a European Perspective, Volume 4: 1950, Prosperity and Welfare (New York: Palgrave-Macmillan, 2004), 366. 4 Ernest Zahn, Soziologie der Prosperität: Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft im Zeichen des Wohlstandes (Munich: Deutscher Taschenbuch Verlag, 1964). See also: George Katona, The Mass Consumption Society (London: McGraw- Hill, 1964). 5 Schuyt and Taverne, Dutch Culture from a European Perspective, 351. 6 Judt, Postwar, 388.

Chapter Five 228 infrastructures first and foremost. They had become architectural expressions of economic functionalism, rather than livability. As Judt emphasized, “It is one of the great ironies of the 1960s that the ruthlessly renewed and rebuilt cityscapes of the age were deeply resented above all by young people who lived there. Their … environment… was experienced as ugly, soulless, stifling, inhuman, and – in a term that was acquiring currency – alienating.”7

They were not the only ones who felt this way. The 1960s saw a wave of academic publications that were highly critical of the way in which cities had developed in the aftermath of the war. Works such as Hans-Paul Bahrdt’s The Modern Metropolis (Die Moderne Großstadt,

1961), Jane Jacobs’ well-known The Death and Life of Great American Cities (1961), Wolf Jobst

Siedler’s The Murdered City (Die gemordete Stadt, 1964), Heide Berndt’s The Social Image of

City Plans (Das Gesellschaftsbild bei Stadtplanern, 1965), Alexander Mitscherlich’s The

Unworkability of our Cities (Unwirtlichkeit Unserer Städte, 1965) and Martin Neuffer, Cities for

All (Städte für Alle, 1970), all criticized the functionalist ideas that had guided planners of the

1950s and derided their designs as cold, hostile, and unfriendly. They argued that urban development along highly modern lines – guided by principles of architectural functionalism – had made for a lifeless, sterile, and isolating living environment. As Jeffry Diefendorf put it, “everyone failed to appreciate the positive contributions of nineteenth-century architecture to urban life. The variety of facades and the sheer eclecticism of that period added a great deal of visual richness to city streets.”8 Indeed, this was at the heart of Siedler’s critique of the postwar city (in this case

West Berlin), when he claimed that postwar recovery had not taken the city’s history into consideration, and had created an urban environment that was “anonymous and faceless.”9 Siedler

7 Ibid., 389. 8 Jeffry Diefendorf, In the Wake of War: The Reconstrucion of German Cities after the Second World War (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), 278. 9 Wolf Jobst Siedler and Elisabeth Niggemeyer, Die gemordete Stadt: Abgesang auf Putte and Strasse, Platz und Baum (Berlin: Herbig, 1964), 9.

Chapter Five 229 thus called for a reconsideration of the functionalist values that had guided postwar reconstruction; he insisted that the “human-scale” be taken into consideration and that city planning be more pedestrian friendly, to have more mixed-use developments, and show greater variety in housing type and density.

The critique of the postwar city was especially strong in places such as Rotterdam that had undergone a drastically modernist reconstruction in the aftermath of the war. In the 1950s and

1960s the city had prided itself on the reinvention of its downtown core as a manifestation of the

Netherlands’ postwar modernity as expressed through mobility, functionality, and uniformity. By the middle of the 1960s, however, this narrative was coming undone. Rather than a focus on the industrial productivity and collective efficiency of the modern city’s wide boulevards and impressive traffic arteries, citizens now requested the city be more livable and were focus on individual quality of life. There was, in other words, a shift from an emphasis on structure to a narrative foregrounding experience. As W.G. Werkman wrote in the magazine Bouw in 1965:

Foreign urbanists have been enthusiastic about the way in which Rotterdam is rebuilding and taking shape. They will not stop talking about it. Rotterdammers over forty –those who have experienced the prewar city– are more skeptical about their new city[,] although they cannot accurately explain why they are not so fond of what they got in place of what they lost twenty-five years ago.10

And this was the problem. In theory Rotterdam’s development was great: from a functional point of view there was very little that could be improved. On the ground, though, the average

Rotterdammer was not all that happy to actually live in this highly modern and rational environment that had been designed for economic efficiency. As Werkman expressed in the same magazine five years later, “people are [now] becoming aware that there is something wrong with their city, that some things should have been done differently, and that some things are missing.”11

10 GAR 646_2 (Box 105), W.G. Werkman, “Rotterdam’s herbouw onder de loep,” Bouw, Year 208, No. 20, May 15, 1965, pgs. 38-43, here pg. 38. 11 G. Werkman, “Spiegel van de Week,” Bouw: Centraal Weekblad voor het Bouwwezen in Nederland en België, Vol.26, No. 16, (May 15, 1971), 769.

Chapter Five 230

In Hamburg, as in other West German cities, errors were also made. Although Hamburg had not been radically redesigned in the same way as Rotterdam (see Chapter One), its urban form was still a subject of critique in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Hamburg’s inner city had fallen victim to the construction of large traffic arteries that cut through it from all directions.12 Indicative of the changing attitudes, Hamburg mayor Herbert Weichmann bemoaned these developments, stating in his opening speech to a retrospective reconstruction exhibition in 1966, that “the Charter of Athens, the idea of neighbourhood development, the idea of de-densification and decentralization, undisputed yesterday, now seem contentious.”13 He questioned the validity and desirability of functionalist development, and his speech reflected some of the concerns delivered by Siedler, Jacobs, and others. It was clear that the priorities espoused in earlier times were rapidly changing.

This chapter looks at exhibitions organized in Rotterdam and Hamburg in the mid 1960s and early 1970s. In 1965 and 1966, elites in both cities self-consciously drew a line under the period of postwar recovery when they organized retrospective exhibitions. Rotterdam, City in

Motion in 1965 and Hamburg Builds in 1966, indicated that the old days were gone and that urban planning and construction would henceforth be guided by new ways of thinking. In the early 1970s, both Rotterdam’s and Hamburg’s exhibitions – Communication’70 (Communicatie’70, or C70) in

1970 and the International Horticultural Exhibition (Internationale Gartenbauausstellung) of

1973 (IGA’73) –clearly reflected these changes. Both events differed from their predecessors,

12 See Michael Wawoczny, Der Schnitt durch die Stadt, Planungs- und Baugeschichte der Hamburger Ost-West Straße von 1911 bis heute (Hamburg: Dölling und Galitz, 1996). 13 StaHH 321-3 I_1270, “Ansprache von Bürgermeister Prof. Dr. Weichmann zur Eröffnung der Ausstellung “Hamburg Baut 1945-1965” im Fußgängertunnel Hauptbahnhof/Mönckebergstraße am Dienstag, 25. Januar 1966, 10.00 Uhr,” 4. “Der Charta von Athen, die Idee der Nachbarschaftssiedlung, der Gedanke der Entdichtung und Entballung der großstädtischen Lebenform mögen gestern noch unbestritten und heute lebhaft umstritten sein.” The Charter of Athens was a document drafted by Swiss architect Le Corbusier that outlined the main ideas of the “Functional City.” Ideas in the Charter exerted a heavy influence on postwar urban reconstruction in the Netherlands and West Germany. For more on this, see the excellent work of Eric Mumford. Eric Mumford: The CIAM Discourse on Urbanism,1928-1960 (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2000); and Defining Urban Design: CIAM Architects and the Formation of a Discipline, 1937-69 (Yale University Press, 2009).

Chapter Five 231

Floriade and IGA’63, in terms of space, and in terms of their planners’ conception. They differed in what they presented, and in how they did so. These changes were not the product of economic downturn or recession, however, as both C70 and IGA’73 came before the oil crisis of 1973.14 In fact, during the organizational stages of both events the economy continued to grow at an impressive rate. Over the course of the 1960s the Dutch economy expanded by an average of 3.5 per cent each year.15 Real income also rose at 3.5 per cent annually between 1960 and 1970. This represented only a small decrease from the 3.7 per cent annual growth the country had experienced between 1950 and 1960.16 The West German economy, except for a small dip in 1966, likewise continued to post remarkable numbers. Unemployment stood at less than 1 per cent, and it was not until after the 1973 oil crisis that West German growth slowed to an average of 2 per cent annually.17 C70 and IGA’73’s changing priorities were thus the result of mass prosperity and the new priorities this wrought: organized near the end of the postwar economic boom, and at a time when their citizens were accustomed to prosperity and made new demands of their social, cultural, political, and urban environments.

Retrospective Exhibitions: Rotterdam, City in Motion (1965) & Hamburg Builds (1966)

In Rotterdam and Hamburg, the period of active postwar reconstruction came to an end in the mid 1960s and elites in both cities organized retrospective exhibitions: Rotterdam, City in

Motion (Rotterdam, Stad in Beweging) in 1965, and Hamburg Builds (Hamburg Baut) in 1966.

14 The Yom Kippur War started on October 6, 1973 and IGA’73 ended on October 7. On October 12, Richard Nixon announced Operation Nickel Grass, and on October 16, 1973, OPEC nations raised oil prices by 70 per cent, starting the 1973 oil crisis. 15 Emphasis in original. Judt, Postwar, 325. 16 Schuyt & Taverne, Welvaart in Zwart-Wit, 272. 17 Barry Eichengreen and Albrecht Ritschl, “Understanding West German Economic Growth in the 1950s,” SFB 649 Discussion Paper 2008-068, pg. 2. (permalink: http://sfb649.wiwi.hu-berlin.de ); David Reynolds, One World Divisible: A Global History Since 1945 (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2000), 418; Hans Joachim Braun, The German Economy in the Twentieth Century: The German Reich and the Federal Republic (New York: Routledge, 1990), 118.

Chapter Five 232

Although both were retrospectives, they differed from each other in several crucial ways. City in

Motion was a celebratory look back on twenty years of Rotterdam’s recovery, designed to remind people of how far the city had come since the war. Even in the face of mounting criticism of the city’s urban shape, the event upheld the old narratives of success and uncritically dealt with the city’s development. It stressed the economic qualities that drove reconstruction and the impressive statistics and figures associated with it. Considered out of touch, ridiculed by the press, and poorly attended, the event was a failure. Hamburg Builds, on the other hand, left more room for critical engagement with contemporary urban developments. Mayor Weichmann, moreover, spoke critically about certain aspects of Hamburg’s postwar development, stating things would change in the future. In stark contrast with Rotterdam, Hamburg Builds was much more successful and well-attended.

Organized in 1965, Rotterdam, City in Motion was technically the fourth installment of the large celebratory manifestations that they city had hosted every five years: Ahoy’ (1950), E55

(1955), and the Floriade (1960). This time around, however, things were different from the start.

Unlike the massive exhibitions of the past, the municipalities and private companies had made little money available for the City in Motion exhibition. This meant that the event was organized on a much smaller scale than its predecessors.18 The exhibition grounds, accordingly, were limited to the downtown office building Construction Centre (Bouwcentrum), De Doelen Conference

Centre, and the subway station “Stadhuis,” with the latter two still under construction.19 Waning interest and the small-scale of the organization were indicative of the changing times. City in

18 GAR 646_1 (Box 104), “Dertig jaar Rotterdamsche historie. Sobere Opbouwdag-1965 met boeiende expositie,” De Rotterdammer, May 18, 1965. 19 GAR 646_1 (Box 104), “Opbouwdag in Hartje Stad,” Het Vrije Volk, May 18, 1965. The Building Centre was an office building constructed in 1948 as the location from where the reconstruction of Rotterdam could be coordinated. Located north-east of the Central Station, it was an important source of information on reconstruction in Rotterdam throughout the 1950s and 1960s. Today, the Centre is an office building. For more, see: http://www.bouwcentrum- rotterdam.nl/

Chapter Five 233

Motion was the fourth exhibition in less than fifteen years, and Rotterdam’s citizens had grown increasingly disinterested. “It was enough,” K.P. van de Mandele, former head of the Rotterdam

Chamber of Commerce, said at the event’s opening ceremonies in May 1965, referring to the fact that a fourth exhibition on a larger scale would have been overkill and that there was little interest in another event from either the public or Rotterdam’s politicians.20

Exhibitions faced increasing competition from other media by the mid 1960s. The introduction of the television in the middle of the previous decade inaugurated widespread changes. TV ownership, still very low in the late 1950s (there were only 200,000 sets in West

Germany in 195821) was near-ubiquitous a decade later.22 This eroded the exhibition’s power as a tool to structure communication. As Harriet Atkinson has put it, television “replace[d] exhibition as the universal medium of mass communication.”23 Indeed, many believed that with the introduction of the television, the exhibition would be consigned to the dust heap of history.24

Yet, despite waning public interest and lackluster support from city officials and the

Rotterdam business community, City in Motion promulgated the same narrative as its predecessors. It reinforced the message of reconstruction as a social medicine and science and technology as harbingers of urban salvation.25 In the face of rising critiques and disappointment, the event sought to remind people how much had been accomplished in the previous twenty years.

20 GAR 646_1 (Box 104), “Kwart Eeuw Bouw: Expositie ‘Rotterdam-stad inbeweging’ [sic] officieel geopened,” Het Rotterdamsch Parool, May 18, 1965. 21 Judt, Postwar, 345. 22 “By 1970 there was on average one television set for every four people in Western Europe… [and in the Netherlands] a family was more likely to own a television than a telephone.”22 By then, as Tony Judt has pointed out, “Being ‘French,’ or ‘German,’ or ‘Dutch’ was now something shaped less by primary education or public festivities than by one’s understanding of the country as gleaned from the images thrust into each home.”22 Tony Judt, Postwar, 345- 346. 23 Harriet Atkinson, The Festival of Britain: A Land and its People (London: I.B. Taurus & Co., 2012), 3. 24 As Robert Rydell points out, in the mid-1920s people also thought that the increased prevalence if department stores, radio, movies, and tourism would mean the end of international exhibitions. Robert W. Rydell, World of Fairs: The Century-of-Progress Expositions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993), 5. 25 Rein Blijstra, Rotterdam, Stad in Beweging (Amsterdam: De Arbeiderspers, 1965), 163; Han Meyer, City and Port: Urban Planning as a Cultural Venture in London, Barcelona, New York, and Rotterdam: Changing Relations between Public Urban Space and Large-Scale Infrastructure (Utrecht: International Books, 1999), 328.

Chapter Five 234

As Helmut Puff wrote about a similar retrospective organized in Hamburg in 1966, exhibitions served as reminders of “what had been accomplished under adverse conditions by those who had survived the war… so that the citizenry would be grateful for what local governments had achieved with such stunning speed.”26

This was the goal behind Rotterdam’s exhibition as well, evidenced by the event’s main feature: three large-scale models of Rotterdam’s downtown core as it stood in 1939, 1944, and

1965, offering a comparative view of decades of progress and recovery. The first model depicted

Rotterdam as it stood in 1939, and carefully highlighted just how densely packed, chaotic, dirty, and congested the prewar city had been. As the result of rapid economic and demographic growth, in 1939 Rotterdam was, as a local newspaper described it “a city of 620,000 inhabitants, 8,000 cars, … 15,500 ships. The houses and streets packed tightly. A city full of memories, packed together on 12 square meters.”27 Right next to it stood a model of the city in 1944. This was barely a model at all: the display table was largely empty, with a few paltry buildings in its middle: the city hall, the post office, and the tower of the St. Laurens Church.28 The third model displayed the city of 1965. As the pièce de résistance of the exhibition, it was by far the most impressive of the three, and was explicitly designed to be so. It demonstrated to visitors the progress made in the previous twenty years, and placed a special emphasis on work currently underway. Officially entitled “the City of Today and Tomorrow,” the model used different materials to highlight different “eras” in the city’s history. Pre-war buildings appeared in a different material than those built after the war. Future building projects, moreover, were represented in clear plastic.29 The emptiness of 1944 had been replaced with highly modern, rectangular buildings, all devoid of

26 Helmut Puff, Miniature Monuments: Modelling German History (Boston: De Gruyter, 2014), 189. 27 GAR 646_1 (Box 104), “Hoofdschotel? Vlees! Rotterdam imponeert als stad in beweging,” Rotterdamsch Nieuwsblad, May 18, 1965. 28 Ibid. 29 “Interessant, optimistisch, maar… eenzijdig,” De Waarheid, May 20, 1965, 4; GAR 646_1 (Box 104), “Overdaad van ,,Stad in beweging” onvermijdelijk,” De Tijd-Maasbode & Het Nieuwe Dagblad, May 18, 1965.

Chapter Five 235 ornamentation. The city’s layout favoured function over form, and efficient thoroughfares cut through the city in all directions. Rotterdam now counted more than 730,000 citizens, 88,000 cars, and 27,500 ships, a stunning increase for a city that “had been covered in three million cubic meters of rubble and thirty million kilos of steel” in 1940.30

The set-up of the three models next to one another was deliberate. Presented in contrast with the 1939 and 1944 models, the 1965 models offered another instance of what Helmut Puff has called “comparative seeing.”31 Puff argues that such display – one of an earlier period of destruction and one of the contemporary state of the city – was “used as a means against the forgetting that the authorities feared was an almost inevitable outcome of their own success in renewing the city.”32 Although Puff’s argument specifically applies to the West German context, where models of destroyed cities (“rubble models”) were often displayed next to reconstructed models of the same city as we saw in Chapter Two, it can also be applied to Rotterdam. The organizers framed the city’s reconstruction to contrast with the preceding emptiness. This forced the viewers to understand recovery not on its own terms, but based on progress measured from an arbitrary point in history. And it seemed to work. Newspapers extensively reported on the models, highlighting especially the contrast between those of 1944 and 1965. “No aerial photograph,” newspaper De Waarheid wrote, “was able to convey the sheer scale of destruction and resurrection

[as those models did.]”33 The Gereformeerd Gezinsblad went further, stating that “Rotterdam, City in Motion… is an exposition, with as its goal to show how the city on the Meuse has redeveloped

30 GAR 646_1 (Box 104), “Hoofdschotel? Vlees! Rotterdam imponeert als stad in beweging,” Rotterdamsch Nieuwsblad, May 18, 1965. 31 This technique was also used at previous exhibitions, as with the juxtaposition of the Hamburg Now and Hamburg 1943 models at IGA’53, for example. See Chapter Two. 32 Helmut Puff, Miniature Monuments: Modelling German History (Boston: De Gruyter, 2014), 189. 33 GAR 646_1 (Box 104), “Hoofdschotel? Vlees! Rotterdam imponeert als stad in beweging,” Rotterdamsch Nieuwsblad, May 18, 1965. “Interessant, optimistisch, maar… eenzijdig,” De Waarheid, 20-05-1965, 4.

Chapter Five 236 after the bombardments [of May 1940], and have those who experienced the events pause and reflect on this progress.”34

Aside from some small overtures to future change – the new head of the Rotterdam

Chamber of Commerce, J. van de Berg, highlighted in his opening speech that “parts of the city will have to be renewed” – the exhibition did not deviate from the older narratives of reconstruction’s success.35 In addition to “exhibition fatigue” and the rise of the television, this inflexibility could well have accounted for City in Motion’s failure. Organizers had anticipated some 100,000 visitors, but only 23,880 tickets had been sold by the time the exhibition closed its doors in August 1965.36 The 1947 Rotterdam Soon exhibition, by contrast, had sold more than three times as many tickets (77,631 vs. 23,880), even though Rotterdam’s population had grown substantially between 1947 and 1965.37 Indeed, the main critique levelled against the exhibition was that it gave a one-sided interpretation of reconstruction at a time when public critique of this reconstruction had become increasingly vocal. “On the whole, the exhibition gives a one-sided and somewhat overly optimistic view of the development of Rotterdam. Many facets are glanced over, and many things are presented as prosperous,” one journalist noted.38 Another added: “When reconstruction was addressed, we fell back into the tired narrative of success, without actually considering the downsides of that reconstruction.”39 As Ina van den Beugel’s column about the

34 “Manifestatie,” Gereformeerd Gezinsblad, May 19, 1965, 1. 35 GAR 646_1 (Box 104), “Kwart Eeuw Bouw: Expositie ‘Rotterdam-stad inbeweging’ [sic] officieel geopened,” Het Rotterdamsch Parool, May 18, 1965. 36 “Expositie Stad in Beweging,” Het Vrije Volk, August 18, 1965, 7; “Manifestatie,” Gereformeerd Gezinsblad, May 19, 1965, 1. 37 “Beknopt overzicht van de voornaamste openbare werken in 1947,” Rotterdams Jaarboekje Series 5, Year 6 (1948), 116. (Jaarboekje rounds up the total to 78,000.); “Rotterdam Straks,” Het Vrije Volk, February 9, 1947, 6. In fact, Rotterdam’s population reached an all-time high in 1965 at 730,000 inhabitants. See: Tom Daamen, Strategy as Force: Towards Effective Strategies for urban Development: The Case of Rotterdam CityPorts (Amsterdam: IOS Press, 2010), 81. 38 Instead of the word prosperous, the article uses the expression “botertje tot de boom,” which is is supposed to indicate prosperity and welfare and an excellent relationship between two parties. 39 GAR 646_1 (Box 104), “Overdaad van ,,Stad in beweging” onvermijdelijk,” De Tijd-Maasbode & Het Nieuwe Dagblad, May 18, 1965.

Chapter Five 237

Floriade in Chapter Four attested, people were tired of hearing about how “breathtaking” and

“beautiful” everything was, especially when that narrative did not speak to their lived experience of the city.40 After twenty years of being inundated with messaging about a new, exciting, and prosperous future, people had become increasingly disinterested. As a participatory form of civic engagement, the earlier exhibitions were popular and exciting precisely because they predicted a brave new world of possibility and optimism. By the mid 1960s, this was no longer the case.

Rotterdam’s public was increasingly critical of the pollution, noise, traffic, and environmental degradation that seemed to be a part of their everyday lived experience.

The following year, Hamburg also hosted a retrospective exhibition. Named Hamburg

Builds, the event was organized by the Hamburg Baubehörde and was paid for by the city.41

Several public and private organizations, including the Union for Municipal Housing Companies

(Städtische Wohnungsbaugesellschaften), the construction company Neue Heimat, and the shipping firm Blohm & Voß provided financial support. A number of architects also contributed.42

Like City in Motion, it was designed as a look back on Hamburg’s postwar urban development.

As a demonstration of its retrospective nature all four of Hamburg’s mayors from the reconstruction years were present at the opening ceremonies: Max Brauer (1946-1953, 1957-

1960), Dr. Kurt Sieveking (1953-1957), Dr. Paul Nevermann (1961-1965), and the incumbent

Herbert Weichmann.43 The event was organized chronologically. Beginning right after the bombing of 1943, it showcased the immense destruction of the city through a “‘rubble relief’

(Trümmerpalette) or ‘damage model’ (Schadenmodell)” similar to the one used at IGA’53.44 The exhibition then juxtaposed the general reconstruction plan (Generalbauplan) of 1947 with the

40 See Chapter Four in this dissertation, 202-203. 41 StaHH 321-3 I_1270, “Finazierung der Ausstellung ‘Hamburg Baut’, 24. Januar 1966.” 42 StaHH 321-3 I_1270, “Begrüßing – SB – für die Ausstellung “Hamburg Baut,” 3. 43 Senator Ceasar Meister, Introduction, Hamburg Baut 1945-1965, Hamburger Schriften zum Bau-, Wohnungs- und Siedlungswesen, Heft 41 (1966). 44 Puff, Miniature Monuments, 189. (I do not know if these were the same models.)

Chapter Five 238

1960 plan. Thus, by starting with models of destruction and then charting progress, authorities could remind people of how far they had come.45

Hamburg Builds also placed a much greater emphasis on contemporary developments. The event’s name was in the present tense and its events location was an active construction site: an unfinished pedestrian tunnel between the Mönckebergstraße and the Central Station.46 “Everybody knows that Hamburg is building,” mayor Weichmann stated at the its official opening, “you can see it [happening]… But Hamburg is big, and we cannot see everything that is being built all the time.”47 To further highlight progress and activity in the city, organizers included film screenings under the motto “Sieh Dir an, wie Hamburg baut” (“Look How Hamburg is Building.”), as well as city tours, organized by the Hamburg Baubehörde.48 There were four different routes, each surveying a specific part of the city. One of the routes (northeast) was explicitly called “Then and

Now” (Früher und Heute), highlighting how far the city had come since 1945.49

The contemporary focus allowed organizers more flexibility in presenting Hamburg’s recovery. Current reconstruction projects were framed in light of contemporary desires, rather than as an attempt to hold up an older narrative as City in Motion did. This was reflected in mayor

Weichmann’s opening speech, when he explained that the ideas promulgated by the Charter of

Athens were increasingly contentious and no longer compatible with contemporary urban development. He stressed, moreover, that the economic development of the city – which had previously been upheld as the main focus of recovery – had considerable downsides for its

45 Ibid. 46 Thanks to Helmut Puff for drawing my attention the fact that Hamburg Baut was in the present-tense. Ibid., 189. 47 StaHH 321-3 I_1270, “Hamburg Baut” Ansprache Erster Bürgermeister Prof. Dr. H.Weichmann,” 1. “Jeder weiß, daß in Hamburg gebaut wird. Man sieht es... Aber Hamburg ist groß; wir können nicht sehen, wo überall gebaut wird, und die Zeit ist lang.” 48 StaHH 321-3 I_1270, “Austellung “Hamburg Baut,” January 26, 1966.” The tours were promoted under the “Tips for the Weekend” section in the Hamburger Abendblatt for several weeks through the summer of 1966. See: “Tips für das Wochende,” Hamburger Abendblatt, June 16, 1966, June 23, 1966, July 7, 1966, August 8, 1966. 49 See: “Tips für das Wochende,” Hamburger Abendblatt, June 16, 1966, June 23, 1966, July 7, 1966, August 8, 1966.

Chapter Five 239 livability. “We are the largest industrial space in the Federal Republic after Berlin,” Weichmann spoke, we are “a world port, a centre of trade, and a concentration point of the service sector but, most importantly, we are the home (Heimstatt) of the people who live and have to feel at home here.”50 Weichmann’s speech proved apt. The importance of the lived experience and “quality of life” became increasingly important in upcoming years. It was foundational to how Rotterdam and

Hamburg were presented at C70 and IGA’73.

Hamburg Builds attracted 100,000 visitors in less than four weeks, and over 178,000 during its two-month run.51 This was more than seven times the number of visitors that Rotterdam, City in Motion had enjoyed. The event’s unexpected popularity led organizers to consider installing a permanent exhibition on the site once the pedestrian tunnel was finished.52 The friendlier reaction to Hamburg Builds can be attributed to several factors. Firstly, it was located in a busy transit terminal and entry was free. Hamburg, moreover, had not hosted many exhibitions of this kind before: people had not been inundated with messages about how “breathtaking” the city was.

Finally, the focus on current developments and including a more critical engagement with past projects were in line with changing times.

Rotterdam’s Communication’70 (1970)

By 1968 Rotterdam’s urban form was increasingly subjected to sustained critique. In

November of that year, social-psychologist Rob Wentholt published his study The Inner-City

50 StaHH 321-3 I_1270, “Ansprache von Bürgermeister Prof. Dr. Weichmann zur Eröffnung der Ausstellung “Hamburg Baut 1945-1965” im Fußgängertunnel Hauptbahnhof/Mönckebergstraße am Dienstag, 25. Januar 1966, 10.00 Uhr,” 5. “Heimstatt” is a lesser-used synonym for “Heimat.” “…Heimstatt der Menschen, die sich in ihr eben heimisch fühlen sollen.” 51 StaHH 321-3 I_1270, “Beitrag zur Unterrichting der Tagespresse, 28. Februar 1966;” “Ausstellung im Tunnel bis 8. März verlängert,” Hamburger Abendblatt, March 2, 1966; Senator Ceasar Meister, “Introduction,” in Carl Heinz Trinckler, ed., Hamburg Baut: 1945-1965; ein Bericht über den Aufbau Hamburgs. Hamburger Schriften zum Bau-, Wohnungs- und Siedlungswesen, Heft 41 (Hammonia-Verlag, 1966). 52 StaHH 321-3 I_1270, “Betr.: Ausstellung im Fußgängertunnel am Hauptbahnhof, 27. Januar 1966.”

Chapter Five 240

Experience and Rotterdam (De Binnenstadsbeleving en Rotterdam), a radical reinterpretation of

Rotterdam’s physical reconstruction.53 City in Motion had stated that recovery and reconstruction had come along as planned.54 Wentholt went in the opposite direction. His study highlighted that people were dissatisfied with Rotterdam’s inner-city, claiming that it lacked both livability and conviviality.55 Wentholt’s study was based on two surveys. The first focused on the city’s governmental and business elites (the “notables,” as Wentholt called them), and the second on 100 interviews conducted on the streets of downtown and in the outer neighbourhoods.56 Both surveys were conducted in 1967. They asked how people felt about postwar Rotterdam. In response to the question “How do you feel about Rotterdam’s city centre?” 42 per cent responded negatively and

12 per cent expressed mixed feelings.57 When asked for further explanation about the negative feelings, people did not hold back. Rotterdam was “cold,” “bare,” “stiff,” “pragmatic,” “ugly,”

“clumsy,” “massive,” “empty,” and “dead,” they said.58 They told Wentholt that Rotterdam’s reconstruction was “was a concatenation of aesthetic failures, an example of a defected sense of proportion, incoherent, unpleasant, ugly and rough.”59 The notables, too, were critical. As Wentholt himself put it, “almost without exception did [the notables] have severe criticism of the reconstructed downtown.”60 In short, what came through time and again in the responses was that

53 Rob Wentholt, De Binnenstadsbeleving en Rotterdam (Rotterdam: AD. Donker, 1968). In what proved to be somewhat of an odd gift, the study was commissioned by Vroom & Dreesman, a large Dutch department store, on the occasion of the chain’s 75th anniversary of the Rotterdam location. “Boek over binnenstad-problemen” Het Vrije Volk, November 12, 1968. 54 Han Meyer, City and Port: Urban Planning as a Cultural Venture in London, Barcelona, New York, and Rotterdam: Changing Relations between Public Urban Space and Large-Scale infrastructure (Utrecht: International Books, 1999), 328. 55 Wentholt, De Binnenstadsbeleving, 91. 56 The people were chosen randomly with only one exception: age. Wentholt avoided people older than 45, so as to avoid nostalgic comparisons with pre-war Rotterdam. Accordingly, out of his 100 respondents, 21 were aged 15-20, 49 were aged 21-30, 25 were aged 31-40, and 5 were aged 41-45. Wentholt, De Binnenstadsbeleving, 35, 40-41. 57 Wentholt, De Binnenstadsbeleving, 35, 36. 58 “De vaakst genoemde redenen van het onbehagen met het centrum betroffen de ongezelligheid van de sfeer in de binnenstad; de onpersoonlijkheid, kaalheid, koudheid, stijfheid, zakelijkheid van het uiterlijk; het algehele voorkomen van de binnenstad; de wijdheid van de straten, de lelijkheid, plompheid en massiviteit van de gebouwen, de lege ruimten, de dode plekken, het gebrek aan intimiteit.” Wentholt, De Binnenstadsbeleving, 36. 59 Ibid., 19. 60 Ibid., 37.

Chapter Five 241

Rotterdam’s inner city lacked what the Dutch call gezelligheid.61 Gezelligheid is the adjective form of gezellig, a term notoriously hard to translate. When applied to city planning, gezelligheid denotes a feeling of warmth, congeniality, or fun. It refers to an atmosphere, a feeling, and overall presence, rather than a specific design feature or thing. As Patricia Van Ulzen has put it, “to experience [gezelligheid] depends on many more factors than a manner of building or a particular urban design response to a situation.”62 Wentholt had demonstrated that even though Rotterdam had not failed in a strict functional sense, the average Rotterdammer experienced the city as corporate, impersonal, sterile, and rigid.63

Wentholt offered recommendations on how to “fix”’ Rotterdam. He suggested, very much n line with Jane Jacobs’ thinking, that the city needed an “injection of the small-scale,” that history had to be brought back, and that the city’s sterile image could be removed by bringing back

“messiness” in the form of patios, crowds, plants, and public art. In other words, he suggested abandoning the dominant focus on functionalism that had guided previous years of urban recovery, the same functionalism celebrated in the postwar manifestations. Many of his suggestions were taken up in subsequent years, including at Rotterdam’s final major manifestation,

Communication’70. Although surprisingly little specific reference was made to Wentholt’s work in the event’s discussion minutes, his influence was clear and profound. Wentholt’s suggestions on how to improve the image of the inner-city were almost all implemented: C70 brought large crowds to Rotterdam’s downtown, installed public art, and filled the inner-city’s large and impersonal squares and plazas with patios. Wentholt’s influence was also clearly present in one of

C70’s promotional booklets, which stated that: “Rotterdam is the city of work. The reason for this

61 A term similar to the Germans gemütlichkeit. 62 Patricia van Ulzen, Imagine a Metropolis: Rotterdam’s Creative Class, 1970-2000 (Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 2007), 71 63 Wentholt, De Binnenstadsbeleving 162.

Chapter Five 242 designation is clear, in the evening when nightlife in other cities flourishes, the centre of Rotterdam remains quiet and abandoned. The atmosphere is lacking, they say. The colossal inner-city is too large to create an atmosphere of cosiness. C70 has attempted to help Rotterdam out of this city's not so friendly image.”64

Faced with these challenges, civic and business leaders looked to C70 as a way to improve

Rotterdam’s image. Thus, although C70 looked very different from its predecessors, its commercial goals had changed very little: the event was still a booster for the city and its government. As historian James C. Kennedy pointed out in his book New Babylon Under

Construction, Dutch political elites in the late 1960s were acutely aware that the times were changing and that they had to adjust in order to survive politically.65 Citizens now wanted different things, and the parameters for judging urban success had changed. Accordingly, the Rotterdam

City Council approved funding for C70 to the tune of ƒ4,750,000.66 With some distance, this was the largest financial contribution that the city had ever made to a manifestation. It was almost five times as much as Ahoy’, and more than E55 and the Floriade put together.67 For this money, they hoped that downtown Rotterdam would be “livened up” during the summer of 1970, and they planned on providing four months of festivities of all kinds: musical performances, gymnastics, fashion shows, outdoor movie screenings, folk dances, choir singing, discussion meetings,

64 GAR 389_21, “Communicate ’70: mei-september 1970,” 17. 65 James C. Kennedy, Nieuw Babylon in aanbouw: Nederland in de Jaren zestig (Amsterdam: Boom, 1995). Although other historians have argued that Kennedy has “underestimated the authorities’ resistance to innovations in the 1960s and [was] too quick to interpret the changes achieved as being the result of a tolerant and benevolent ruling class.” Schuyt and Taverne, Dutch Culture from a European Perspective, 352. 66 GAR 389_2, “Oprichting Stichting Communicatie 1970, Rotterdam, februarie 1969,” 2. 67 GAR 315_14, “Stichting Tentoonstelling 1950, Verslag van de tentoonstelling Rotterdam-Ahoy’ 15 Juni – 31 Augustus 1950,” pg. 4, 8. The city had provided a guarantee of ƒ1 million for Ahoy’. See also: GAR 315_1, Letter to the mayor and Aldermen from the Municipal Finance Commission, Afd. F. No. W. 3493, Onderwerp: Havententoonstelling 1950, January 24/25, 1949. The city had provided ƒ2 million for E55 (A 1 million guilder guarantee and a ƒ1 million guilder working balance). It had further provided ƒ2 million for the construction of the Energie exhibition hall. (GAR 315_30, “Verzameling 1953: Manifestatie 1955 Concept (Vertrouwelijk, niet voor de pers),” 10). Finally, out of an overall budget of ƒ15 million for the Floriade, the city had contributed ƒ3.5 million (GAR 315_322, “1960, het jaar van de Olympiade zal ook het jaar van de Floriade zijn,” subheading “Financiering,” 2.)

Chapter Five 243 children’s programs, hobby fairs, chess- and checkers- competitions, and much more.68 Indeed, as a tourist brochure put it, “in 1970, a year of celebration for Rotterdam, this city will be transformed into one big pleasure ground, the stage for playful dialogue between Town and People.

…Rotterdam, spells pleasure to your customers!”69

It was clear that Rotterdam’s international image in the early 1970s would no longer be predicated on the cutting-edge technological innovations of its harbour, its highly modernist downtown, or its economic prowess. Instead, Rotterdam was to be reinvented as the city of fun, light, and entertainment. Indeed, internal communications between the organizers explicitly refered to the fact that C70 was designed to “dress-up” the inner-city and provide “frills” to make it appear more amicable.70 As such, C70 actively reinterpreted the story of Rotterdam’s postwar.

As yet another promotional flyer put it “with [C70], Rotterdam also want[ed] to do something about the highly criticized livability of the city. C70 has therefore turned the entire exhibition area into a space where coziness and entertainment prevail.”71 The “city of work” could also be the city of fun. This was also reflected in the name. C70 stood for Communication’70 (Communicatie ’70), and organizers explicitly stated that the name was a reflection of their desire to communicate

Rotterdam’s new postwar identity.72 This idea was further underscored in the event’s official motto

– “a festive encounter between man and city” – and reinforced by mayor Thomassen when he wrote that C70 had been designed to “show its guests [the] unique ways of Rotterdam’s reconstruction after twenty-five years… in an atmosphere of coziness and fun.”73

68 GAR 389_1, Letter from B. Fokkinga (Director of City Development) to A. Fibbe, 28 June, 1968. 69 GAR 389_165, Brochure: “See Holland with Friendschip Tours.” 70 GAR 389_2, “Voorgeschiedenis evenementen 1970,” 2. 71 GAR 389_21, “Communicate ’70: mei-september 1970,” 7. 72 It took a while to settle on the name. In the archival record C70 is variously referred to as “Event’70” or “Rotterdam’70” (R70) before the name C70 was confirmed. 73 GAR 389_21, “C70: feestelijke ontmoeting van mens en stad,” pg. 1; GAR 389_21, “Communicate ’70: mei- september 1970,” 5.

Chapter Five 244

The festival’s intent was perhaps best demonstrated by its official promotional video. Shot in a documentary style, it opened in black and white, showing all the modern features Rotterdam had to offer. A low tracking shot showed the broad boulevards piercing the city from all directions, the complicated cloverleaf intersections buzzing with traffic, and tall and imposing office towers conceived in a highly modern style with angular designs and lack of ornamentation. With factual directness, a narrator spoke: “Rotterdam, they say, used to be such a gezellige stad. Until May ’40.

To give a city its heart back, that is an almost impossible task. You can build the largest harbour in the world, erect imposing office towers, or dig out a modern subway system. It is all very impressive and very efficient, but it isn’t it.” The visuals then changed to a full-colour image, and the camera settled on a bright orange flag emblazoned with the C70 logo. The narrator continued:

“there has to be colour and life in a successful city; there has to be more mutual contact; communication is the word and with Communicatie’70 we want to show what has been achieved in the last twenty-five years.”74

The task of providing postwar Rotterdam with “it” was left up to C70’s executive organizational committee. Unlike previous exhibitions, the personalities on this committee were almost all new, as the older generation of organizers had by now retired or passed away. The architectural team Van den Broek & Bakema, who had been in charge of overall design since 1950, was replaced with architect Herman Bakker, whose designs preferred gezelligheid over functionality. For the first time, Jacques Kleiboer was not involved in the organization of a postwar manifestation. Although he served as an advisor in 1966 during the early organizational stages of

C70, he was not involved beyond that.75 In fact, after organizing the 1963 Frisiana Exhibition in

74 C70 Polygoon Documentary, The Netherlands Institute for Sound and Vision (also on youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jWQlFqnufMk (accessed April 28, 2016). 75 GAR 389_2, Letter from the Muncipal Secretary J.C. Knap to mayor Thomassen, April 28, 1966, 2; GAR 389_2, “Voorgeschiedenis evenementen 1970,” 2. GAR 389_2, Letters from Kleiboer to J.C. Knap, August 31, 1966 and December 6, 1966.

Chapter Five 245

Leeuwarden, Kleiboer retired from exhibition work. He passed away in December 1984 at the age of 86.76 Kleiboer’s successor as Chairman of the Executive Committee was Anton Fibbe. Fibbe was born on November 14, 1916, as the third of five children to a middle-class family in

Rotterdam. He had been a member of the Rotterdam Chamber of Commerce since 1952 and as such was involved in the organization of E55 and the Floriade.77 In 1964 he had been elected as vice-president of the Rotterdam Chamber of Commerce.78 In the run-up to C70, the task of finding an appropriate replacement for Kleiboer was the subject of discussion. Inaction on the part of the

Chamber of Commerce and the Rotterdam City Council frustrated Fibbe immensely. Exasperated, he finally asked during a committee meeting: “Can I just do it?” (“Mag ik het doen?”).79 He was confirmed as the executive committee’s chairman just days later.

Under Fibbe’s leadership, the principles that had guided the organization of previous manifestations were largely discarded.80 The exhibition grounds, which up until this point had always been Het Park, were moved to Rotterdam’s downtown core: the area most directly affected by wartime bombing and subsequent reconstruction. By hosting the exhibition downtown, Fibbe hoped to fill the wide boulevards and open plazas with people and to provide a feeling of crowded intimacy. Bordered roughly by the Weena to the north and the Blaak to the south, the exhibition grounds centered on the north-south axes of the Coolsingel and the Lijnbaan.81 The move made sense, getting people downtown and filling up the spacious boulevards was one of the main ways by which organizers sought to make Rotterdam more appealing. They were in luck. The local

76 “Jacques Kleiboer, organisator van Frisiana, overleden,” Leeuwarder Courant, December 18, 1984. 77 Andreae Fockema, “Anthonius Johannes Fibbe, 1916-1988,” Rotterdams Jaarboekje, Series 09, Year 07 (1989), 131. 78 Fockema, “Anthonius Johannes Fibbe, 1916-1988,” 132; A.J. Teychiné Stakenburg, “Ter Nagedachtenis, Mr. K.P. van der Mandele (1880-1975), Rotterdams Jaarboekje, Series 08, Year 04 (1976), 107. 79 Fockema, “Anthonius Johannes Fibbe, 1916-1988,” 132. 80 The desire to move away from the previous exhibitions was so strong, that the Ahoy’ and Energie exhibition halls (which had hosted Ahoy’ and E55) were physically removed from the Rotterdam landscape and replaced with the Erasmus University Medical Faculty. 81 GAR 389_1, Map: “Begrenzing gebied tbv. Communicatie 1970.”

Chapter Five 246 soccer club Feyenoord won the Europa Cup on May 6, 1972, only a few days after C70 had officially opened. As a result, Rotterdam’s main downtown thoroughfare, the Coolsingel, which was temporarily renamed the Goalsingel, was overrun by celebrating fans decked out in the teams red and white colours. Feyenoord went on to win the Intercontinental Cup in August of that year, repeating a massive celebration downtown just in time for C70’s closing ceremonies.

Simply filling the streets with large crowds, however was not enough to “cover up” the sheer scale of Rotterdam’s postwar urban form or to provide the convivial atmosphere that organizers were after. Office towers still loomed large on all sides, and even when it was busy, the open squares and plazas retained an empty and airy atmosphere: exactly as the designers of the

1950s had envisioned. In order to provide a cozier experience, the executive committee decided to lower the perceived ceiling by putting up covered walkways throughout the downtown. Designed by Herman Bakker, and conceived of as little plastic domes in a great variety of colours, the walkways dotted the entire exhibition grounds.82 This had the benefit of providing shelter from rain, exceedingly common in Rotterdam, but the main purpose was that, as Patricia van Ulzen put it, “[w]alking beneath these gaily coloured domes, one was briefly unaware of the detested large scale of the inner city.” 83

The domes created a full two-and-a-half kilometer covered walkway across the exhibition grounds.84 Along this walkway, there were a great variety of little stalls, kiosks, boutiques, cafes, restaurants, and pavilions designed by Dutch architect Wim Quist.85 In all sixty pavilions of various kinds were scattered throughout the downtown, providing plenty of food, drink, or entertainment and the opportunity for the tired visitor to sit down, relax, and take in the sights and sounds.86 In

82 GAR 389_21, “C70: feestelijke ontmoeting van mens en stad,” 7. 83 Van Ulzen, Imagine a Metropolis, 70. 84 GAR 389_21, “Communicate ’70: mei-september 1970,” 11. 85 GAR 389_21, “C70: feestelijke ontmoeting van mens en stad,” 8. 86 Ibid., 7..

Chapter Five 247 addition to food and drink establishments, there were also many other pavilions that offered fun and light entertainment. Rotterdam looked like a fairground. In the Leuvehaven was a floating dolphinarium with seats for 1,000 spectators, and on the former heliport site, near the old Ahoy’ exhibition halls, the organization had erected a temporary amusement park, resplendent with

Europe’s largest roller coaster, go-karts, shooting tents, and haunted houses.87

The attempt to cover up the large scale of Rotterdam’s downtown was a drastic change from previous manifestations. In a telling example, the newspaper Het Vrije Volk organized a pavilion outfitted with a mini-press that created a daily C70-newspaper, printed under the watchful eye of spectators.88 The fact that it was a mini-press, was a big departure. It underscored C70’s changed emphasis. At E55 and the Floriade, exhibits had emphasized the spectacle of scale, creating full-size replicas to create immersive environments where pavilions towered over an awed public. C70 did the opposite and literally elevated people above the city. A two-kilometer long gondola, designed by Swiss chairlift manufacturer Willy Bühler, offered views of downtown from a new perspective and allowed visitors to survey all the exhibition’s attractions.89 Looking from above, the city seemed much smaller and less daunting. Similarly, the Euromast observation tower, built for the Floriade in 1960, received an extension, elevating people even higher above the city.

A seventy-meter tall pole – the Space Tower – was added to bring the Euromast’s total height to a

180 meters.90 A rotating elevator – likewise of Swiss construction and design – brought people all

87 GAR 389_21, “Communicate ’70: mei-september 1970,” 19, 29; GAR 389_21, “C70: feestelijke ontmoeting van mens en stad,” 7. 88 GAR 389_21, “Communicate ’70: mei-september 1970,” 29. 89 The gondola ran from the Central Station east along the Weena, then south along the Coolsingel, west along the Binnenweg, and then north up to the Weena along the Karel Doorman Straat. There were two stations, one near the Central Station on the corner of the Weena and the Karel Doorman Straat, and an intermediate station at the intersection of the Coolsingel and the Binnenweg. GAR 389_21, “Communicate ’70: mei-september 1970,” 15. 90 GAR 389_21, “Communicate ’70: mei-september 1970,” 19-20. The construction of the Space Tower was promoted abroad with an English-language movie, cleverly titled: “A New High in the Low Lands.” “Hoogte punt in de lage landen,” Het Vrije Volk, December 12, 1970.

Chapter Five 248 the way to the top. It provided, as discussion minutes put it, “a gorgeous view [of] Rotterdam [and] its harbour basins full of sailing ships.”91

The focus on the small-scale was most obviously demonstrated in one of C70’s most stunning attractions: the Havodam. The Havodam, the name of which was a play on Madurodam, the miniature city near The Hague, was a 200:1 exact scale model of the Rotterdam habour from

Maasvlakte to the Van Brienenoord bridge. Located on the corner of the Weena and the Coolsingel at the Hofplein, the model was a gift from the Rotterdam business community to the City of

Rotterdam. The cost – ƒ1.5 million – was covered by prominent Rotterdam companies.92 At almost

5,000 square meters and resplendent with thousands of ships, tankers, piers, storage containers, factories, cranes, docks, buoys, sailboats, tracks, and other vehicles, it was the largest 3-D model ever constructed in the Netherlands.93 It contained almost 3,000 square meters of streets, roads, beaches, dikes, embankments, groves and green belts, as well as 300 metres of quay-walls and over 20,000 lightbulbs.94 The model was furthermore outfitted with hundreds of small engines that allowed visitors, with the push of a button, to bring the whole display to life. Visitors could make ships sail, cranes work, bridges open, and even ignite the “eternal flames” of the Pernis oil refineries.95

The Havodam was impressive and entertaining but, more crucially, it made the harbour seem friendly, fun, and approachable. Where Ahoy’ had stressed the economic importance of the reconstructed harbour, C70 now put this economic value in the context of entertainment. The

91 GAR 389_21, “Communicate ’70: mei-september 1970,” 19-20. 92 GAR 389_20, “Havenmaquettte wordt boeiend schouwspel,” De Rotterdammer, August 20, 1969. Originally, the goal had been to keep the Havodam after the exhibition had ended. Due to lack of funding, this ultimately fell through. GAR 389_21, “C70: feestelijke ontmoeting van mens en stad,” 4. 93 GAR 389_21, “Communicate ’70: mei-september 1970,” 48; GAR 389_13, “Verzameling 1969, Volgnr. 384: Overzicht Manifestatie Communicatie ’70, Rotterdam, 17 December 1969,” 1491. 94 GAR 389_21, “Communicate ’70: mei-september 1970,” 49; GAR 389_21, “C70: feestelijke ontmoeting van mens en stad,” 5. 95 GAR 389_21, “C70: feestelijke ontmoeting van mens en stad,” 4.

Chapter Five 249 harbour’s continuous expansion during the previous two decades had made it the largest in the world, but by the late 1960s and early 1970s the human and environmental costs of this expansion became increasingly obvious and onerous. Back in 1956, the nature reserve De Beer had been sacrificed for the expansion of the Rotterdam port in the Europoort Plan. Although there had been some resistance, the plan received the go-ahead with the argument that not doing so would have been detrimental to the economy. In 1969, the same thing threatened to happen when Plan 2000+ called for another radical expansion of the port at the expense of nearby natural reserves. This time, however, the plans were cancelled in response to pressure from environmental groups and concerned local citizens. It marked, as Schuyt and Taverne have put it, “an important moment in

Rotterdam’s post-1945 history: the departure from the long-held idea that what was good for the harbour was by extension good for Rotterdam.”96 The Havodam, in this light, might be seen as an attempt to ingratiate the port with local citizens, making it more approachable by literally putting people in control of some of its aspects. Indeed, Patrcia van Ulzen has argued that the Havodam could be read as a “half-intended attempt to present the port as less of a threat.”97 She cites a C70 promotional booklet, that states “now that industrial developments in Rotterdam have contributed to the prosperity enjoyed in the Netherlands a quarter of a century after liberation, further industrialization is being resisted. … [I]t is for good reason that Rotterdam is the focal point in a discussion about how to preserve human prosperity within an industrial society.”98 In short, the

Havodam reflected the major motivations behind C70 at large: demonstrating that economics and quality of life could coexist in the “city of work.”

96 Schuyt and Taverne, Dutch Culture from a European Perspective, 32. 97 Van Ulzen, Imagine a Metropolis, 70. 98 “Nu onder andere de industriele ontwikkeling van Rotterdam heeft bijgedragen aan de welvaart, die Nederland een kwart eeuw na de bevrijding kent, komt er weerstand tegen een verdure industrialisatie. Begrijpelijk… Niet voor niets is Rotterdam het twistpunt in een discussie, die het welzijn van de mens in een geindustrialiseerde samenleving wil waarborgen.” GAR 389_21, “Communicate ’70: mei-september 1970,” 8-9.

Chapter Five 250

After the City of Rotterdam itself, the biggest financial contributors to C70 were individual companies and industries. Businesses in the Rotterdam harbour had a vested interest in promoting a positive image of Rotterdam’s downtown. A report drafted by consulting companies Club 25 and

Publicityclub Rotterdam in 1970, highlighted the fact that the less-than-friendly image of

Rotterdam’s inner city was prohibitive to growth and prevented industries from attracting new workers. If this persisted, the report argued, the growth of the port might stagnate, investment might cease, and Rotterdam’s port would soon be rendered technologically redundant and be overtaken by competitors.99 Businesses thus sought to liven up the inner-city, realign their image with the needs of the present, and show visitors how their work contributed to quality of life in

Rotterdam and the Netherlands. In this sense the motivations were clearly the same as at E55, where local companies had likewise demonstrated that their industrial efforts were directly linked to societal progress. Although the Havodam was their most elaborate contribution, businesses organized other pavilions throughout the exhibition. Telecommunications firm Ericsson organized a “communications exhibition” in the Post Office on the Coolsingel furnished with all things related to telephone equipment and broadcasting facilities.100 Other firms, like Royal Dutch Shell and electronic giant Philips sought to highlight a friendlier side of their companies. Through photos, films, and 3D models, the Philips pavilion, for example, showed the company’s contributions to environmental clean-up, development in third world countries, and communications.101

Companies such as Smit-Nijmegen, NKF, NSAI, AEG, Groenpol, Coq, Siemens, Electron, and Megavolt all contributed to a pavilion called the Energy Line (Energie Lijn).102 Located in

99 GAR 389_27, “Rapport Rotterdam Promotion van de gecombineerde commissie Club 25 en de Publicityclub Rotterdam,” 4. 100 GAR 389_21, “Communicate ’70: mei-september 1970,” 27. 101 GAR 389_21, “Communicate ’70: mei-september 1970,” 48. 102 GAR 389_4, “Verslag van de bespreken van deelnemers aan de ‘Energielijn’ voor ‘Communicate 70’, gehouden op 16 september 1969 ten kantore van de Kamer van Koophandel,” 1

Chapter Five 251 front of the City Hall and the Post Office on the Coolsingel, the 200-meter-long exhibit sought to make energy “visible” with the display transistors, energy wires, and the like. With a slogan suggesting that nuclear energy would be the “power source of the 1970s,” the Energy Line would have been right at home at the Floriade ten years prior.103 This time around, however, the focus of nuclear energy research was not on horticulture per se, but on how nuclear power would create a cleaner, more livable environment as well as would powering all of the desired leisure activities of citizens.

The success and legacy of C70 is two-fold. On the one hand, it was a financial disaster. In fact, on August 5, 1971, Nieuwsblad van het Noorden reported that C70 had cost ƒ10 million, more than twice the originally anticipated budget. The article, moreover, speculated that the organization had known about the cost overruns but had determined that it was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.104 Combined with disappointing visitor numbers, this ensured that C70 actually faced a budget shortfall of ƒ4.3 million.105 While the plan had been to keep the Havodam and the gondola after C70 concluded, the Rotterdam City Council forced the organizational committee to sell these attractions in order to reduce the budget deficit.106

On the other hand, C70 was very successful from a social-cultural perspective. The goal of the exhibition had been to associate “the city of work” with fun, leisure, and entertainment and to liven-up the “dead” downtown area, and the Rotterdam public was enthusiastic about these new directions. When asked, many people remarked that C70 reminded them of Rotterdam prior to the

103 De Winter, Evenementen, 111. 104 “Rotterdams feest C-70 gaat dubbele kosten: ƒ10 mln,” Nieuwsblad van het Noorden, August 5, 1971, 5. 105 “Raad van Rotterdam heeft meer dan genoeg van C’70,” De Tijd, January 10, 1971. I cannot find any exact visitor numbers either in the C70 archival collection (#389) at the Rotterdam Municipal Archives or in newspapers. I can only find reference to the fact that the visitor numbers were “below expectations” and “disappointing.” A newspaper article in Het Vrije Volk in September 1970 describes a “record-breaking” weekend during which 300,000 people visited C70 (“C70 piekt op ‘t scheiden van de markt,” Het Vrije Volk, September 21, 1970). Considering that the Floriade attracted 3 million people a decade prior, I assume that expectations were for at least 3 million in 1970. 106 “Raad van Rotterdam heeft meer dan genoeg van C’70,” De Tijd, January 10, 1971.

Chapter Five 252 bombing of May 1940 in terms of warmth and congeniality.107 A NIPO poll conducted during C70, moreover, revealed that people had a “high appreciation” for the new image of Rotterdam and many hoped for a “continuation of [C70’s] philosophy.”108 The legacy of C70’s socio-cultural significance was demonstrated when City Council resurrected the old Construction Day as Inner-

City Day (Binnenstadsdag) in 1976.109 Briefly discussed in Chapter One, Construction Day was an annual holiday first conceived of by mayor Pieter Oud and K.P. van de Mandele in 1946. It had subsequently been organized every year to celebrate Rotterdam’s recovery. The day marked important milestones with political speeches, the ceremonial laying of a first stone, or the driving into the ground of a first pile. The event, moreover, reinforced Rotterdam’s image as being at the forefront of the Netherlands’ urban reinvention and postwar progress. By the mid 1960s, however, interest had waned, and the last Construction Day was organized to coincide with the opening of

C70.

Inner-City Day adopted C70’s socio-cultural emphasis. The Dutch Protestant Newspaper,

Reformatorisch Dagblad reported that the holiday was marked by “all sorts of activities… to focus the attention on the bubbly heart of Rotterdam.”110 Streets were filled with leisure and entertainment facilities. “There was a desire for a day that would pay attention to the inner city events (binnenstadsgebeuren), and that is why the municipal offices of Rotterdam started Inner-

City Day,” city coordinator H.J.L. Hofmeester, from the Office of Events for the City of Rotterdam explained. “It is because so many people left the downtown that we should try to make it gezellig again,” he continued.111 Hofmeester’s quote at once identifies that Inner-City Day had the same underlying priorities as C70, but it also demonstrates that these actions were undertaken in direct

107 “C70 bracht sfeer van vóór 1940”, Het Vrije Volk, October 1, 1970. 108 De Winter, Evenementen, 112. 109 GAR 1383_298, “Organisatie van de jaarlijks terugkeerende binnenstadsdag, 1976-1985.” 110 “Er zullen allerlei activiteiten plaatsvinden die de aandacht vestigen op het ,,bruisende" hart van de Maasstad.”“Binnenstadsdag vervolg van de naoorlogse opbouw,” Reformatorisch Dagblad, May 17, 1979. 111 “Binnenstadsdag vervolg van de naoorlogse opbouw,” Reformatorisch Dagblad, May 17, 1979.

Chapter Five 253 response to the perceived lack in Rotterdam’s postwar urban form. While the first two incarnations of Inner-City Day in 1976 and 1977 were solely organized by the City of Rotterdam, after 1978 the business sector became involved, giving money to pay for entertainment, or for the beautification of certain downtown areas.112 The events were tremendously successful, with over

175.000 people in attendance for 1978 and over 200,000 for 1979. It was an indication of the huge desire for fun and entertainment in downtown Rotterdam.

As the last major postwar Rotterdam manifestation, C70 in many ways presents a clear end-point for an investigation of Rotterdam’s exhibitions. It was a thoroughly Rotterdam phenomenon in that the event still aimed at improving the city, and embodied that hope and belief in a better tomorrow that had characterized Rotterdam’s reconstruction attitude for decades. The event was also fundamentally in line with previous exhibitions in the sense that it “told” people to look at the city in a certain way and provided a framework for the interpretation of the city’s recovery and development. Although the city organized smaller cultural events through the 1970s and 1980s, it would not be until 1988 that another large-scale cultural event – Rotterdam’88 – was organized. By this time, however, the moniker “manifestation” had been dropped. With C70 the exhibitions came full-circle. Ahoy’ and E55 had been organized in anticipation of a better future, while the Floriade had basked in the brief time-period when the idealized future and the present seemed to converge. C70, on the other hand, was marked by new priorities; a new modernity had taken over.

112 Ibid.

Chapter Five 254

Hamburg: International Horticultural Exhibition (1973)

On April 1, 1967, almost two years after the exhibition Hamburg Builds closed its doors,

Klaus-Dieter Ebert was appointed First Building Director in Hamburg.113 Ebert sought to create a more convivial and livable downtown, and his appointment was a clear sign of the new urban direction for the city. He abandoned the idea of moving Hamburg’s citizens away from the downtown core, instead favouring to have them live closer to downtown to liven up the inner-city.

“The building authorities are doing their utmost to slow the development of the inner-city into a pure workplace and a pure administrative centre,” he told the Hamburger Abendblatt in 1968.

“There must be more people living in the inner city.”114 Similar to what Wentholt had suggested for Rotterdam, Ebert hoped to revitalize Hamburg’s downtown by providing more space for pedestrians, hosting large events and parties in the downtown, and livening up the streets with decorations and public art.115

It was in the context of these changing urban priorities that the third and final Internationale

Gartenbauausstellung in Hamburg was organized. Although it was a horticultural exhibition,

IGA’73 was different from its predecessors in its emphasis on urban form. In fact, the organizational committee explicitly dediced to focus on a “policy of municipal attractiveness and… advertising for projects of urban planning” for IGA’73.116 Similar to their colleagues at C70, organizers for IGA’73 believed that increasing gezelligheid –or Gemütlichkeit in German– would make a great difference. They placed an emphasis on the provision of leisure and entertainment.

Accordingly, one of the main items on the agenda at organizational meetings were suggestions on

113 “Alle sprechen über Alsterzentrum, Super-Hotels, Kongresshall, Einkaufsparadiese. Unser Gespräch mit dem neuen Baudirektor Dr. Klaus D. Ebert: Baubeginn des Alsterzuntrum in drei Jahren!,” Hamburger Abendblatt, August 5, 1967. 114 “Baudirektor Ebert präsentiert Pläne zur Innenstadt-belebung: Freie Bahn für Fußgänger bis Dammtor,” Hamburger Abendblatt, September 18, 1968. 115 Ibid. 116 “Blumen für die Stadt: Bundegartenschau: Essen schließt zufrieden, Frankfurt a.M. hat kein Geld, Hamburg rechnet noch,” Die Zeit, 15 October, 1965.

Chapter Five 255 to how improve Hamburg’s urban image. One of the first suggestions made at a meeting in October

1966 was to make sure that the Hamburg theatre, opera, and operetta houses would not be put on hold for the duration of the IGA as had been done for IGA’63. Other suggestions included the incorporation of the IGA with other cultural events, including boxing matches, the European

Athletics Championships, and church events or gymnastic festivals.117 There was also talk of including an aquarium for IGA’73 – very much like the dolphinarium that featured at C70– but

Senator Wilhelm Eckström rejected this idea, stating that an aquarium would belong at

(Hamburg’s Zoo) Hagenbeck, not the IGA.”118 Clearly, the focus of IGA’73 had shifted from its predecessors to focus on the promotion of the city’s attractiveness and livability, much like C70 had done in Rotterdam. The Hamburger Abendblatt put it best when it reported that at IGA’73 the

“horticultural aspects may not necessarily stand in the foreground, [and] visitors can expect a wealth of entertaining and relaxing activities.”119 Promotion of the city in 1973 was clearly done differently than a decade before as the parameters of success had changed. This had already been evident at parts of IGA’63, which highlighted the natural environment as a key concern for a livable postwar city. In 1973, this was even more obvious, as the emphasis on livability and experience carried the day.

About a year after the conclusion of IGA’63, the Hamburg Senate applied to the Central

Horticultural Association (Zentralverband Gartenbau) to host a follow-up event for 1973. Despite the criticism against the cost overruns of the IGA’53 and IGA’63, both which had been deemed a

“financial fiasco” by the press, the Senate considered the exhibitions valuable tools in the marketing and promotion of the city.120 It hoped that the 1973 exhibition would boost trade,

117 “Ein Vorschlag für IGA 1973: IGA ohne Theaterpause,” Hamburger Abendblatt, October 11, 1966. 118 Ibid. 119 “Das braucht die IGA 1973: Neue Manager, neue Ideen,” Hamburger Abendblatt, August 10, 1965. 120 Ibid.

Chapter Five 256 increase tourism revenue, and reintroduce Hamburg to audiences as a metropolis fit for the 1970s.

With expected international participation from over thirty countries, the event was to be

Hamburg’s international calling card (Visitenkarte), as Gustav Heinemann, the President of the

German Federal Republic (r. 1969-1974), put during the event’s opening ceremonies.121 After the economic downturn of 1966 and the political and cultural tensions of the late 1960s, elites in the city also hoped to capitalize on the international attention that the 1972 Munich Olympics would bring to West Germany. Eckström told the Hamburger Abendblatt in 1969 that “after the Olympic

Games in Munich and Kiel in 1972, the Hansestadt has to become the general tourist destination in 1973.”122

The organization of IGA’73 was once again a partnership between the City of Hamburg and the Central Association of German Vegetable, Fruit, and Horticulture (Zentralverband des

Deutschen Gemüse-, Obst- und Gartenbaues e.V., or ZVG). The organizational structure with an organizational committee, senate committee, and advisory council was likewise the same.

However, much like C70, the individual members of the organizational committees were almost all new. While the press reported that “the financial failure of the previous exhibitions of 1963 and

1953 need not be repeated” and that this was the reason for the new organizational committee, the truth was that a lot of the former organizational members had either retired, were too old to continue, or had passed away.123 Albert Lubisch and Henry David had retired in 1963 and 1966, respectively, while Karl Passarge had passed away in 1967. The new cohort of organizers was much younger and some of them had come of age during the postwar period. They had different

121 “erläuterte Hamburgs Bemühungen, such als Kongressstadt zu profileren, und hob die Bedeutung der IGA als ‘Visitenkarte’ der Hansestadt hervor.” Kristina Vagt, “‘Käpt’n Blume lädt Euch alle herzlich ein…’ Die Inszenierung Hamburgs auf der Internationalen Gartenbauausstellung 1973,” in 19 Tage Hamburg: Ereignisse und Entwicklungen der Stadtgeschichte seit den fünfziger Jahren, ed. Christoph Strupp (Hamburg: Dölling und Galitz Verlag, 2012), pgs. 175-186, here pg. 175. 122 “Senator Eckström verteidigt IGA-Planung. Aus Zeitmangel: Mehrheit paukte das Project durch,” Hamburger Abendblatt, November 6, 1969. 123 Werner Lüchow, “Nächste IGA mit neuen Männern und neuen Ideen,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 5, 1966.

Chapter Five 257 ideas about what made a succesful city or exhibition, and they wished to present Hamburg in a new and modern light. Karl Passarge’s replacement was Dr. Gerhard Weber, who was appointed in as IGA Chairman in late-1965 at the age of 49.124 Weber was born in East Prussia and studied law. He came to Hamburg by way of Berlin in 1945 and for the next twenty years served in many different functions in the city administration, from the State Chancellery to the Department of Food and Agriculture to the Department of Transportation. He also briefly served as legal and financial adviser to Haile Selassie in Ethiopia from 1950 to 1953.125 In November 1970, however, Weber suddenly passed away. A few days later, on December 1, 1970, the Hamburg Senate appointed his replacement: Dr. Friedel Gütt. Gütt, also a law graduate, was even younger than Weber, at just 37 years of age.126 It would be under Gütt’s direction, that IGA’73’s focus on entertainment and urban conviviality came to full bloom.

IGA’73’s Senate-Committee was again chaired by the mayor, which was Herbert

Weichmann until 1969, when he was replaced by Peter Schultz. The committee’s most important member was the Hamburg Senator for Food and Agriculture, Wilhelm Eckström (SPD), who held this post in cabinets under mayors Weichmann and Schultz. There were also a few organizational continuities. Ernst Schröder was still the President of the Central Association of German

Vegetable, Fruit and Horticulture.127 Karl Plomin, main garden architect, was likewise involved once again. IGA’73 would be his third and final IGA. Plomin was assisted by Ulrich Brien, a new face, who was responsible for the “overall garden management” (gartenbaufachlichen Leitung).

Brien was born in Koßlin in 1928 (just like Passarge) and had studied in Hanover, receiving his

124 “IGA 73 wird eine kurzlebige Schau,” Hamburger Abendblatt, June 10, 1969. 125 “IGA-Planer Dr. Weber gestorben,” Hamburger Abendblatt, November 24, 1970. 126 “Neuer IGA-Chef aus dem Rathaus,” Hamburger Abendblatt, December 1, 1970; “Entscheidung: Jetzt offiziell Chef der IGA,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 20, 1971. 127 Werner Lüchow, “Nächste IGA mit neuen Männern und neuen Ideen,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 5, 1966.

Chapter Five 258 diploma in 1956. He opened up his own garden design business in Halstenbek in 1962 which he ran until he was recruited by the City of Hamburg for IGA’73 in 1968.128

The choice for the location was subject to some debate. The Hamburg Senate considered holding the IGA’73 in Klein Flottbek, in Niendorfer Gehege, the Boberger Dunes, or in the

Stadtpark in City Nord, away from downtown where more room was available.129 However, they eventually settled on Planten un Blomen, as the required infrastructural changes and construction of exhibition halls at a new site would become too expensive, and the downtown location of the park suited the organizers’ aims of wanting to liven up the city.130 After the financial failure of

IGA’63 the budget for IGA’73 was restricting, and Planten un Blomen already had much of the necessary infrastructure for necessary for an IGA. After two significant expansions and redevelopments over the previous twenty years, Planten un Blomen was one of the most “modern and interesting leisure facilities in Europe,” and suited the needs for the IGA’73 quite well.131

By keeping the location the same the Hamburg Senate shaved 18 million marks off the budget, leaving the organizers with around 57 million.132 Despite the smaller budget, the IGA executive committee still went ahead with extensive renovations, closing Planten and Blomen for two years.133 The park’s lake was expanded and its fountains restored. New paved and wider footpaths were installed to accommodate the large number of expected visitors.134 The old novelty train route, constructed for IGA’53 and begrudgingly left in place for IGA’63, was torn up and

128 “IGA-Chef für 1973,” Hamburger Abendblatt, December 31, 1971. 129 StaHH 614-3/11_3, “Kurz-Protokoll über die 32. Sitzung der Gesamtleitung am 4. 10. 1961,” 6. 130 StaHH, 377-10 II_700-76.00, various documents. 131 Brigitte Wormbs, “IGA 73 in Hamburg: Wohin mit all der Gärten Lust?” Die Zeit, April 27, 1973. In the end, the exhibition grounds included Planten un Blomen Park, the botanical gardens, and the small and large wallanlagen, as well as the area around the Bismarck monument to the south across the East-West Straße (today the Ludwig Erhard Straße). Collectively, this meant that IGA’73 spanned over 56 acres. “IGA’73: Internationale Gartenbauausstellung von 27. April bis 7. Oktober 1973”, Der Eppendorfer, Nr.1, January 1973, 1. 132 “IGA 73 wird eine kurzlebige Schau,” Hamburger Abendblatt, June 10, 1969. 133 Andrew C. Theokas, Grounds for Review: The Garden Festival in Urban Planning and Design (Liverpool: Liverpool university Press, 2004), 61. 134 Ibid., 62.

Chapter Five 259 replaced. Sponsored by the Danish LEGO® company, the new train route was significantly longer

– 5.9 kilometers, up from 1.5 kilometers – and traversed the entire park as hostesses informed passengers about the park designs and the exhibition’s specific features.135 The Orchid Café and the original Dammtorbahnhof entrance buildings, both constructed for the Low German Garden

Show (Niederdeutschen Gartenschau) in 1935, as well as the Philipsturm (designed by Bernhard

Hermkes), were demolished to make room for new developments. The most significant of these was the new Congress Centrum Hamburg (CCH) and the 118-metre tall Plaza Hotel (now the

Radisson Blu Hamburg).136 The construction of the CCH did not come out of the IGA’73 budget – with a price tag of 130 million Marks it was too expensive for that – but its opening was planned to coincide with the horticultural event.137

The Congress Centre and the Plaza Hotel, designed by Jost Schramm, were opened by

Gustav Heinemann on April 14, 1973, and required 38,000 cubic meters of concrete, 4,800 tons of steel, and consisted of 17 congress rooms, fitting anywhere from 25 to 3,000 people each.138

While the building solidified Hamburg’s position as a city of fairs and trade shows, its design seemed to ignore calls for a more livable environment. In fact, although visually different, its architectural brutalism was more in line with the trends of the fifties than the new direction that

C70 and IGA’73 pointed to. Environmental action groups, moreover, identified the CCH and the

Plaza Hotel as being at the forefront of the assault against the sensibilities of the 1970s. Critics claimed that they reduced Planten un Blomen Park to “a front garden for the trade fair buildings.”

135 Dirk Oetzmann, Die Hamburger Schmalspurbahnen: IGA- und Parkbahnen, Ottensener und Wandsbeker Industriebahnen, Trümmerbahnen, Feldbahnen und andere (Hamburg: Verein Verkehrsamateure und Museumbahn, 2010), 14-19. 136 “Jeder möchte den Durchbruch bis zur Elbe, aber Geld ist knapp,” Hamburger Abendblatt, December 20, 1969. 137 Der Spiegel, “Baumarkt Preise,” July 20, 1970. 138 “größte Tagungsmaschine Europas” “Kongresse: Ein Volk geht aug Spesenreise,” in Der Spiegel, 15 (April 1973); Hamburg Messe und Congress, “650 Jahre Messen in Hamburg,” 6.

Chapter Five 260

Accordingly, they mockingly referred to Planten un Blomen as Platten und Beton, or “plates and concrete.”139

The park itself was adorned with pavilions for thirty-four participating nations, the highest number yet for a Hamburg IGA. Individual submissions included 20,000 tulips from the

Netherlands and 70,000 pansies from Japan. The West German contribution, organized by the

ZVG, consisted of a large pavilion in a bright yellow balloon tent. It had a wide scope, displaying information on anything that “grows and blooms” in Germany. In all, there were 112 separate attractions, including the new cypress pond, the Mediterranean terraces, and the “Garden on the

Road” pavilion, a large landscaped concrete surface that crossed the Marseille street to connect the

Botanical Gardens with Planten un Blomen. Like C70, moreover, IGA’73 partly looked like an amusement park, featuring mini-golf, a Ferris wheel, a merry-go-round, a roller-skating rink, and a traffic park. On the main lake people could remotely steer miniature boats, just like at C70’s

Havodam. The park was also outfitted with paddle boats, table tennis, slot machines, and trampolines, all adding to the atmosphere of a fair ground.140 Indeed, some of the national pavilions were large playgrounds, as was the case for both the Danish and Swedish submissions.141

In line with the IGA’73’s attempt at broader appeal and emphasis on conviviality, Friedel

Gütt and the executive committee partnered with professional advertising firms to promote the event.142 One of its main results was an official mascot: Captain Flower (Käpt’n Blume), officially announced by Senator Wilhelm Eckström in early May 1971. Designed by Hamburg graphic artist

Ulrich W. Kanngiesser, the “captain” paid homage to Hamburg’s maritime traditions while its cartoonish face, resplendent with curly beard and a pipe, signaled the fun attitude the IGA

139 Matthias Iken, “Hamburgs blühende Gärten: Von Planten bis Blomen,” Hamburger Abendblatt, April 15, 2013. 140 “Der ideale Kurs durch die IGA,” Hamburger Abendblatt, April 28, 1973. 141 “Ibid. 142 Werner Lüchow, “Nächste IGA mit neuen Männern und neuen Ideen,” Hamburger Abendblatt, January 5, 1966.

Chapter Five 261 organizers sought to project. Paul O. Vogel, head of the Hamburg Press Office, called Captain

Flower “a humorous self-reflection, which arouses surprise and sympathy.”143 Captain Flower was also reminiscent of Johnny Ahoy, the sailor character created by comedian and actor Johnny

Kraaykamp as a mascot for Rotterdam’s Ahoy’ exhibition in 1950 (see Chapter Two). Like Johnny

Ahoy, Captain Flower was brought to life by an actor, the local accordionist Carl Bay. In full costume, Bay performed songs such as the “Captain Flower Song” and “Sir, Captain (I can’t bear

[to see] any more water)” (Herr Kapitän (Soviel Wasser Kann Ich Einfach Nicht Mehr Sehn)). The mascot was not only to be the symbol of IGA’73, but a commercial brand for the city of Hamburg, for use in posters and TV advertisements. Eckström hoped that large companies would adopt

Captain Flower and feature him in their advertising campaigns.144

The creation of Captain Flower points to more than just the desire for advertisement and promotion. It points to IGA’73’s concern for giving the city a friendlier image. Like Rotterdam,

Hamburg struggled with its image. Eberhard Weise, writing for the Hamburger Abendblatt, pointed this out in April 1973.

Since the last IGA in Hamburg ten years ago, our world and immediate environment has become grey. We now have to live with violence, terror, demonstrations, intolerance, and financial misery. In spite of our prosperity discontent and unease are spreading in the private and domestic, as well as in professional life. That what makes life worth living is given new meaning at the IGA’73. It gives an uplifting emphasis, not only to the individual, but to the whole city. In the sea of flowers between the Dammtor and the Millerntor is the blue flower of Romantics for which even the greatest naysayer has yearned.145

143 “Hamburg das ist auch Käpt’n Blume,” Hamburger Abendblatt, May 8, 1971. 144 Ibid. 145 Eberhard Weise, “Landschaft der Freude,” Hamburger Abendblatt Friday April 27, 1973; “Seit der letzten IGA in Hamburg vor zehn Jahren ist unsere weite Welt und engere Umwelt grauer geworden. Wir haben zu leben mit der Gewalt, mit Terror, Demonstration, Intoleranz, Finanzmiseren. Trotz des Wohlstandes breitet sich Mißmut und Unbehagen aus, im privaten, häuslichen wie im beruflichen Bereich. …was das Leben lebenswert macht, bekommt die IGA’73 einen ganz neuen Sinn. Sie setz einen beschwingten Akzent nicht nur für den einzelnen, sondern für diese ganze Stadt. Und in dem ganzen Blütenmeer zwischen Dammtor und Millerntor wächst auch die blaue Blume der Romantik, nach der selbst die lautesten Neinsager nicht aufgehört haben, sich zu sehnen, auch wenn sie das empört als Unterstellung von sich weisen.” “Ein buntes Blütenmeer lockt in allen Gartenanlagen und Hallen,” Hamburger Abendblatt, April 27, 1973.

Chapter Five 262

Aside from a gift for hyperbole, Weise emphasized that both C70 and IGA’73 had to deal with the changing times. The blue flower – a reference to Novalis’ novel Heinrich von Offerdingen – represented the romantic longing for nature.146 Weise implied that science and technology were unable to deliver basic human needs. While some have seen both IGA’63 and IGA’73 as part of the “long 1960s,” it was clear that in 1973 the world of the early 1960s was gone.147 At the opening ceremonies, mayor Schulz even spoke of a “crisis of the inner city” caused by the rapid reconstruction after the Second World War.148 He bemoaned the lack of attention to building on a human scale and stressed the need for recreation and green space. President Gustav Heinemann added that he hoped that the renewed park space created by IGA’73 would be the “lungs of the city” and provide attractive places for recreation.149 The choice of words was interesting. They directly referenced Fritz Schumacher, who had described parks in this way in his work Das Werden einer Wohnstadt (1932), an early argument for the livability of the city (hence its title, Wohnstadt, or living city / city to live [in].)

In this light, the IGA’73 organizational committee also tried to liven up the downtown area of the city to give it a friendlier image. The IGA committee also organized an “Art Avenue”

(Kunstallee), which ran from the city’s central station towards the entrance of the IGA. Along the route were street performers and art installations, including a giant Batman statue, a seven-metre tall metronome, a bright orange sculpture called the ‘Cyclops’, and a plastic tunnel, designed by

Friedrich Gräsel.150 Even the local transit company, decorated its city busses and ferries with large

146 Julia Perrey Beatte, Schumann’s Dichterliebe and early Romantic Poetics: Fragmentation and Desire (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 88. 147 Kristina Vagt, Politik durch die Blume, makes the claim that IGA’73 is best understood in the context of the ‘long- 1960s.’ pg. 223. 148 Kristina Vagt, “‘Käpt’n Blume lädt Euch alle herzlich ein…’ Die Inszenierung Hamburgs auf der Internationalen Gartenbauausstellung 1973,” in 19 Tage Hamburg: Ereignisse und Entwicklungen der Stadtgeschichte seit den fünfziger Jahren, ed. Christoph Strupp (Hamburg: Dölling und Galitz Verlag, 2012), pgs. 175-186, here pg. 176. 149 StaHH, 371-16 II_2680, “Ansprache von Bundespräsident Gustav W. Heinemann bei der Eröffnung der Internationalen Gartenbauausstellung 1973 am 24.4.1973.” 150 “Durch die Röhre: Plastik im Straßenverkehr: Eine bunte ‘Kunstallee” weist den Weg zur Hamburger Gartenbau- Austellung.” Der Spiegel, Nr.23, June 4, 1973, 156.

Chapter Five 263 cartoon flowers in honour of the IGA. The organizers sought to highlight Hamburg’s sensitivity to changing societal demands in other ways, too. In an attempt to address the environmental concerns that had grown ever more prominent since the conclusion of IGA’63, the organization of IGA’73 decided to show off how clean the water of the Inner-Alster was. Pavilions showed the various

“nobile fish species” that called the Alster home, emphasizing the healthy environmental qualities of Hamburg’s inner-lake. The connection, as always, was made to lived experience and quality of life, however. The pavilion stressed that the water was safe for bathing in the summer, and served as a skating rink in the winter.151 As part of the IGA pavilions, organizers also proposed to show various species of water lilies from all over the world in the Inner-Alster along the New

Jungfernstieg and the Ballindamm.152

IGA’73 also coincided with larger Hamburg municipal initiatives. The second week of the exhibition saw “Fun-Game-Week” (Spaß-Spiel-Woche), wherein the Hamburger Shopping Centre was decorated with giant paper flowers and kids could enjoy performances by popular bands and singers.153 It clearly highlighted that things other than economic prowess mattered. This was highlighted by an article in the newspaper Die Zeit, entitled “Not for Sale: Love and Tenderness”

(Nicht zu Kaufen: Liebe und Zärtlichkeit). The article proclaimed that the municipal program

Hamburg: City with a Heart for Children, which had been designed to liven up the innter-city and make it more kid-friendly, would deliver things that money could not buy: “love and tenderness, protection and fun for the child [in the] big city.”154 It was a not-so-subtle reference to the fact that

151 “Bal is test geschafft: Baden in der klaren Binnenalster,” Hamburger Abendblatt, April 1, 1972. 152 Ibid. 153 The “Hamburger Shopping Centre” refers to the Hamburger Meile on the Hamburger Straße, to the northwest of downtown. Kristina Vagt, “‘Käpt’n Blume lädt Euch alle herzlich ein…’ Die Inszenierung Hamburgs auf der Internationalen Gartenbauausstellung 1973,” in 19 Tage Hamburg: Ereignisse und Entwicklungen der Stadtgeschichte seit den fünfziger Jahren, ed. Christoph Strupp (Hamburg: Dölling und Galitz Verlag, 2012), pgs. 175-186, here pg. 181. 154 “Liebe und Zärtlichkeit, Schutz und Spaß für das Großstadtkind.” “Nicht zu Kaufen: Liebe und Zärtlichkeit,” Die Zeit, March 30, 1973.

Chapter Five 264 while recovery might have delivered prosperity, in both Hamburg and Rotterdam, what was missing was the experience, livability, and quality of life.

The City with a Heart for Children initiative featured events and entertainment for children throughout the duration of the IGA. It showed that Hamburg was not just an economic machine, but a highly livable place, appropriate for the needs and desires of the 1970s. Every evening there was a performance of Pippi Longstocking and the stage, which was modelled after Pippi’s home,

Villa Villekula, and was open for kids to explore in between performances.155 There were also many musical performances, including the “Blue Boys” (Blaue Jungs), from the Muzikkorps of the Hamburg Police Department.156 In his announcement address for the program, mayor Schulz stated:

“This administration wants to emphasize how seriously we take the task of actively working towards improving the value of life in the city, the quality of life in Hamburg, and not merely talk about it. We must put our words into actions and Hamburg should not only use the needs of the economy, the needs of the port, trade and industry to guide its actions. It is all about the living environment of the people, and not only working people, not only adults, but especially the children. We need to create opportunities for them in which they can bloom and develop. All of this cannot be the responsibility of the state alone, not only the problem of ministries and government. Rather, it is a challenge to all citizens to work towards ensuring that children in our city, in the world of adults, can develop in a versatile manner that meets the very specific requirements for the quality of life of children.”157

The language here is telling. Just like the C70 guide book, which proclaimed that “the industrial developments of Rotterdam … is being restricted … to preserve human prosperity within an

155 “Der ideale Kurs durch die IGA,” Hamburger Abendblatt, April 28, 1973. 156 Ibid. 157 …aber auch der Verwaltung verdeutlichen, wie wichtig wir die Aufgabe nehmen, über den Lebenswert dieser Stadt, über die Qualität des Lebens in Hamburg nicht nur zu sprechen, sondern dafür vor allem auch konkret zu arbeiten. Dabei müssen wir die Einsicht in Taten umsetzen, daß Hamburg nicht nur die Bedürfnisse der Wirtschaft, nicht nur die Bedürfnisse von Hafen, Handel und Industrie als Richtschnur seines Handelns nehmen darf. Es geht vor allem um den Lebensraum der Menschen, und das sind nicht nur die arbeitenden Menschen, nicht nur die Er wachsenen, sondern gerade auch die Kinder. Wir müssen Möglichkeiten für sie schaffen, in denen sie sich entfalten und entwickeln können Dies alles kann nicht allein Aufgabe des Staates sein, nicht allein Problem eines Ressorts oder einer Behörde. Es ist vielmehr eine Herausforderung an alle Bürger, darauf hinzuwirken, daß Kinder sich in unserer Stadt, in der Welt der Erwachsenen, vielseitig entfalten können und zwar in einer Weise, die den ganz be sonderen Ansprüchen an die Qualität des Lebens von Kindern entspricht.” “Hamburg: Stadt mit Herz für Kinder,” Der Eppendorfer, No.2 (February 1973), 1.

Chapter Five 265 industrial society”, so did Schultz announce that developments in Hamburg would not be driven solely by economic factors.158

Schultz speech was a clear demonstration of the shifting priorities in the early 1970’s. The concerns that had driven IGA’53 and IGA’63, were no longer as pertinent. West Germany’s economy was booming and Hamburg’s trade was increasing year over year, even if it was severely hamstringed the the division of Europe.159 Internationally, too, the country was able to “come to terms with its past,” hostile sentiments towards the Germans was on the decline, and IGA’73 was less a performance of outward friendliness like its predecessors had been. The election of Willy

Brandt in 1969 and the famous “Warsaw Kneeling” (Warschauer Kniefall), where Brandt knelt down at the monument to the victims of the Warsaw ghetto, did much to improve West Germany’s international standing. Indeed, as Valentin Rauer has demonstrated, Brandt’s kneeling marked a turning point in West Germany’s relationship with its own past and demonstrated to other countries that Germany felt remorse for what had happened during World War II. It was the first time this was outwardly expressed by a West German statesman.160 Rauer cites Dutch writer Cees

Noteboom, who expressed these feelings exactly: “It was obvious that every part of this body

[Brandt’s] felt something that wanted to be expressed – about guilt, penance, and infinite pain.”161

158 GAR 389_21, “Communicate ’70: mei-september 1970,” 8-9. “Nu onder andere de industriele ontwikkeling van Rotterdam heeft bijgedragen aan de welvaart, die Nederland een kwart eeuw na de bevrijding kent, komt er weerstand tegen een verdure industrialisatie. Begrijpelijk… Niet voor niets is Rotterdam het twistpunt in een discussie, die het welzijn van de mens in een geindustrialiseerde samenleving wil waarborgen.” 159 See: Christoph Strupp, “Das Tor zu Welt, die ‘Politik der Elbe’ und die EWG. Hamburger Europapolitik in den 1950er und 1960er Jahren,” in Themenportal Europäische Geschichte, Clio Online (2010): http://www.europa.clio- online.de/essay/id/artikel-35782010), 2. Also discussed in Chapter Two. 160 Valentin Rauer, “Symbols in Action: Willy Brandt’s kneefall at the Warsaw Memorial,” in Social Performance: Symbolic Action, Cultural Pragmatics, and Ritual, ed. Jeffrey C. Alexander, Bernhard Giesen, and Jason L. Mast (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), pgs. 257-282, here pg. 257. 161 Ibid.

Chapter Five 266

Conclusion:

This chapter looked at the two final major exhibitions hosted in Hamburg and Rotterdam.

C70 and IGA’73 were organized at a time when Rotterdam’s and Hamburg’s prosperity was in many ways at its peak, near the end of the postwar economic boom and at a time when its citizens were accustomed to a life of prosperity and thus made new demands of their social, cultural, political, and urban environments. Growing prosperity made increasingly prosperous citizens who were no longer concerned with “a job and a weekly wage” – that was taken for granted – but instead wanted a better quality of life: more leisure time, more experiences, and a better work-life balance.162 The focus on efficiency, rationality, and consumption –exactly the world that had been touted by the exhibitions in Hamburg and Rotterdam over the course of the preceding decade-and- a-half – was no longer seen as being in line with contemporary needs and desires. Akin to a hierarchy of needs, as soon as basic prosperity had been satisfied, other non-material aspects became more important.

162 Schuyt and Taverne, Dutch Culture from a European Perspective, 351.

Conclusion 267

Conclusion: Life in the Midst of Superlatives

This dissertation has employed exhibitions as a lens through which to gain insight into the period of postwar recovery in the cities of Rotterdam and Hamburg. It has explored seven major exhibitions in addition to ten smaller events which, as I have argued, collectively functioned as stages upon which the process of recovery was actively performed. As this dissertation has shown, the ways in which recovery was narrated, what was highlighted, and what was left out of view, shifted over the course of thirty years. The first two postwar decades stressed a particular form of high modernism that centered around ideas of renewal based on science and technology. Experts and technocrats were to guide the cities and country into a new world of progress and prosperity.

In Rotterdam, this progress was centered on radical physical renewal and technological innovation, while technocrats in Hamburg focused on economics and peaceful international relations. After the mid-1960s this changed. Exhibitions in Rotterdam and Hamburg, rather than focusing on radical renewal or economic growth, began to pay more attention to lived experience and quality of life.

Another way to interpret this change is as a shift from one particular narrative of modernity to another. American literary scholar Marshall Berman has described how the 1960s witnessed a competition between two visions of modernity. One, which he called the “expressway world,” presented a high-modernist vision of mobility, science, technology, and rationality. The other, which he referred to as the “shout in the street,” emphasized a modernity based on experience. It advocated the small-scale, and the local as expressed by urban reformers such as Jane Jacobs.1

1 Marshall Berman, All that is Solid Melts into Air: The Experience of Modernity (New York: Penguin, 1988), 312- 329.

Conclusion 268

This same tension, in many ways, existed in Rotterdam and Hamburg, as an emphasis on the

“expressway world” gradually lost favour to the “shout in the street.” In Rotterdam, Ahoy’, E55 and the Floriade, organized between 1950 and 1960, all emphasized a kind of high-modernity, a functionalism that touted science and technology as the harbingers of a prosperous future and the purveyors of utopia. The horticultural exhibitions in Hamburg in 1953 and 1963 also professed a strong faith in technocracy, highlighting Hamburg’s (and indeed West Germany’s) focus on economic development. Starting in the mid 1960s, and fully developing in the early 1970s, the emphasis of exhibitions changed. The shiny “expressway world” presented by the exhibitions had turned tawdry. The desirable future was no longer desired.

The exhibitions in Rotterdam and Hamburg were elite projects. They served as a means for political elites to both re-establish, and subsequently maintain, power and legitimacy as they sought to remould the identities of Rotterdam and Hamburg in a new postwar world. For businesses, too, the exhibitions afforded chances to manage their reputations. Businessmen, politicians, and local citizens alike wished to forget about the recent terrible past and to move on.

In this sense, “forgetting,” as scholars like Paul de Man have suggested, was a central aspect of modernity.2 For de Man, modernity meant the “desire to wipe out whatever came earlier, in the hope of reaching at last a point that could be called the true present, a point of origin that mark[ed] a new departure.”3 Berman similarly argued that a defining characteristic of the “expressway world” was its “power to blow away the past.”4

Chapter One was all about this desire to forget. Exhibitions in both Rotterdam and

Hamburg emphasized a narrative of renewal and of divorcing the postwar city from its wartime

2 For de Man, of course, foretting also had the political function of suppressing the memories of his own past. 3 Paul de Man, Blindness and Insight: Essays in the Rhetoric of Contemporary Criticism (New York: Oxford University Press, 1971), 148. 4 Berman, All that is Solid Melts into Air, 332.

Conclusion 269 antecedent. The memory of the war also accounts for the difference between the two cities. The chapter explored how the particular experience of the Second World War informed the public presentation of recovery, which narratives were highlighted, and which were forgotten. The war experiences also dictated the thematic emphasis of exhibitions, ensuring that Rotterdam focused heavily on a brash new world of rationality, science, and progress, while Hamburg’s recovery was more subdued. Its exhibitions focused on technocratic economic issues that were solvable and above all stayed away from contentious political topics.

The exhibitions of 1950 and 1953, examined in Chapter Two, continued this trend.

Rotterdam’s elites embraced a bombastic narrative of reinvention while those in Hamburg focused on making the city an economic partner and a friendly Cold War ally. The first large international postwar exhibitions hosted in Rotterdam and Hamburg marked the reentry of the cities onto the world stage after the Second World War. Specifically, they drew attention to the recovery of their ports and trade capabilities. To domestic audiences, this same narrative of success and recovery was used to legitimate the choices the local elites had made vis-à-vis the process of reconstruction.

Ahoy’ in particular reinforced a narrative that secured public support by explaining and justifying what might have been seen – in its unabashed diversion of resources – as a skewed approach to postwar recovery.

As Chapter Three argued, the astounding economic and industrial recovery of Hamburg and Rotterdam in the early 1950s was presented, explicitly or implicitly, by their elites as a precursor to private prosperity. They were right in this prediction. After 1951, Western European economies took off. Municipal investments shifted to focus on civic infrastructure, real incomes steadily rose, and citizens entered a period of mass prosperity.5 This chapter examined the far-

5 Victoria de Grazia, Irresistible Empire: America’ Advance Through Twentieth-Century Europe (Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2005), 348.

Conclusion 270 reaching consequences of mass prosperity on the goals, values, and desires of postwar citizens in both Rotterdam and Hamburg, highlighting that growth and prosperity was a cultural process that changed Dutch and West German societies.

Increased prosperity had wide-ranging and profound impacts on postwar society. This is when Berman’s “expressway world” reached its pinnacle; it was the space age, the jet age, the nuclear age.6 As citizens grew more prosperous, their priorities became focused on improving the quality of their everyday lives. A different kind of modernity now emerged, one that directly confronted the “expressway world.” This modernity of the small-scale, the local, and the intimate

– what Berman described as the “shout in the street.” Starting in the mid 1960s, this stance gained momentum in Rotterdam and Hamburg.

Chapter Four showed an early shift towards the “shout in the street”. Although the

“expressway world” had reigned supreme at the Floriade in 1960, the IGA’63, organized just three years later, signaled a shift with its critical edge. This was most prominently demonstrated in its treatment of environmental issues. In the previous twenty years, Hamburg, and West Germany, had gone through a period of unprecedented economic growth, which had put tremendous strain on the natural environment. Exhibits dedicated to the Charter of Mainau, a document dedicated to environmental preservation, showed IGA’63’s more critical engagement with the narrative of postwar recovery and renewal. Similarly, during the organization of the event, there was public outcry over the proposed construction of a large observation tower, which many people considered to be a “monument to gluttony” and not in the best interest of the city. IGA’63 was in many ways one of the first instances during which the narrative that had been so engrained during the previous decade was challenged. This trend only grew stronger as the 1960s progressed, as was explored in

Chapter Five.

6 Berman, All that is Solid Melts into Air, 331.

Conclusion 271

Chapter Five discussed the retrospective exhibitions of the mid 1960s, as well as the final postwar exhibition in the early 1970s. They focused on local audiences and promulgated a drastically different vision of modernity. Modernity as conceived in the first postwar decades had now lost its shine. Prosperity had changed its meanings. The emphasis on science and technology in the exhibitions was now visibly reduced (though not completely gone); the local and the small scale now took precedence. In 1971, the Rotterdam-based journalist W.G. Werkman astutely summed up the growing sense of “disappointment” with “expressway modernity” and the desire for something else:

How incredible it may sound, Rotterdam is becoming an awkward city. The dreams of 1940 have been expunged, the nostalgia for the ugly has disappeared, one gets used to life in the midst of the superlatives (oil tankers, Feijenoord, Euromast, Rhine River, Unilever, Groothandelgebouw, Kleinpolderplein, Maasvlakte et tutti quanti) quickly, the satisfaction with the creation of the new inner city gets a critical tinge. ... [people] are becoming aware that something is faltering in their city, that some things should have been done differently, that something is missing, and that not all progress was an improvement.”7

Indeed, Werkman had put his finger on something that was prevalent both within Rotterdam and beyond it. As author Jonathan Raban put it in 1974, “We are so used to looking for Utopia, only to discover that we have created Hell.”8 It is clear here that ideas about modernity in both

Rotterdam and Hamburg had shifted as prosperity had worked to change people’s needs and desires over time.

7 “Hoe ongelooflijk het ook moge klinken, Rotterdam is bezig een lastige stad te worden. De dreun van 1940 is uitgewerkt, de nostalgie naar het lelijke is verdwenen, het leven te midden der superlatieven (olietankers, Feijenoord, Euromast, Rijnvaart, Unilever, Groothandelsgebouw, Kleinpolderplein, Maasvlakte et tutti quanti) went spoedig, de voldoening over het onstaan van de nieuwe binnenstad krijgt een kritisch randje. … zij [Rotterdammers] worden zich bewust dat er iets hapert aan hun stand, dat sommige dingen anders hadden gemoeten, dat zij iets missen en dat niet alle voortgang een verbetering is.” G. Werkman, “Spiegel van de Week,” Bouw: Centraal Weekblad voor het Bouwwezen in Nederland en België, Vol.26, No. 16, (May 15, 1971), 769. 8 Jonathan Raban, Soft City (London: Collins Harvill, 1988), 17.

Conclusion 272

Questions for Future Research:

This dissertation is the story about the shift of one particular narrative modernity to another.

In moving across three postwar decades, I have identified how local, regional, and national peculiarities and shifted and fractured the performances on display at exhibitions in Rotterdam and

Hamburg. In doing so, this study has built on existing scholarship on exhibitions and taken a transnational and comparative approach. A comparative study, moreover, allows us to identify local, regional and national differences, and to explore how these changed over time.

Beyond Rotterdam and Hamburg, there are many other exhibitions that deserve their own study. Although large international exhibitions, and especially world’s fairs, have received a good deal of scholarly attention, there is a subgroup of exhibitions that are international in focus but which also represent strong regional or national particularities. The exhibitions discussed in this dissertation are just one example. In the immediate postwar period, other examples would be

Stockholm’49, a sports-exhibition, Berlin’s Interbau’57, which focused on housing development,

IVA’65 in Munich, which specialized in transportation and transport technology, as well as Turin’s

Expo’61, better known as Italia’61, which was conceived as an international labour exhibition but was used by organizers to celebrate the centennial of Italian unification. 9 The scholarship on these exhibitions is exceptionally slim and offers plenty of opportunities for expansion. These studies could offer further insight into the development of postwar culture in specific nationalist contexts.

Within the context of Rotterdam and Hamburg, there is also plenty of room for continued scholarly investigation. For one, the organizers behind these exhibitions are under-researched in the current historiography. I have tried to incorporate as many of the actors as possible, but their specific biographical details have often disappeared from the historical record. Particularly the

9 Others would be: Lyon 1949, Lille 1951, Jerusalem 1953, Rome 1953, Naples 1954, Turin 1955, Helsingborg 1955, Beit Dagan 1956, and even San Antonio 1968.

Conclusion 273 periods 1933-1945 / 1940-1945 are veritable black holes in the biographies of the political and business elites behind the exhibitions, as sources are missing and biographers or obituaries often skip these years in their entirety.

This study could also be expanded temporally. It concluded with the exhibitions of the early 1970s, which marked significant changes in the social, cultural, economic, and political landscapes of postwar Rotterdam and Hamburg. The organizers themselves self-consciously concluded the period of “reconstruction exhibitions” at this time. C70 and IGA’73, however, inaugurated a time of renewal, internationalization, and democratization – themes that were reflected in the subsequent festivals and exhibitions in both cities. Although separate from the period between the 1950s and early 1970s, an exploration of the exhibitions in the late 1970s,

1980s, and 1990s could nevertheless provide a fruitful extension to this project.

Throughout the late-1970s exhibitions and festivals in Rotterdam focused on cultural events and entertainment. The Film International (later the International Film Festival Rotterdam,

IFFR), the Poetry International and the Architecture International were all inaugurated during this time. The next major exhibition akin to C70 was organized in 1988. Rotterdam’88: The City as a

Stage (Rotterdam ’88: De Stad als Podium) extended both the ideas of entertainment and cultural value in the city center, but also elaborated on the ideas inaugurated by C70 about the city as being a place for both work and leisure. Like C70, the event used locations throughout the inner-city were used, and responded to contemporary concerns and the changing cultural identity of

Rotterdam. Just as the exhibitions of the postwar era, Rotterdam’88 succeeded in bringing positive attention to the city.

In Hamburg, IGA’73 was the last horticultural exhibition to be organized in the city until

2013, when it hosted an Internationale Gartenschau (IGS). The 2013 IGS is probably too recent an event to be valuable for a historical study. It was also organized in a very different context than

Conclusion 274 were the events between 1953 and 1973, to the point where meaningful comparisons or parallels may be difficult or impossible to make. Nevertheless, tropes from older IGAs can be seen at the

2013 event. Organized around themes, the exhibition was divided into seven sections, including a

“world of movement,” a “world of ports,” and a “world of continents,” highlighting Hamburg’s

(and indeed the Berlin Republic’s) desire for international status, as well as the centrality of global trade for Hamburg’s identity. The exhibition’s motto, moreover – “80 Gardens Around the World”

– highlighted an internationalism that was foundational to IGA’53 and IGA’63. There was also a continued emphasis on entertainment, and the exhibition featured a large pool as well as a monorail. In addition, more comprehensive research on Hamburg’s trade show history can inform scholars more deeply about the development of West Germany’s postwar, and indeed post-1970s, consumer society.

As this dissertation has shown, exhibitions are exceptionally useful historical events for reflecting upon larger societal processes and developments. Throughout the postwar period, exhibitions were used as “boosters” and promotional tools, aiming to capture the attention of both national and international audiences. What was emphasized in exhibitions at different points in the postwar period spoke to the local political, social, and cultural development of postwar Hamburg and Rotterdam. Through their organizers, the exhibitions in each city produced, displayed, and naturalized a specific kind of postwar modernity based on a particular history. Above all, this dissertation has demonstrated that exhibitions after 1945 played an important role in the construction of a new postwar world. They facilitated the re-establishment of normalized trade relations and engagement within international political economies, enabled the re-legitimation of both political and business elites, and, perhaps most importantly, helped elicit public support for urban recovery projects.

Bibliography 275

Bibliography:

Archival Collections (Fonds Level):

Stadsarchief Rotterdam (formerly Gemeentearchief Rotterdam, GAR):

GAR 298: Archief van het Adviesbureau Stadsplan Rotterdam (ASRO)

GAR 315: Archiefbescheiden betreffende de tentoonstellingen Rotterdam-Ahoy’, E-55 en ‘Floriade’ te Rotterdam

GAR 317: Archief van de stitching Havenbelangen te Rotterdam

GAR 389: Archief van de Stichting Communicatie ’70 (Tentoonstelling ‘C70) te Rotterdam, 1967-1974

GAR 396: Archief Bouwpolitie

GAR 465-01: Archief Openbare Werken Gemeente Rotterdam

GAR 646: Kleiboer, Hoofdstuk Rotterdam 1965

GAR 1383: Archieven van de Dienst Sport en Recreatie Rotterdam en haar Rechtsvoorgangers

Staatsarchiv Hamburg (StaHH):

StaHH 321-3 I: Baubehörde I

StaHH 614 3/9: Internationale Gartenbauausstellung 1953

StaHH 614 3/11: Internationale Gartenbauausstellung 1963

StaHH 377-10-II: Internationale Gartenbauausstellung 1973

StaHH 710-1: Threse I

StaHH 371-16 II: Behörde für Wirtschaft und Verkehr

StaHH 317-10 II

Bibliography 276

StaHH 731-8: Karl Passarge

Forschungstelle für Zeitgeschichte in Hamburg (FZH):

FZH 361-0: Stadtebau Berichte 1970

FZH 361-2 I: Stadtebau Berichte I

FZH 361-2 II: Stadtebau Berichte II

National Archives, United Kingdom (Kew, NA):

NA FO1005_1718: Foreign Office, Hamburg Regional Intelligence Office, Monthly Intelligence Summaries, 1947

Erasmus University Library, Rotterdam:

Jaaroverzicht Bouwactiviteit, 1949-1965

Rotterdam Bouwt: Het Maandblad Gewijd aan de Wederopbouw van Rotterdam, 1946-1956

Staats- und Universitätsbibliothek Hamburg, Carl von Ossietzsky:

Ausschußberichte der Hamburger Bürgerschaft, 1951-1973

Hansestadt Hamburg, Verhandlungen Bürgerschaft und Senat, 1946-1973

Haushaltsplan der Hansestadt Hamburg, 1946-1973

Freie und Hansestadt Hamburg Baubehörde. Schriften zum Bau- Wohnungs-und Siedlungswesen, 1949-1965

Sitzungen der Bürgerschaft zu Hamburg im Jahre 1948-1963

Online and Print Newspapers and Periodicals: Algemeen Handelsblad

Bibliography 277

Amigoe di Curacao ANP Nieuwsbericht Arbeiter Zeitung Bauen + Wohnen Bauwelt Bouw Bouwen en Wonen De Banier De Gooi- en Eemlander De Koopvaardij De Nederlandse Werkgever De Oude Rotterdammer De Rotterdammer De Telegraaf De Tijd De Tijd / Maasbode De Tijd-Maasbode & Het Nieuwe Dagblad De Waarheid Der Eppendorfer Der Spiegel Hamburger Abendblatt Die Welt Die Zeit Forum Garten und Landschaft Gereformeerd Gezinsblad Haagsche Courant Hamburger Abendblatt Hamburger Echo Hamburger Schriften zum Bau-, Wohnungs- und Siedlungswesen Het Rotterdamsch Parool Het Vaderland: Het Volk: Het Vrije Volk Leeuwarder Courant, Limburgsch Dagblad Nieuwe Rotterdamse Courant Nieuwsblad van het Noorden NRC Handelsblad Reformatorisch Dagblad Rotterdam Bouwt Rotterdamsch Nieuwsblad The New Yorker The Science Newspaper

Bibliography 278

Rotterdams Jaarboekje “Beknopt overzicht van de voornaamste openbare werken in 1947.” Rotterdams Jaarboekje Series 5, Year 6 (1948): 115-123. “Openbare Werken.” Rotterdams Jaarboekje Series 06, Year 10 (1962): 79-98. Fockema, Andreae. “Anthonius Johannes Fibbe, 1916-1988.” Rotterdams Jaarboekje Series 09, Year 07 (1989): 131-134. Grimm, P.J. “Opmerkingen bij het bombardement op Rotterdam.” Rotterdams Jaarboekje Series 10, Year 03 (1995): 275-290. Meer, Z.Y. van der. “Dr. Ir. J.A. Ringers, 1885-1965.” Rotterdams Jaarboekje Series 07, Year 04 (1966): 276-278. Teychiné Stakenburg, A.J. “Ter Nagedachtenis, Mr. K.P. van der Mandele (1880-1975). Rotterdams Jaarboekje Series 08, Year 04 (1976): 103-108. Verseput, Jan. “Voorgeschiedenis en verloop van de Duitse aanval op Nederland, speciaal op Rotterdam, in mei 1940.” Rotterdams Jaarboekje, Series 06, Year 09 (1961): 116-139. Witteveen, W.G. “Beknopt overzicht van de voornaamste openbare werken in 1940 en 1941 voorbereid en uitgevoerd door den gemeentelijken technischen dienst en door particulieren.” Rotterdams Jaarboekje Series 04, Year 10 (1942): xli-liii Zweerink, Kim. “Het Park aan de Maas.” Rotterdams Jaarboekje Series 01, Year 01 (2009): 178- 201.

Websites: Bouwcentrum Rotterdam. http://www.bouwcentrum-rotterdam.nl/ Parlement en Politiek. http://www.parlement.com/id/vg09ll3yhtz9/p_j_pieter_oud

Audiovisual Materials: C70 Polygoon Documentaire. Produced by Polygoon-Profilti. 3 minutes, 1 seconds. The Netherlands Institute for Sound and Vision, 1970. (Also on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jWQlFqnufMk (accessed April 28, 2016)).

Tentoonstelling van de Maquette Nieuw Rotterdam. Produced by Polygoon-Profilti. 0 minutes, 50 seconds. Netherlands Institute for Sound and Vision, 1941.

Published Primary Sources: Anonymous (den Schrijver van ‘De Noordzee voor Amsterdam’). De Nieuwe Waterweg van Rotterdam naar Zee: met een Kaart van het Nieuwe Zeegat aan den Hoek van Holland. Rotterdam: P.M. Bazendijk, 1872. Backx, J. De Opbouw van Rotterdam. Rotterdam Series Hoe Bouwen Wij Rotterdam, #1. Rotterdam: Rotterdamse Gemeenschap, 1945.

Bibliography 279

Bogaarts, M.D. Parlementaire Geschiedenis van Nederland na 1945: Deel II: De Periode van het kabinet-Beel, 3 juli 1946 – 7 augustus 1948. Nijmegen: Gerard Noodt Instituut, 1996. Buchholtz, Rüdiger. “Griff in die Geschichte: Internationale Gartenbauausstellungen (IGA) 1953, 1963, und 1973 in Hamburg.” Verein für Hamburgische Geschichte. http://vfhg.de/bibliothek/118-gig1iga.html (Accessed: November 7, 2016). Domarus, Max. Hitler, Reden und Proklamationen, 1932-1945. Vol. 1. Wauconda: Blochazy- Carducci Publishing, 1990. Erhard, Ludwig. The Economics of Success. Translated by J.A. Arengo-Jones and D.J.S. Thomson. London: Thames and Hudson, 1963. Fisher Wend, and G.B. von Hartmann, eds. Deutschlands Beitrag zur Weltausstellung Brüssel 1958. Ein Bericht. 2 vols. Düsseldorf: Generalkommissar der Bundesrepublik Deutschland bei der Weltausstellung Brüssel 1958. Franke, Robert. Interzonale Ausstellung für Trümmerbeseitigung und Trümmerverwertung: Hamburg, Planten un blomen, 5. bis 27. Juli 1947. Hamburg: Messe- und Ausstellungs Gesellschaft, 1947. ------. Katalog: Unser täglich Brot: Ausstellung für Ernährung und Landwirtschaft, Hamburg 14. Mai bis 8 Juni 1947, Planten un Blomen. Hamburg: Messe- und Ausstellungs Gesellschaft, 1947. Gemeente Rotterdam, The W.W. Guide to Rotterdam: The New City Gateway to Europe. Baarn: The International Publishing Company Ltd. “The World’s Window, 1955. Hamburg Messe und Congress. “650 Jahre Messen in Hamburg.” Hamburg Messe und Congress. http://hamburg-messe.de/uploads/media/Historie_mit_Bildern.pdf Hanisch, Karl Heinz. “Der Geschichte der Internationalen Gartenbau-Ausstellung Hamburg 63 bis zur Eröffnung.” In Internationale Gartenbauausstellung Hamburg 1963. Hamburg: Kunst + Handwerk Verlag, 1963. Harris, Whitney R., ed. Tyranny on Trial: The Evidence at Nuremberg. Dallas: Southern Methodist University Press, 1954. Kayser, Georg. Die baupolizeilichen Vorschriften des Deutschen Reiches und Preussens, Reichsbaurecht und preussisches Landesbaurecht: Loseblatt-Sammlung aller einschlägen Gesetze Verordungen der Ministerialerlasse und Richtlinien. Mit Erläuterungen, Verweisungen und Sachverzeichnis. Munich: C.H. Beck, 1940. Kraaijvanger, Herman. Hoe Zal Rotterdam Bouwen. Rotterdam Series Hoe Bouwen Wij Rotterdam, #2. Rotterdam: Rotterdamse Gemeenschap, 1945. Lüth, Erich. Drei Jahre Arbeit für den Wiederaufbau der Freien und Hansestadt Hamburg: Nach Amtlichen Behördenberichten im Auftrage des Senats Zusammengestellt und Bearbeitet von Erich Lüth. Hamburg: Hans Christians Druckerei und Verlag, 1950. Meyer, Charles. “Preface.” In Ausstellungspark der Freien und Hansestadt Hamburg. Hamburg: Ausstellungsverlag Georg Michel, 1953. Montgomery, Bernard Law. The Memoirs of Field-Marschal the Viscount Montgomery of Alamein, K.G. Cleveland & New York: The World Publishing Company, 1958.

Bibliography 280

Passarge, Karl. Die Olympiade der Gärtner: Hamburgs Internationale Gartenbau-Ausstellung 1953. Hamburg: Schultheis, 1953. ------. ZEL: Zentralamt für Ernährung und Landwirtschaft in der britischen Zone 1945-1948. Ein Ruckblick. Hamburg, 1948. Schumacher, Fritz. Zum Wiederaufbau Hamburgs: Rede am Hamburger Rathaus am 10. Oktober 1945. Hamburg: J. Trautmann, 1945. Speer, Albert. Inside the Third Reich: Memoirs by Albert Speer. Translated by Richard and Clara Davison. London: The MacMillan Company, 1970. Troost, Gerdy. Das Bauen im Neuen Reich, Vol.1. Bayreuth: Gauverlag Bayerische Ostmark, 1938.

Secondary Sources: Aarts, Kees, and Maarten Arentsen. “Nuclear Power and Politics in the Netherlands.” In The Politics of Nuclear Energy in Western Europe, edited by Wolfgang C. Müller and Paul W. Thurner. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017, 215-234. Abelhauser, Werner. Die langen Fünfziger Jahre: Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft der Bundesrepublik Deutschland 1949-1966. Düsseldorf: Schwann, 1987. ------. The Dynamics of German Industry: Germany’s Path toward the New Economic and the American Challenge. New York: Berghahn Books, 2005. Adams, Julia, Elisabeth S. Clements, and Ann Shola, eds. Remaking Modernity: Politics, History, and Sociology. Durham: Duke University Press, 2005. Adri, Albert de la Bruhèze, ed. Manufacturing Technology, Manufacturing Consumers: The Making of Dutch Consumer Society. Amsterdam: Aksant, 2009. Ahonen, Pertti. After the Expulsion: West Germany and Eastern Europe, 1945-1990. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003. Allwood, John. The Great Exhibitions. London: Studio Vista, 1977 Almond, Gabriel A. and Sydney Verba. The Civic Culture: Political Attitudes and Democracy in Five Nations. London: Sage, 1989. Amenda, Lars, and Sonja Grünen. Tor zur Welt: Hamburg-Bilder und Hamburg-Werbung im 20 Jahrhundert. Hamburg: Dölling and Galitz, 2008. Andreassen, Rikke. Human Exhibitions: Race, Gender, and Sexuality in Ethnic Displays. New York: Routledge, 2016. Andritzsky, Michael. Labyrinth Stadt: Planung und Chaos im Städtebau: Ein Handbuch für Bewohner. Köln: M. DuMont Schauberg, 1975. Appadurai, Arjun. Modernity at Large: Cultural Dimensions of Globalization. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1996. Arblaster, Paul. A History of the Low Countries. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006. Arendt, Hannah. Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil. New York: Penguin [originally in 1963], 2006.

Bibliography 281

Ark, Bart van, Jakob de Haan, and Herman J. de Jong. “Characteristics of economic growth in the Netherlands during the postwar period.” In Economic Growth in Europe Since 1945, edited by Nicholas Crafts and Gianni Toniolo. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996, 290-328. Arnim, Tim von. “Und dan werde ich das größte Zeitungshaus Europas Bausen:” Der Unternehmer Axel Springer. Frankfurt: Campus Verlag, 2012. Arnold, Jörg, Dietmar Süss, and Malte Thiessen, eds. Luftkrieg. Erinnerungen in Deutschland und Europa. Göttingen: Wallstein, 2009. Ashworth, Gregory J., and Henk Voogd. Selling the City: Marking Approaches in Public Sector Urban Planning. New York: Bellhaven Press, 1990. Atkinson, Harriet. The Festival of Britain: A Land and its People. London: I.B. Taurus & Co., 2012. Auerbach, Jeffrey A., and Peter H. Hoffenberg, eds. Britain, the Empire, and the World at the Great Exhibition of 1851. New York: Routledge, 2016. Augé, Marc. Non-Places: Introduction to an Anthropology of Supermodernity (New York: Verso, 1995. Baaij, Hans. Rotterdam 650 Years: Fifty Years of Reconstruction. Antwerpen: Veen Publishers, 1990. Bahnsen, Uwe, and Kerstin von Stürmer. Die Stadt, die sterben sollte: Hamburg im Bombenkrieg, Juli 1943. Hamburg: Convent Verlag, 2003. ------. Hamburg: Stadtgeschichte 1945 bis heute. Erfurt: Sutton, 2012. Bajohr, Frank, Dorothee Wierling, and Maike Raap, eds. Zeitgeschichte in Hamburg: nachrichten aus der Forschunstelle für Zeitgeschichte in Hamburg. Hamburg: Forschunstelle für Zeitgeschichte in Hamburg, 2006. Bakker, H., and M. Bierman. Steden, Wegen, Ruimte: Op Weg Naar de Bermbeschaving? Amsterdam: Van Gennep, 1972. Balshaw, Hilary Ann. The British Occupation in Germany, 1945-1949. With Special Reference to Hamburg. Doctoral Dissertation, University of Oxford, 1972. Banning, C. “Food Shortages and Public Health: First Half of 1945.” Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 245 (Special Edition: The Netherlands during German Occupation) (1946): 93-110. Baranowski, Shelley. Nazi Empire: German Colonialism and Imperialism from Bismarck to Hitler. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011. Barbieri, Sergio., ed. Stedebouw in Rotterdam: Plannen en Opstellen 1940-1981. Amsterdam: Van Gennep, 1981. ------, Roy Bijhouwer, and Hans van Dijk, eds. Architectuur en Planning: Nederland 1940-1981. Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 1983. Bardou, Jean-Pierre, et. al. The Automobile Revolution: The Impact of an Industry. Translated by James M. Laux. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1982.

Bibliography 282

Bardua, Sven, and Gert Kähler. Die Stadt und das Auto wie der Verkehr Hamburg veränderte. Müchen: Dölling und Galitz, 2012. Barendregt, Jaap. The Dutch Money Purge: The Monetary Consequences of German Occupation and their Redress After Liberation, 1945-1952. Amsterdam: Thesis Publishers, 1993. Barjot, Dominique, ed. Catching Up With America: Productivity Missions and the Diffusion of American Economic and Technological Influence After the Second World War. Paris: Presses de l’Université de Paris-Sorbonne, 2002. Barker, Elisabeth. The British Between the Superpowers, 1945-1950. London: MacMillan Press, 1983. Barnstone, Deborah Asher. The Transparent State: Architecture and Politics in Postwar Germany. New York: Routledge, 2005. Baumann, Martin, and Steffen Raßloff, eds. Blumenstadt Erfurt: Waid – Gartenbau – iga/egapark. Erfurt: Sutton, 2011. Bax, E.H. Modernization and Cleavage in Dutch Society. Aldershot: Avebury, 1990. Beatte, Julia P. Schumann’s Dichterliebe and early Romantic Poetics: Fragmentation and Desire. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. Beeren, Willem A., and Rob Dettingmeijer, eds. Het Nieuwe Bouwen in Rotterdam 1920-1960. Delft: Delft University Press, 1982. Bell, Duncan. The Idea of Greater Britain: Empire and the Future of World Order, 1860-1900. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007. Bennett, Tony. “The Exhibitionary Complex.” New Formations 4 (Spring 1998): 73-102. ------. The Birth of the Museum: History, Theory, Politics. New York: Routledge, 1995. Bergeest, Michael. Bildung Zwischen Commerz und Emanzipation: Erwachsenenbildung in der Hambuger Region des 18. und 19. Jahrhunderts. Münster: Waxmann, 1995. Bergen, Marnix, and Brecht Deseure, eds. Local Memories in a Nationalizing and Globalizing World. New York: Palgrave-MacMillan, 2015. Berghahn, Volker R. The Americanization of West German Industry, 1945-1973. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986. ------, and Detlev Karsten. Industrial relations in West Germany. New York: Berg, 1987. Berkel, K. van, ed. Amerika in Europese Ogen: Facetten van de Europese Beeldvorming van het Moderne Amerika. Den Haag: SDU Uitgevers, 1990. Berman, Marshall. All that is Solid Melts into Air: The Experience of Modernity. New York: Penguin, 1988. Besamusca, Emmiline, and Jaap Verheul, eds. Discovering the Dutch: On Culture and Society of the Netherlands. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2010. Bessel, Richard, and Dirk Schumann, eds. Life After Death: Approaches to the Social and Cultural History of Empire during the 1940s and 1950s. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003.

Bibliography 283

Betts, Paul. The Authority of Everyday Objects: A Cultural History of West German Industrial Design. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004. Beyme, Klaus von. Der Wiederaufbau: Architektur und Städtebaupolitik in beiden deutschen Staaten. Munich: Piper, 1987. Biess, Frank, and Robert G. Moeller, eds. Histories of the Aftermath: The Legacies of the Second World War in Europe. New York: Berghahn Books, 2010. ------. Homecomings: Returning POWs and the Legacies of Defeat in Postwar Germany. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2006. Bird, Stephanie, Mary Fulbrook, Julia Wagner, and Christiane Wienand, eds. Reverberations of Nazi Violence in Germany and Beyond: Disturbing Pasts. London: Bloomsbury, 2016. Bishop, Chris. S.S. Hell on the Western Front: The Waffen S.S. In Europe 1940-1945. St. Paul: Amber Books, 2003. Blackbourn, David. The Conquest of Nature: Water, Landscape, and the Making of Modern Germany. London: Jonathan Cape, 2006. Blank, Ralf, Jörg Echternkamp, Derry Cook-Radmore, eds. Germany and the Second World War, Volume IX/I: German Wartime Society 1939-1945: Politicization, Disintegration, and the Struggle for Survival. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008. Blanken, M.C. “Force of Order and Methods:” An American View into Dutch Directed Society. Den Haag: Martinus Nijhof, 1976. Blijstra, Rein. Rotterdam, Stad in Beweging. Amsterdam: De Arbeiderspers, 1965. ------. Town-planning in the Netherlands since 1900. Amsterdam: Van Kampen, 1965. Blom, J.H.C., and Lamberts, Emiel. History of the Low Countries. Translated by James C. Kennedy. New York: Berghahn Books, 1999. Boer, N. de., and D. Lambert. Woonwijken: De Nederlandse Stedenbouw 1945-1985. Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 1987. Bogdanor, Vernon, and Robert Skidelsky. The Age of Affluence, 1951-1964. London: Macmillan, 1970. Boisseau, Tracey J., and Abigail M. Markwyn. Gendering the Fair: Histories of Women and Gender and World’s Fairs. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2010. Böll, Heinrich. “Hierzulande.” In Werke. Essayistische Schriften und Reden, Vol. 1, 1952-1963, edited by Bernd Balzer. Cologne: Kiepenheuer & Witsch, 1978, 366-375. ------. The Collected Stories. Translated by Leila Vennewitz and Breon Mitchell. Brooklyn: Melville House, 2011. Borowski’s Tadeusz. This Way for the Gas, Ladies and Gentlemen. New York: Penguin Books, [originally in 1959], 1992. Borsi, Franco. The Monumental Era: European Architecture and Design, 1929-1939. New York, 1987. Bose, Michael, et. al. Ein neues Hamburg entsteht: Planen und Bauen von 1933-1945. Hamburg: VSA-Verlag, 1986.

Bibliography 284

Bosma, J.E. “Planning the Impossible: History as Fundament of the Future – the Reconstruction of Middelburg, 1940-4.” In Rebuilding Europe’s Bombed Cities, edited by Jeffry Diefendorf. London: Macmillan Press, 1990, 64-76. Bosscher, D.F.J., Marja Roholl, and Mel van Elteren, et. al. American Culture in the Netherlands. Amsterdam: Vrije Universiteit Press, 1996. Brantz, Dorothee, and Sonja Dümpelmann, eds. Greening the City: Urban Landscapes in the Twentieth Century. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2011. Braun, Hans J. The German Economy in the Twentieth Century: The German Reich and the Federal Republic. New York: Routledge, 1990. Brix, Anja. “Anzeigenwerbung in der Nachkriegspresse (1945-1950).” In Unter Druck gesetzt: vier Kapitel deutscher Pressegeschichte, edited by Jürgen Wilke. Cologne: Böhlau Verlag GmbH & Cie, 2002, 199-258. Brockmann, Stephen. Nuremberg: The Imaginary Capital. Rochester: Camden House, 2006. Broner, Simon J. Consuming Visions: Accumulation and Display of Goods in America 1880-1920. New York: W.W. Norton, 1989. Browning, Christopher. Remembering Survival: Inside a Nazi Slave-Labor Camp. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2010. Bruin, Robin de. “Het Nieuwe Europa. Hans Linthorst Homan, lid van de Hoge Autoriteit (1962- 1967).” In De Nederlandse Eurocommisarissen, edited by Gerrit Voerman. Amsterdam: Boom, 1992, 65-92. Brunswig, Hans. Feuersturm über Hamburg. Stuttgart: Motorbuch, 1978. Brus, Erik. Gehavende Stad: Muziek en Literatuur in Rotterdam van 1960 tot nu. Amsterdam: Lebowski Publishers, 2012. Buchheim, Christoph. Die Wiedereingliederung Westdeutschland in die Weltwirtschaft, 1945- 1958. Munich: R. Oldenbourg Verlag, 1990. Bullock, Nicholas, and Luc Verpoest. Living with History, 1914-1964: Rebuilding Europe after the First and Second World Wars and the Role of Heritage Preservation. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2011. ------. Building the Postwar World: Modern Architecture and Reconstruction in Britain. London: Routledge, 2002. Burton, Pierre. 1967: The Last Good Year. Toronto: Doubleday Canada, 1997. Buruma, Ian. Year Zero: A History of 1945. London: Atlantic Books, 2014. Busch Jason, and Caroline Futter. Inventing the Modern World: Decorative Arts at the World’s Fairs, 1851-1939. New York: Skira Rizzoli, 2012. Büttner, Ursula. “Gomorrha”: Hamburg im Bombenkrieg. Hamburg: Landeszentrale für Politische Bildung, 1998. Buuren, G.D. van. Rotterdam per Tram: Een Rit Per Electrische Tram door de Maasstad (1945- 1968). Heilloo: Van Kamp; IJsselstein, 1990. Calleo, David P. The German Problem Reconsidered: Germany and the World Order, 1870 to the Present. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1978.

Bibliography 285

Cammens, H. van der., ed. Four Metropolises in Western Europe: Development and Urban Planning of London, Paris, Randstad Holland and the Ruhr Region. Maastricht: Van Gorcum, 1988. Carlberg, Michael. Ein Simulationsmodell zur Stadtplanung: dargestellt am Beispiel Hamburgs. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Rupprecht, 1974. Carson, Rachel. Silent Spring. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1962. Carter, Erica. How German Is She? Postwar West German Reconstruction and the Consuming Woman. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 1997. Carvalho, Luís, ed. Delivering Sustainable Competitiveness: Revisiting the Organizing Capacity of Cities. New York: Routledge, 2017. Chakrabarty, Dipesh. Provincializing Europe: Postcolonial Thought of Western Culture and Civilization. Oxford: Blackwell, 1998. Chalkey, Brian, and Stephen Essex. “Urban Planning through Hosting International Events: A History of the Olympic Games.” Planning Perspectives, Vol.14, No. 4 (1999): 369-394. Chaney, Sandra. Nature of the Miracle Years: Conservation in West Germany, 1945-1975. New York: Berghahn Books, 2008. Chernus, Ira. Eisenhower’s Atoms for Peace. College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 2002. Cleven, Erica E. Image bedeutet Bild: Eine Geschichte des Bildbegriffs in der Werbtheorie am Beispiel der Niederlande, 1917-1967. Utrecht: University of Utrecht Press, 1999. Cohen, Jean-Louis. Scènes de la vie future: L’Architecture Européenne et la Tentation de l’Amerique 1839-1960. Paris: Flammarion, 1995. Cohen, Lizabeth. A Consumer’s Republic: The Politics of Mass Consumption in Postwar America. New York: Alfred Knopf, 2003. Cole, Alistair, and Renaud Payre, eds. Cities as Political Objects: Historical Evolution, Analytical Categorisations and Institutional Challenges of Metropolitanism. Cheltenham: Edward Elgar Publishing, 2016. Conekin, Becky. The Autobiography of a Nation: The 1951 Festival of Britain. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2003. Cosgrove, Denis. Social Transformation and Symbolic Landscape. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1998. Crafts, Nicholas, and Gianni Toniolo, eds. Economic Growth in Europe Since 1945. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. Craig, Gordon A. Germany, 1866-1945. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1978. Crew, David F. “Consuming Germany in the Cold War: Consumption and National Identity in East and West Germany, 1949-1989, An Introduction.” In Consuming Germany in the Cold War, edited by David F. Crew. New York: Berg, 2003, 1-20. ------, ed. Consuming Germany in the Cold War. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003. Crockett, Dennis. German Post-Expressionism: The Art of Great Disorder 1918-1924. University Park: Pennsylvania State Press, 1999.

Bibliography 286

Curcio, Vincent. Chrysler: The Life and Times of an Automotive Genius. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000. Curtis, William. Modern Architecture Since 1900. Oxford: Phaidon, 1982. Daamen, Tom. Strategy as Force: Towards Effective Strategies for Urban Development: The Case of Rotterdam CityPorts. Amsterdam: IOS Press, 2010. Dähn, Arhur. Neu-Altona: Planung zum Aufbau und zur Sanierung eines kriegszerstörten Stadtkerngebietes in der Freien und Hansestadt Hamburg. Hamburg: Hammonia Verlag, 1958. ------. Städtebau, Wohnungsbau, Wohnungswirtschaft: Bericht und Auswertung einer Studienreise nach Montreal, San Franscisco, Los Angeles, Mexico City, Chicago, Washington, Philadelphia, New York vom 21 April bis 12 Mai 1965. Hamburg, 1966. David Barnow, De Hongerwinter. Hilversum: Verloren, 1999. De Man, Paul. Blindness and Insight: Essays in the Rhetoric of Contemporary Criticism. New York: Oxford University Press, 1971. Deák, Istvàn, and Jan T. Gross, and Tony Judt, eds. The Politics of Retribution in Europe: World War II and its Aftermath. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000. Delanty, Gerard. Formations of European Modernity: A Historical and Political Sociology of Europe. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013. Depelchin, Davy. “The Ghent Universal and International Exhibition of 1913: Reconciling Historicism, Modernity and Exoticism.” In Cultures of International Exhibitions 1840- 1940: Great Exhibitions in the Margins, edited by Marta Filipovà. Burlington: Ashgate, 2015, 183-202. Deunk, Gerritjan. Twentieth Century Garden and Landscape Architecture in the Netherlands. Rotterdam: NAi Publishers, 2002. Devos, Rika, Alexander Ortenberg, and Vladimir Paperny, eds. Architecture of Great Expositions, 1937-1959: Messages of Peace, Images of War. Burlington: Ashgate, 2015. ------. “‘Let us now invest in peace.’ Architecture at Expo 58 in Resonance of War.” In Architecture of Great Expositions, 1937-1959: Messages of Peace, Images of War, edited by Rika Devos, Alexander Ortenberg, and Vladimir Paperny. Burlington: Ashgate, 2015, 133-159. DeWulf, Jeroen. Spirit of Resistance: Dutch Clandestine Literature During Nazi Occupation. New York: Camden House, 2010. Diefendorf, Jeffry, ed. Rebuilding Europe’s Bombed Cities. London: Macmillan Press, 1990. ------, and A. Frohn. American Policy and the Reconstruction of West-Germany 1945. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993. ------. In the Wake of War: The Reconstruction of German Cities after the Second World War. New York: Oxford University Press, 1993. Dijk, Hans van. Twentieth-Century Architecture in the Netherlands. Rotterdam: 010 Publishers, 1999.

Bibliography 287

Divali, Colin, and Winstan Bond. Suburbanizing the Masses: Public Transport and Ubran Development in a Historical Perspective. Burlington: Ashgate, 2003. Dixon Hunt, John. The Making of Place: Modern and Contemporary Gardens. London: Reaktion Books, 2015. Domhardt, Konstanze Sylva. “From the ‘Functional City’ to the ‘Heart of the City’: Green Space and Public Space in the CIAM debates 1942-1952.” In Greening the City: Urban Landscapes in the Twentieth Century, edited by Dorothee Brantz and Sonja Dümpelmann. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2011, 133-158. Donkers, J. De Amerikaanse Droom in Nederland 1944-1969. Nijmegen, SUN, 2000. Douglas, Frank R. The United States, NATO, and a New Multilateral Relationship. London: Praeger, 2008. Dowling, Andrew. “A Tale of Two Cities: Madrid and Barcelona in Spain.” In Cities as Political Objects: Historical Evolution, Analytical Categorisations and Institutional Challenges of Metropolitanism, edited by Alistair Cole and Renaud Payre. Cheltenham: Edward Elgar Publishing, 2016, 79-97. Dreckmann, Hans. Hamburg nach der Kapitulation: Erinnerungen an 1945 bis 1946. Geschichte der “ernannten” Bürgerschaft: Hamburg: Dammtor, 1970. Driehuis, W., and J.J. Klant. “The Nature and Causes of the World Depression” De Economist 131, No. 4 (1983): 474-497. Du-Bois-Reymond, Manuela, and Peter van Lieshout. The Dutch Welfare System. Rheinfelden: Schäube Verlag, 1995. Dunk, H van der. Wederopbouw, Welvaart en Onrust: Nederland in the Jaren Vijftig en Zestig. Houten: De Haan, 1986. Dunnett, Peter J. S., The Decline of the British Motor Industry. London: Croom-Helm, 1980. Durth, Werner, and Niels Gutschow, eds. Träume und Trümmern: Planungen zum Wiederaufbau zerstörter Städte im Westen Deutschland 1940-1950. Vol. 1. Braunschweig: Vieweg, 1988. ------. “Utopie der Gemeinschaft: Überlegungen zur Neugestaltung deutscher Städte, 1899- 1950” in Romana Schneider and Wilfried Wang, eds. Moderne Architektur in Deutschland 1900-2000: Macht und Monument. Ostfildern-Ruit: Verlag Gerd Hatje, 1998, 134-161. Düwel, Jörn, and Michael Mönninger. Zwischen Traum und Trauma: Stadtplanung der Nachkriegsmoderne. Berlin: DOM Publishers, 2011. ------, and Niels Gutschow. A Blessing in Disguise: War and Town Planning in Europe, 1940- 1945. Berlin: DOM Publishers, 2013. ------, and Niels Gutschow. Fortgewischt sind alle überflüssigen Zutaten: Hamburg 1943: Zerstörung und Städtebau. Berlin: Lukas Verlag für Kunst- und Geistesgeschichte, 2008. ------, and Niels Gutschow. Fortgewischt sind alle überflüssigen Zutaten: Hamburg 1943: Zerstörung und Städtebau. Berlin: Lukas Verlag für Kunst- und Geistesgeschichte, 2008. Duyvendak, Jan Willem, and Ido de Haan, eds. Maakbaarheid: liberale wortles en hedendaagse kritiek van de maakbare samenleving. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 1997.

Bibliography 288

Egbert A. Hoffmann, Als der Feuertod von Himmel stürzte: Hamburg Sommer 1943 (Gudensberg- Gleichen: Wartberg Verlag, 2003); Eichengreen Barry, and Albrecht Ritschl. “Understanding West German Economic Growth in the 1950s,” SFB 649 Discussion Paper 2008-068. Permalink: http://sfb649.wiwi.hu-berlin.de. Einthoven, Louis. Heeft de Heeft de afwezige ongelijk? Geteuigenis van Mr. L. Einthoven over de Nederlandsche Unie. Apeldoorn: Semper Agendo, 1973. ------. Tegen de Stroom in; levende vissen zwemmen tegen de stroom in, alleen de dooie drijven mee. Apeldoorn: Semper Agendo, 1974. Eley, Geoff, Jennifer L. Jenkins, and Tracie Matysik, eds. German Modernities: From Wilhelm to Weimar. London: Bloomsbury, 2016. Ellwood, D.W. Rebuilding Europe: Western Europe, America and Postwar Reconstruction. New York: Longman, 1992. Elteren, M. van. Imagining America: Dutch Youth and Its Sense of Place. Tilburg: Tilburg University Press, 1994. Eng, Pierre Van Der. De Marshall-Hulp: Een Perspectief voor Nederland 1947-1953. Rheden: Uitgeverij De Haan, 1987. Erdmann, Heinrich. Hamburg und Dresden im Dritten Reich: Bombenkrieg und Kriegsende. Hamburg: Landeszentrale für Politische Bildung, 2000. Essex, Stephen, and Brian Chalkey. “Olympic Games as a Catalyst for Urban Change.” Leisure Studies. Vol. 17, No. 3 (1998): 187-206. Evans, Graeme. “Hand-Branding the Cultural City: From Prado to Prada.” International Journal of Urban and Regional Research. Vol. 27, No. 2 (2005): 417-440. ------. Cultural Planning: An Urban Renaissance? London: Routledge, 2001. Faludi, Andreas, and Arnold van der Valk. Rule and Order: Dutch Planning Doctrine in the 20th Century. Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1994. Farmer, Sarah. Martyred Village: Commemorating the 1944 massacre at Oradour-sur-Glane. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000. Farquharson, John. “The Consensus that Never Came: Hans Schlange-Schöningen and the CDU, 1945-1949.” European History Quarterly, Vol. 19 (1989): 353-383. Featherstone, Mike, and Scott Lash. Spaces of Culture: City – Nation – World. London: Sage Publications, 1999. Fehrenbach, Heide, and Uta G. Poiger. Transactions, Transgressions, Transformations: American Culture in Western Europe and Japan. New York: Berghahn Books, 2000. ------. Cinema in Democratizing Germany: Reconstructing National Identity After Hitler. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1995. Filipovà, Marta, ed. Cultures of International Exhibitions 1840-1940: Great Exhibitions in the Margins. Burlington: Ashgate, 2015. Fisher, Karl Friedhelm. “Berlin’s International Building Exhibitions 1957 and 1984/87.” In Exhibitions and the Development of Modern Planning Culture, edited by Robert Freestone and Marco Armati. Burlington: Ashgate, 2014, 261-276.

Bibliography 289

Fishman, Robert. Urban Utopias in the Twentieth Century: Ebenezer Howard, Frank Lloyd Wright, and Le Corbusier. New York: Basic Books, 1977. Flonneau, Matheiu. “Infrastructures and City Dwellers: Accommodating the Automobile in 20th Century Paris.” Journal of Transport History 2006. Foray, Jennifer L. Visions of Empire in the Nazi-Occupied Netherlands. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. Fourastié, Jean. Les trente glorieuses, ou, La revolution invisible de 1946 à 1975. Paris: Fayard, 1979. Frank, Hartmunt, ed. Faschistische Architekturen: Planen und Bauen in Europa, 1930-1945. Hamburg: Christians, 1985. ------. “The Late Victory of Neues Bauen: German Architecture after World War II.” In The Reconstruction in Europe after World War II, edited by Carlo Olmo and Vittorio Gregotti. Bologna: CIPIA, 1993, 58-66 Freestone, Robert, and Marco Amati. Exhibitions and the Development of Modern Planning Culture. Burlington: Ashgate, 2014. ------. Urban Planning in a Changing World: The Twentieth Century Experience. New York: Routledge, 2000. Frei, Norbert. Adenauer’s Germany and the Nazi Past: The Politics of Amnesty and Integration. New York: Columbia University Press, 2010. Freiwald, Eckhard. Hamburg – die Milionenstadt: Stadtentwicklung ab 1860. Hamburg: Toro- Verlag, 2013. Friebe, Wolfgang. Buildings of the World’s Exhibitions. Leipzig: Edition Leipzig, 1985. Friedrichs, Jürgen, and Allen Goodman. The Changing Downtown: A Comparative Study of Baltimore and Hamburg. New York: W. de Gruyter, 1987. Frijhoff, Willem. “Physical Space, Urban Space, Civic Space: Rotterdam’s Inhabitants and their Appropriation of the City’s Past.” In Local Memories in a Nationalizing and Globalizing World, edited by Marnix Bergen and Brecht Deseure. New York: Palgrave-MacMillan, 2015, 27-50. Fritsch-Bournazel, Renata. Confronting the German Question: Germans on the East-West Divide. New York: Berg, 1988. Fulbrook, Mary. A History of Germany 1918-2014: The Divided Nation. Chichester: John Wiley & Sons, 2015. Gadourek, Ivan. A Dutch Community: Social and Cultural Structure and Process in a Bulb- Growing Region in the Netherlands. Leiden: H.E. Stenfert Kroese N.V., 1956. Garn, Andrew., et. al. Exit to Tomorrow: World’s Fair Architecture, Design, Fashion, 1933-2005. New York, Universe, 2007. Gassert, Philipp and Alan E. Steinweis. “Introduction.” In Coping with the Nazi Past: West German Debates on Nazism and Generation Conflict, 1955-1975, edited by Philipp Gassert and Alan E. Steinweis. New York: Berghahn Books, 2007, 1-10.

Bibliography 290

------, and Alan E. Steinweis, eds. Coping with the Nazi Past: West German Debates on Nazism and Generation Conflict, 1955-1975. New York: Berghahn Books, 2007. Gentile, Emilio. La Granda Italia: The Myth of the Nation in the Twentieth Century. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2009. Geppert, Alexander. Fleeting Cities: Imperial Expositions in Fin-de-Siecle Europe. New York: Palgrave-Macmillan, 2013. Gerhard, Gesine. “From food scarcity to overproduction: saving the German peasant during the miracle years.” In Agriculture in Capitalist Europe, 1945-1960: From food shortages to food surpluses, edited by Carin Martiin, Juan Pan-Montojo, and Paul Brassley. New York: Routledge, 2016, 229-245. Gerstenberger, Katharina, and Tanja Nusser, eds. Catastrophe and Catharsis: Perspectives on Disaster and Redemption in German Culture and Beyond. Rochester: Camden House, 2015. Giersch, Herbert, Karl-Heinz Paqué and Holger Schmiedling. The Fading Miracle: Four Decades of Market Economy in Germany. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994. Gilbert, James. Perfect Cities: Chicago’s Utopias of 1893. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991. Gimbel, John. The Origins of the Marshall Plan. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1976. Ginkel, R. van. Op Zoek Naar Eigenheid. Denkbeelden en Discussies over Cultuur en Identiteit in Nederland. Den Haag: SDU, 1999. Glatzer, Wolfgang et al, Recent Social Trends in West Germany, 1960-1990. Frankfurt am Main: Campus Verlag, 1992. Glossner, Christian L. The Making of the German Post-war Economy: Political Communication and Public Reception of the Social Market Economy after World War II. London: I.B. Tauris Publishers, 2010. Goey, Ferry de. Ruimte voor Industrie: Rotterdam en de vestiging van industrie in de haven 1945- 1975. Delft: Eburon, 1990. Gold, John R. The Practice of Modernism: Modern Architects and Urban Transformation, 1954- 1972. New York: Routledge, 2007. ------, and Stephen V. Ward. Place Promotion: the Use of Publicity and Marketing to Sell Towns and Regions. New York: Wiley, 1994. Goossens, Johan, ed. Public Space: Design, Layout and Management of Public Open Space in Rotterdam. Rotterdam: 010 Publishers, 1995. Gordon Musgrove, Operation Gomorrah: the Hamburg Firestorm Raids (London: Jane’s, 1981). Graafland, Ad. Cities in Transition. Rotterdam: 010 Publishers, 2001. Gräff, Siegfried. Tod im Luftangriff. Ergibnisse pathologisch-anatomischer Untersuchungen anläßlich der Angriffe auf Hamburg in den Jahren 1943-1945. Hamburg, 1948. Grafstein, Robert. “The Failure of Max Weber’s Conception of Legitimacy: Its Causes and Implications.” The Journal of Politics 43, No. 2 (1981): 456-472.

Bibliography 291

Graham-Dixon, Francis. The Allied Occupation of Germany: The Refugee Crisis, Denazification and the Path to Reconstruction. London: I.B. Taurus, 2013. Grazia, Victoria de. Irresistible Empire: America’ Advance Through Twentieth-Century Europe. Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2005. Greenhalgh, Paul. Ephemeral Vistas: The Expositions Universelles, Great Exhibitions, and World’s Fairs, 1851-1939. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1988. Griffiths, Richard T. The Netherlands and the Integration of Europe 1945-1957. Amsterdam: NEHA, 1990. ------. The Economy and Politics of the Netherlands Since 1945. The Hague: Martinus Nijhof, 1980. Grodach, Carl, and Daniel Silver, eds. The Politics of Urban Cultural Policy: Global Perspectives. New York: Routledge, 2013. Gross, Jan. “A Tangled Web: Confronting Stereotypes Concerning Relations between Poles, Germans, Jews, and Communists.” In The Politics of Retribution in Europe: World War II and its Aftermath, edited by Istvàn Deák, Jan T. Gross, and Tony Judt. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000, 74-130. Grüttner, Michael. Wem die Stadt gehört: Stadtplanung u. Stadtentwicklung in Hamburg 1965- 1975. Hamburg: Verlag Association, 1976. Gundermann, Christine. Die versöhnten Bürger: Die Zweite Weltkrieg in deutsch- niederländischen Begegnungen 1945-2000. Münster, Waxmann 2014. Gutschow, Niels. “Hamburg: the ‘Catastrophe’ of July 1943.” In Rebuilding Europe’s Bombed Cities, edited by Jeffry Diefendorf. London: Macmillan Press, 1990,114-130 Hackhausen, Jörg. Stadtplanung in Hamburg: Kontinuitäten und Wandel vom Generalbebauungsplan 1940/1 bis zum Aufbauplan 1950. Munich: GRIN Verlag, 2007. Haitsma Mulier, Eco O.G., and Piet Baas. Het Beeld in de Spiegel: Historiografische Verkenningen. Hilversum: Uitgeverij Verloren, 2000. Hall, Catherine, and Sonya O. Rose, eds. At Home with the Empire: Metropolitan Culture and the Imperial World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006. Hall, Peter, and Colin Ward. Sociable Cities: The Legacy of Ebenezer Howard. New York: J. Wiley, 1998. ------. “Creative Cities and Economic Development.” Urban Studies Vol. 31, No. 4 (2000): 639- 649. ------. Cities of Tomorrow: An Intellectual History of Urban Planning and Design in the Twentieth Century. New York: Blackwell, 1988. Hall, Stuart, David Held, Don Hubert, and Kenneth Thompson, eds. Modernity: An Introduction to Modern Societies. Oxford: Blackwell, 1996. Hamilton, Ian F.E., and Kaliopa Dimitrovska Andrews, and Nataša Pichler-Milanović. Transformation of Cities in Central and Eastern Europe: Towards Globalization. New York: United Nations University Press, 2005.

Bibliography 292

Hanke, Christian, Joachim Paschen, and Bernhard Jungwirth, Hamburg im Bombenkrieg 1940- 1945: Das Schicksal einer Stadt. Hamburg: Medien-Verlag Schubert, 2001. Hård, Mikael and Thomas J. Misa, eds. Urban Machinery: Inside Modern European Cities. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2008. Harding, Alan, John Dawson, Richard Evans and Michael Parkinson. European Cities Towards 2000: Profiles, Policies, and Prospects. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1994. ------. “Amsterdam and Rotterdam.” In European Cities Towards 2000: Profiles, Policies, and Prospects, edited by Alan Harding, John Dawson, Richard Evans and Michael Parkinson. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1994, 18-44. ------. “Amsterdam and Rotterdam.” In European Cities Towards 2000: Profiles, Policies, and Prospects, edited by Alan Harding, John Dawson, Richard Evans and Michael Parkinson. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1994, 18-44. Harlaftis, Gelina, Stig Tenold, and Jesús M. Valdaliso, eds. The World’s Key Industry: History and Economics of International Shipping. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012. Harp, Stephen L., Marketing Michelin: Advertising & Cultural Identity in Twentieth-Century France. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2001. Harris, Neil. Cultural Excursions: Marketing Appetites and Cultural Tastes in Modern America. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1990. Hass-Klau, Carmen, ed. New Life for City Centres: Planning, Transport, and Conservation in British and German Cities. London: Anglo-German Foundation, 1988. Hatch, Michael T. Politics and Nuclear Power: Energy Policy in Western Europe. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1986. Have, Wichert Ten. De Nederlandse Unie. Aanpassing, vernieuwing en confrontatie in bezettingstijd, 1940-1941. Amsterdam: Prometheus, 1999. Heineman, Elizabeth D. “Sexuality and Nazism: The Doubly Unspeakable?” Journal of the History of Sexuality Vol. 11, no. 1 (2002): 22-66. ------. “The Hour of the Woman” Memories of Germany’s ‘Crisis Years’ and West German National Identity.” In The Miracle Years: A Cultural History of West Germany, 1949-1968, edited by Hannah Schissler. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001, 21-56. ------. Before Porn was Legal: The Erotica Empire of Beate Uhse. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2011. ------. What Difference Does a Husband Make? Women and Marital Status in Nazi and Postwar Germany. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999. Hensen, Jelle. “Tentoonstellingen in de Jaren ’50: E55 te Rotterdam.” Civil Engineering Thesis, Ghent University, 2007. Herf, Jeffrey. Divided Memory: The Nazi Past in the Two Germanys. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1997. Herzog, Dagmar. Sex After Fascism: Memory and Morality in Twentieth-Century Germany. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2005.

Bibliography 293

Hess, Alan. Googie Redux: Ultramodern Roadside Architecture. San Francisco: Chronicle Books, 2004. ------. Googie: Fifties Coffee Shop Architecture. San Francisco: Chronicle Books, 1986. Heßler, Martina, and Kristian Kehrt. Die Hamburger Sturmflut von 1962: risikobewusstsein und katastrophenschutz. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2014. Hewlett, Richard G., and Jack M. Holl. Atoms for Peace 1953-1961: Eisenhower and the Atomic Energy Commission. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989. Hilberg, Raul. The Destruction of the European Jews. London: Allen, 1961. Hirschfeld, Gerhard. Nazi Rule and Dutch Collaboration: the Netherlands under German Occupation, 1940-1945. Oxford: Berg, 1988. Hitchcock, William I. The Struggle for Europe: The Turbulent History of a Divided Continent 1945 to the Present. New York: Anchor Books, 2013. 12 Hodes, Jerome I. Second Cities: Globalization and Local Politics in Manchester and Philadelphia. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2013. Hoeven, Pien Van Der. Hoed af voor Marshall: de Marshall-hulp aan Nederland 1947-1952. Amsterdam: Bakker, 1997. Hoffenaar, Jan, Dieter Krüger, and David T. Zabecki, eds. Blueprints for Battle: Planning for War in Central Europe, 1948-1968. Lexington: Kentucky University Press, 2012. Hoffenberg, Peter. An Empire on Display: English, Indian, and Australian Exhibitions from the Crystal Palace to the Great War. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001. Hogan, Michael J. The Marshall Plan: America, Britain, and the Reconstruction of Western Europe, 1947- 1952. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987. Hook, James van. Rebuilding Germany: The Creation of the Social Market Economy, 1949-1957. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004. Hooker, Mark T. The History of Holland. London: Greenwood Press, 1999. Hopkins, Michael F., Michael D. Kandiah, and Gillian Staerck, eds. Cold War Britain, 1945-1964: New Perspectives. Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2003. Hughes, R. Gerald. Britain, Germany and the Cold War: The Search for a European Détente, 1949-1967. New York: Routledge, 2007. Ibelings, Hans. Twentieth Century Urban Design in the Netherlands. Rotterdam: NAi Publishers, 1999. Inklaar, Frank. Van Amerika Geleerd: Marshall-hulp en Kennisimport in Nederland. The Hague: S.D.U. Uitgeverij, 1997. James-Chakraborty, Kathleen. Bauhaus Culture from Weimar to the Cold War. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2006. ------. German Architecture for a Mass Audience. London: Routledge, 2002. Jenkins, Jennifer, Provincial Modernity: Local Culture & Liberal Politics in fin-de-siècle Hamburg. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2003.

Bibliography 294

Jens-Hinrich Fischer. Stadtentwicklung und Umweltplanung: dergestellt am Beispiel Hamburg. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Rupprecht, 1985. Jerzak, Claudia. “Memory Politics: The Bombing of Hamburg and Dresden.” In Catastrophe and Catharsis: Perspectives on Disaster and Redemption in German Culture and Beyond, edited by Katharina Gerstenberger and Tanja Nusser. Rochester: Camden House, 2015, 53- 72. Jestrovic, Silvija. Performance, Space, Utopia: Cities of War, Cities of Exile. New York: Palgrave MacMillan, 2013. Jong, Herman J. de. Catching Up Twice: The Nature of Dutch Industrial Growth During the 20th Century in a Comparative Perspective. Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, 2003. ------. “Characteristics of economic growth in the Netherlands during the postwar period.” In Economic Growth in Europe Since 1945, edited by Nicholas Crafts and Gianni Toniolo. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996, 290-328. Jong, Louis de. Het Koninkrijk der Nederlanden in de Tweede Wereldoorlog, 14 vols. The Hague: Staatsuitgeverij, 1969-1991. Judt, Tony. Postwar. A History of Europe Since 1945. New York: Penguin Books, 2005. Kansteiner, Wulf. “Losing the War, Winning the Memory Battle: The Legacy of Nazism, World War II, and the Holocaust in the Federal Republic of Germany.” In The Politics of Memory in Postwar Europe, edited by Richard Ned Lebow, Claudio Fogu, and Wulf Kantsteiner. Durham: Duke University Press, 2007, 102-146. Kaplan, Marion A., Atina Grossmann, and Renate Bridenthal. When Biology Became Destiny: Women in Weimar and Nazi Germany. New York: Monthly Review Press, 1984. Karasov, Deborah, and Steve Waryan, eds. The Once and Future Park. New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 1993. Katona, George. The Mass Consumption Society. London: McGraw-Hill, 1964. Kauffmann, Frank. “Naar een ‘modern’ stadscentrum.” In Het Nieuwe Bouwen in Rotterdam 1920- 1960, edited by Willem A. Beeren and Rob Dettingmeijer. Delft: Delft University Press, 1982. Kazepov, Yuri. Cities of Europe: Changing Contexts, Local Arrangements, and the Challenge to Urban Cohesion. Malden: Blackwell, 2005. Keith Lowe, Inferno: The Devastation of Hamburg, 1943. London: Penguin, 2012. Kennedy, James C. Nieuw Babylon in Aanbouw: Nederland in de Jaren Zestig. Amsterdam: Boom, 1995. Klemek, Christopher. The Transatlantic Collapse of Urban Renewal: Postwar Urbanism from New York to Berlin. Chicago: Chicago University Press, 2011. Kleniewski, Nancy. Cities, Change, and Conflict: A Political Economy of Urban Life. Belmont: Wadsworth Publishing Company, 1997. Knight, Katherine. Spuds, Spam, and Eating for Victory: Rationing in the Second World War. Stroud: The History Press, 2011.

Bibliography 295

Koekebakker, Olof. Stadsplan Rotterdam: Een Visie op de Ruimtelijke Ontwikkeling van Rotterdam tot 2005. Rotterdam: College van Burgemeester en Wethouders, 1992. Kok, Auke. De Verrader. Leven en dood van Anton van der Waals. Amsterdam: De Arbeiderspers, 1995. Koonz, Claudia. Mothers in the Fatherland: women, family life, and Nazi ideology, 1919-1945. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1985. Kopitzsch, Franklin, ed. Hamburgische Biographie: Personenlexikon. vol 1. Hamburg: Christians Verlag, 2001. Kossak, Egbert. Hamburg: Stadt im Überfluss: Optionen für die wachsende Stadt. Hamburg: Ellert & Richter Verlag, 1993. Kroes, Rob, De Leegte van Amerika: Een massacultuur in de Wereld. Amsterdam: Prometheus, 1992. ------. Image and Impact: American Influences in the Netherlands Since 1945. Amsterdam: Amerika Instituut Universiteit Amsterdam, 1981. Kruijer, G.J. Sociale Desorganisatie: Amsterdam tijdens de Hongerwinter. Meppel: J.A. Bloom, 1951. Kuisel, Richard. Seducing the French: The Dilemma of Americanization. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993. ------. The French Way: How France Embraced and Rejected American Values and Power. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2012. Kuys, Gerardus C. J. De Vrees voor wat Niet Kwam: Nieuwe arbeidsverhoudingen in Nederland 1935-1945, aan het voorbeeld van de Twentste textielindustrie. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2010. Laar, Paul van der. Stad van Formaat: Geschiedenis van Rotterdam in de negentiende en twintigste eeuw. Zwolle: Waanders, 2007. Lademacher, H., and J. Bosmans, eds. Tradition und Neugestaltung, zu Fragen des Wiederaufbaus in Deutschland und der Niederländer in der frühen Nachkriegzeit. Münster: Regensberg, 1991. Lagrou, Pieter. The Legacy of Nazi Occupation: Patriotic Memory and National Recovery in Western Europe, 1945-1965. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007. Lamb, Hubert, and Knud Frydendahl. Historic Storms of the North Sea, British Isles, and Northwest Europe. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991. Lamparter, Ulrich, and Solke Wiegand-Grefer, and Dorothee Wierling, eds. Zeitzeugen des Hamburg Feuersturms 1943 und ihre Familien: Forschungsproject zur Weitergabe von Kriegerserfahrugen. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2013. Lange, Ralf. Hamburg – Wiederaufbau und Neuplanung 1943-1963. Königstein im Taunus: Langewiesche, 1994. Langfus, Anna. The Whole Land Brimstone. New York: Pantheon, 1962. Laqueur, Walter. Europe Since Hitler: the Rebirth of Europe. New York: Penguin Press, 1982. Lash, Scott, and John Urry. Economies of Signs and Space. London: Sage Publications, 1994.

Bibliography 296

Lawson, Richard, and Robert Lee, eds. Population and Society in Western European Port Cities, c. 1650-1939. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2000. Leaman, Jeremy. The Political Economy of West Germany, 1945-1985: An Introduction. London: Macmillan, 1988. Lebow, Richard Ned. “The Memory of Politics in Postwar Europe.” In The Politics of Memory in Postwar Europe, edited by Richard Ned Lebow, Claudio Fogu, and Wulf Kantsteiner. Durham: Duke University Press, 2007, 1-39. ------, and Claudio Fogu, and Wulf Kantsteiner. The Politics of Memory in Postwar Europe. Durham: Duke University Press, 2007. Lehmann, Axel. Der Marshall-Plan und das neue Deutschland: Die Folgen amerikanischer Besatzungspolitik in den Westzonen. Münster: Wexmann, 2000. Levi, Primo. If This is a Man. London: Orion Press, [originally 1959], 1960. Lieftinck, Pieter. The Post-War Financial Rehabilitation of the Netherlands. The Hague: Martinus Nijhof, 1973. Logemann, Jan L. Trams or Tailfins: Public and Private Prosperity in Postwar West Germany and the United States. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2012. Lowe, Keith. Inferno: The Devastation of Hamburg, 1943. London: Penguin, 2012. Lüdtke, Alf, Inge Marssolek, and Adelheid von Seldern. Amerikanisierung: Traum und Alptraum im Deutschland des 20. Jahrhunderts. Stuttgart: Steiner, 1996. Luykx, Paul, and Pim Slot. Een stille revolutie? cultuur en mentaliteit in de lange jaren vijftig. Hilversum: Verloren, 1997. Maass, Walter B. The Netherlands at War: 1940-1945. London, New York: Abelard-Schuman, 1970. MacDonald, Sharon. “Undesirable Heritage: Fascist Material Culture and Historical Consciousness in Nuremberg.” International Journal of Heritage Studies Vol. 12, No. 1 (2006): 9-28. Maciuika, John. Before the Bauhaus: Architecture, Politics, and the German State, 1890-1920. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008. MacKenzie, John M. Museums and Empire: Natural History, Human Cultures and Colonial Identities. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2010. ------, John M. Propaganda and Empire: the Manipulation of British Public Opinion, 1880- 1960. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1984. Maddison, Angus. Dynamic Forces in Capitalist Development. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991. Maier, Charles S. “The Politics of Productivity: Foundations of American International Economic Policy after World War II.” International Organization 31, No. 4 (1977), 607-633. ------. In Search of Stability: Explorations in Historical Political Economy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987. ------, and Günter Bischof. The Marshall Plan and Germany: West German Development within the Framework of the European Recovery Program. New York: Berg, 1991.

Bibliography 297

Manning, A.F. “Die Niederlande und Europa von 1945 bis zum Beginn der fünfziger Jahre.” Vierteljahrshefte für Zeitgeschichte 29 (1981): 9-13. Martiin, Carin, Juan Pan-Montojo, and Paul Brassley. Agriculture in Capitalist Europe, 1945- 1960: From food shortages to food surpluses. New York: Routledge, 2016. Martin Middlebrook, The Battle of Hamburg: the Firestorm Raid. London: Cassell, 2000. Mattie, Erik. World’s Fairs. New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 1998. Mawby, Spencer. “Revisiting Rapallo: Britain, Germany, and the Cold War, 1945-1955.” In Cold War Britain, 1945-1964: New Perspectives, edited by Michael F. Hopkins, Michael D. Kandiah, and Gillian Staerck. Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2003, 81-94. Mazower, Mark, et. al. Post-War Reconstruction in Europe: International Perspectives, 1945- 1949. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011. ------. Dark Continent: Europe’s Twentieth Century. New York: Vintage, 1998. ------. Hitler’s Empire: Nazi Rule in Occupied Europe. New York: Penguin Books, 2013. ------. Inside Hitler’s Greece: The Experience of Occupation, 1941-1944. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995. Mens, Noor. W.G. Witteveen en Rotterdam. Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 2007. Merritt, Anna J. and Richard L. Merritt, eds. Public Opinion in Occupied Germany: The OMGUS Surveys, 1945-1949. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1970. Messenger, David A., and Katrin Paelher, eds. A Nazi Past: Recasting German Identity in Postwar Europe. Lexington: University of Kentucky Press, 2015. Meyer-Marwitz, Bernhard. Hamburg 1945-1955. Hamburg: Albatross, 1955. Meyer, Han. City and Port: Urban Planning as a Cultural Venture in London, Barcelona, New York, and Rotterdam: Changing Relations between Public Urban Space and Large-Scale infrastructure. Utrecht: International Books, 1999. Middelhoek, Simon. Amerika: Ons Voorbeeld? Delft: Waltman, 1969. Miller, Mervyn. Raymond Unwin: Garden Cities and Town Planning. New York: Leicester University Press, 1992. Milward, Alan S. The Reconstruction of Western Europe, 1945-51. London: Methuen, 1984. Mitscherlich, Alexander, and Margerete Mitscherlich. Die Unfähigkeit zu trauern: Grundlagen kollektiven Verhaltens. Munich: R. Piper, 1967. Moeller, Robert G. Protecting Motherhood: Women and the Family in the Politics of Postwar West Germany. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993. ------. War Stories: The Search for a Usable Past in the Federal Republic of Germany. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001. Monclús, Javier. International Expositions and Urbanism: The Zaragoza Expo 2008 Project. Burlington: Ashgate, 2009. Müller-Ibold, K. Stadt im Fluß: Stadtebauliche Entwicklung am Beispiel Hamburg. Hamburg: Christians, 1978.

Bibliography 298

Müller, Christoph. West Germans Against the West: anti-Americanism in the Media and Public Opinion in the Federal Republic of Germany 1949-68. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010. Müller, Jan-Werner, and Kim Lane Scheppele. “Constitutional Patriotism: An Introduction,” International Journal of Constitutional Law 6 (2008): 67-71. ------. “A General History of Constitutional Patriotism.” International Journal of Law, 6 (2007): 72-95. ------. “Seven Ways to Misunderstand Constitutional Patriotism.” Notizie di Politeia 96 (2009): 20-24. Müller, Klaus-Jürgen, and David N. Dilks, eds. Grossbritannien und der deutsche Widerstand 1933-1944. Paderborn: Schöningh, 1994. Müller, Wolfgang C., Paul W. Thurner, eds. The Politics of Nuclear Energy in Western Europe. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017. Mumford, Eric. Defining Urban Design: CIAM Architects and the Formation of a Discipline, 1937-69. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009. ------. The CIAM Discourse on Urbanism,1928-1960. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2000. Mumford, L. The City in History: Its Origins, its Transformations, and its Prospects. New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1961. Musgrove, Gordon. Operation Gomorrah: The Hamburg Firestorm Raids. London: Jane’s, 1981. Necker, Sylvia, and Meik Woyke. Von Achsenkonzept zur Metropolregion: Stadt und Regionalplanung für den Großraum Hamburg seit dem Ersten Weltkrieg. Hamburg: Zeitschrift des Vereins für Hamburgische Geschichte, 2009, 143-166. ------. Konstanty Gutschow, 1902-1978: Modernes Denken und Volksgemeinschaftliche Utopie eines Architekten. München: Dölling und Galitz Verlag, 2012. Nell, Liza, and Jan Rath. Ethnic Amsterdam: Immigrants and Urban Change in the 20th Century. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2010. Neumann, Klaus. Shifting Memories: The Nazi Past in the New Germany. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2000. Nicholls, Anthony J. The Bonn Republic: West German Democracy, 1945-1990. New York: Longman, 1997. Nijhof, Erik. “‘Dock-work is a skilled profession.’ Descasualization and the Rotterdam labour market (1945-1970).” In The World’s Key Industry: History and Economics of International Shipping, edited by Gelina Harlaftis, Stig Tenold, and Jesús M. Valdaliso. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012, 275-288. Noakes, Jeremy, and Geoffrey Pridham. Nazism, 1919-1945: Foreign Policy, War, and Racial Extermination. Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 1995. Nolan, Mary. Visions of Modernity: American Business and the Modernization of Germany. New York: Oxford University Press, 1994.

Bibliography 299

Oetzmann, Dirk. Die Hamburger Schmalspurbahnen: IGA- und Parkbahnen, Ottensener und Wandsbeker Industriebahnen, Trümmerbahnen, Feldbahnen und andere. Hamburg: Verein Verkehrsamateure und Museumbahn, 2010. Oldenziel, Ruth, and Karin Zachmann. Cold War Kitchen: Americanization, Technology, and European Users. Cambridge: Massachusetts Institute of Technology Press, 2009. Olmo, Carlo, and Vittorio Gregotti. The Reconstruction in Europe after World War II. Bologna: CIPIA, 1993. Ottens, Henk. Het Groene Hart Binnen de Randstad: Een Beeld van Suburbanisatie in West- Nederland. Assen: Van Gorcum, 1976. Ours, Jan C. van. Gezinsconsumptie in Nederland: 1951-1980. Rotterdam: Erasmus Universiteit, 1986. Outka, Elizabeth. Consuming Traditions: Modernity, Modernism, and the Commodified Authentic. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012. Ovink, Henk, and Elien Wierenga. Ontwerp en Politiek. Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 2009. Owings, Alison. Frauen: German women recall the Third Reich. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 2011. Paalman, Floris. Cinematic Rotterdam: The Times and Tides of a Modern City. Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 2011 Pace, Sergio, and Cristiana Chiorino, and Michela Rosso. Italia’61, the Nation on Show: The Personalities and Legends Heralding the Centenary of the Unification of Italty. Turn: Umberto Allemandi & Co., 2006. Parry, Eric. Context: Architecture and the Genius of Place. Chichester: John Wiley & Sons, 2015. Phillips, Patricia. “Present Tensions: The Nature of Public Space.” In The Once and Future Park, edited by Deborah Karasov and Steve Waryan. New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 1993. Pluvinage, Gonzague, ed. Expo ’58: between Utopia and Reality. Brussels: Brussels City Archives, 2008. Poiger, Uta. Jazz, Rock, and Rebels: Cold War Politics and American Culture in a Divided Germany. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000. Porter, Pamela M. Art of Suppression: Confronting the Nazi Past in Histories of Visual and Performing Arts. Oakland: University of California Press, 2016. Post, Harry. Pillarization: An Analysis of Dutch and Belgian Society. Wiltshire: Avesbury, 1989. Presser, Jacques. Ondergang. De vervolging en verdelging van het Nederlandse Jodendom 1940- 1945. The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1965. Provoost, Michelle. Asfalt: Automobiliteit in de Rotterdamse Stedebouw. Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 1996. ------. Hugh Maaskant: Architect of Progress. Rotterdam: NAi Uitgevers, 2013. Prüver, Christina. Willy Haas und das Feuilleton der Tageszeitung ‘Die Welt.’ Würzburg: Verlag Königshausen & Neumann GmbH, 2007.

Bibliography 300

Puff, Helmut. Miniature Monuments: Modelling German History. Boston: De Gruyter, 2014. Pugh, Emily. Architecture, Politics, and Identity in a Divided Berlin. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 2014. Pulzer, Peter G. J. German Politics, 1945-1995. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995. Qureshi, Sadiah. Peoples on Parade: Exhibitions, Empire, and Anthropology in Nineteenth- Century Britain. Chicago: Chicago University Press, 2011. Raban, Jonathan. Soft City. London: Collins Harvill, 1988. Rauer, Valentin. “Symbols in Action: Willy Brandt’s kneefall at the Warsaw Memorial.” In Social Performance: Symbolic Action, Cultural Pragmatics, and Ritual, edited by Jeffrey C. Alexander, Bernhard Giesen, and Jason L. Mast. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009, 257-282. Reichhardt, Hans J., and Wolfgang Schäche. Von Berlin nach Germania: Über der Zerstörungen der Reichshauptstadt durch Albert Speers Neugestaltungsplanungen. Berlin: Transit, 1998. Rennen, Ward. CityEvents: Selling Places in a Media Age. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007. Reynolds, David, One World Divisible: A Global History Since 1945. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2000. Richard J. Goslan, “The Legacy of World War II in France: Mapping the Discourses of Memory,” in The Politics of Memory in Postwar Europe, eds., Richard Ned Lebow, Wulf Kansteiner, and Claudio Fogu. Durham: Duke University Press, 2006, 73-101. Richie, Alexandra. Faust's Metropolis: a History of Berlin. New York: Carroll & Graf, 1998. Richter, Rudi. Wirtschaftswerbung in der sozialen Marktwirtschaft. Wiesbaden: Springer Fachmedien, 1959. Rings, Werner. Life with the Enemy: Collaboration and Resistance in Hitler’s Europe, 1939-1945. Translated by J. Maxwell Brownjohn. Garden City: Doubleday & Company, 1984. Roholl, Marja L. “De fototentoonstelling Wij Mensen – The Family of Man in het Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam: een Amerikaans familiealbum als wapen in de koude oorlog.” In Het Beeld in de Spiegel: Historiografische Verkenningen, edited by Eco. O.G. Haitsma Mulier and Piet Baas. Hilversum: Uitgeverij Verloren, 2000, 133-152. Romein, Arie, and Jan Jacob Trip. “Notes of Discord: Urban Cultural Policy in the Confrontational City.” In The Politics of Urban Cultural Policy: Global Perspectives, edited by Carl Grodach and Daniel Silver. New York: Routledge, 2013, 54-68. Romer, Herman. Rotterdam in de jaren dertig. Zaltbommel: Europese Bibliotheek, 1981. Romijn, Peter. “Restoration of Confidence: The Purge of Local Government in the Netherlands as a Problem of Postwar Reconstruction.” In The Politics of Retribution in Europe: World War II and its Aftermath, edited by Istvàn Deák, Jan T. Gross, and Tony Judt. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000, 173-193. Rooijendijk, Cordula. That City is Mine! Urban Ideal Images in Public Debates and City Plans, Amsterdam and Rotterdam 1945-1995. Amsterdam: Vossiuspers, 2005.

Bibliography 301

Roozenbeek, Herman. “Waste and Confusion: NATO logistics from a Dutch perspective.” In Blueprints for Battle: Planning for War in Central Europe, 1948-1968, edited by Jan Hoffenaar, Dieter Krüger, and David T. Zabecki. Lexington: Kentucky University Press, 2012, 93-107. Rose, Lisle A. Farewell to Prosperity: Wealth, Identity, and Conflict in Postwar America. Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 2014. Rosenfeld, Gavriel D. Munich and Memory: Architecture, Monuments, and the Legacy of the Third Reich. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000. ------., and Paul B. Jaskot, eds. Beyond Berlin: Twelve German Cities Confront the Nazi Past. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 2008. Ross, Corey, Pamela E. Swett, and Fabrice d’Almeida, eds. Pleasure and Power in Nazi Germany. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011. Ross, Kristin. Fast Cars, Clean Bodies: Decolonization and the Reordering of French Culture. Cambridge: Massachusetts Institute of Technology Press, 1996. Rovers, Frits. Voor Recht en Vrijheid: De Partij van de Arbeid en de Koude Oorlog 1946-1958. Amsterdam: Stichting beheer IISG, 1994. Ruble, Blair A. Second Metropolis: Pragmatic Pluralism in Gilded Age Chicago, Silver Age Moscow, and Meiji Osaka. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001. Rudberg, Eva, et. al. The Stockholm Exhibition 1930: Modernism’s breakthrough in Swedish Architecture. Stockholm: Stockholmia Forlag, 1999. Runyon, David K. “An Analysis of the rebuilding of Rotterdam after the Bombing on May 14, 1940.” MA Thesis, University of Wisconsin, 1969. Rydell, Robert W. World of Fairs: The Century-of-Progress Expositions. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993. ------., and Nancy E. Gwinn. Fair Representations: World’s Fairs and the Modern World. Amsterdam: VU Press, 1994. Schaal, Hans-Dieter. In-Between: Exhibition Architecture. Stuttgart: Menges, 2009. Schäche, Wolfgang. Architektur und Städtebau in Berlin zwischen 1933 und 1945: Planen und Bauen unter der Ägide der Stadtverwaltung. Berlin: Mann, 1991. Schain, Martin. The Marshall Plan: Fifty Years After. New York: Palgrave, 2001. Scheurs, W. Geschiedenis van de Reclame in Nederland: De Ontwikkeling van de Reclame in Nederland van 1870-1990. Utrecht: Spectrum, 1989 Schewegman, Marjan, and Hélène Vossen, eds. Vetrouwde Patronen, Nieuwe Dromen: Nederland naar een Modern-Industriële Samenleving 1948-1973. IJsselstein: VGN, 1992. Schildt, Alex, and Detlef Siegfried. Between Marx and Coca-Cola: Youth Cultures in Changing European Societies, 1960-1980. New York: Beghahn Books, 2006. ------. Moderne Zeiten: Freizeit, Massenmedien und “Zeitgeist” in der Bundesrepublik der 50er Jahre. Hamburg: Christians Verlag, 1995. Schilfgaarde, Paul van, R.M. Kathmann, eds. De wederopbouw van Rotterdam: stedelijke herverkaveling in praktijk. The Hague: VUGA, 1987.

Bibliography 302

Schipper, Frank. Driving Europe: Building Europe on Roads in the Twentieth Century. Amsterdam: Aksant, 2008. Schissler, Hanna, ed. The Miracle Years: A Cultural History of West Germany, 1949-1968. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001. Schneider, Christian. Stadtgründung im Dritten Reich: Wolfsburg und Salzgitter: Ideologie, Ressortpolitik, Repräsentation. Wolfsburg: H. Moos, 1979. Schöffer, Ivo. Het Nationaal-Socialistische Beeld van de Geschiedenis der Nederlanden: Een Historiografische en Bibliografische Studie. Utrecht: Hes Publishers, 1978. Schutts, Jeff R. “Born Again in the Gospel of Refreshment? Coca-Colonization and the Remaking of Postwar German Identity.” In Consuming Germany in the Cold War, edited by David Crew. New York: Berg, 2003, 121-150. Schuyt, Kees, and Ed Taverne. Dutch Culture in a European Perspective, Volume 4: 1950: Prosperity and Welfare. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004. [Originally published in Dutch as 1950: Welvaart in Zwart-Wit. The Hague: SDU Publishers, 2000]. Schwartz, Hans-Peter. Geschichte der Bundesrepublik Deutschland: Die Ära Adenauer, 1949- 1957. Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 1994. Schwarz, Uta. Wochenschau, westdeutsche Identität und Geschlecht in den fünfziger Jahren. Frankfurt-am-Main: Campus Verlag, 2002. Scott, James C. Seeing Like a State: How Certain Schemes to Improve the Human Condition Have Failed. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998. Shoskes, Ellen. Jacqueline Tyrwhitt: A Transnational Life in Urban Planning and Design. New York: Ashgate, 2013. Siedler, Wolf J., and Elisabeth Niggemeyer. Die gemordete Stadt: Abgesang auf Putte and Strasse, Platz und Baum. Berlin: Herbig, 1964. Siek, Michael. Predicting Storm Surges: Chaos, Computational Intelligence, Data Assimilation, Ensembles. Baco Raton: CRC Press, 2011. Smiers, Joost. Cultuur in Nederland 1945-1955: Meningen en Beleid. Nijmegen: Socialistische Uitgeverij Nijmegen, 1997. Smith, Daniel. The Spade as Mighty as the Sword: The Story of the Second World War ‘Dig for Victory’ Campaign. London: Aurum, 2013. Somer, Kees. The Functional City: The CIAM and Cornelis van Eesteren, 1928-1960. Rotterdam: NAi Uitgevers, 2007. Sonntag, Christian. Medienkarrieren: Biografische Studien über Hamburger Nachkriegsjournaliste 1946-1949. Munich: Verlagsbuchhandlung, 2006. Spicka, Mark E. Selling the Economic Miracle: Economic Reconstruction and Politics in West Germany, 1949-1957. New York: Berghahn Books, 2007. Spyck, Robert P. van. Urbanization and Suburbanization in Utrecht, the Netherlands: A Social Geography of Urban Growth. Ph.D. Thesis, University of Oregon, 2004. Stafford, David. Endgame, 1945: The Missing Final Chapter of World War II. New York: Little, Brown & Company, 2007.

Bibliography 303

Stargardt, Nicholas. The German War: A Nation Under Arms, 1939-1945: Citizens and Soldiers. New York: Basic Books, 2015. Steenhuis, Marinke. Stedenbouw in het Landschap: Pieter Verhagen (1882-1950). Rotterdam: NAi Uitgevers, 2007. Stein, Zena et al. Famine and Human Development: The Dutch Hungerwinter of 1944-1945. New York: Oxford University Press, 1975. Steinert, Johannes-Dieter. “Food and the Food Crisis in Post-War Germany, 1945-1948: British Policy and the role of British NGOs.” In Food and Conflict in Europe in the Age of the Two World Wars, edited by Frank Trentmann and Flemming Just. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006, 266-288. Stephan, Alexander. Americanization and Anti-Americanism: the German encounter with American Culture after 1945. New York: Berghahn Books, 2005. Stephenson, Jill. Women in Nazi Society. London: Routledge, [originally 1975], 2014. Stevens, Henrik. The Institutional Position of Seaports: An International Comparison. Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1999. Strube, Sebastian. Euer Dorf soll schöner werden: Ländlicher Wandel, staatliche Planung und Demokratisierung der Bundesrepublik Deutschland. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2013. Strupp, Christoph, ed. 19 Tage Hamburg Ereignisse und Entiwcklungen der Stadtgeschichte seit den fünfziger Jahren. Munich and Hamburg: Döllig und Galitz, 2012. ------. “Das Tor zu Welt, die ‘Politik der Elbe’ und die EWG. Hamburger Europapolitik in den 1950er und 1960er Jahren.” In Clio Online (2010): http://www.europa.clio- online.de/essay/id/artikel-3578 ------. “Stadt Ohne Hertz. Rotterdam und die Erinnerung and den deutschen Luftkrieg vom 14. Mai 1940.” In Luftkrieg. Erinnerungen in Deutschland und Europa, edited by Jörg Arnold, Dietmar Süss, and Malte Thiessen. Göttingen: Wallstein, 2009, 27-49. Swett, Pamela, S. Jonathan Wiesen, and Jonathan R. Zatlin, eds. Selling Modernity: Advertising in Twentieth-Century Germany. Durham: Duke University Press, 2007. Symes, Carol. “When We Talk About Modernity.” The American Historical Review Vol. 116, 3 (2011): 715-726. Syon, Guillaume de. “Lufthansa Welcomes You: Air Transportation and Tourism in the Adenauer Era.” In Selling Modernity: Advertising in Twentieth-Century Germany, edited by Pamela Swett, S. Jonathan Wiesen, and Jonathan Zatlin. Durham: Duke University Press, 2007, 182-201. Sywottek, Arnold. “From Starvation to Excess? Trends in the Consumer Society from the 1940s to the 1970s.” In The Miracle Years: A Cultural History of West Germany, 1949-1968, edited by Hanna Schissler. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001, 341-358. Tames, Ismee. “Ashamed about the Past: The Case of Nazi Collaborators and Their Families in Post-War Dutch Societ.” In Reverberations of Nazi Violence in Germany and Beyond: Disturbing Pasts, edited by Stephanie Bird, Mary Fulbrook, Julia Wagner, Christiane Wienand. London: Bloomsbury, 2016, 47-64.

Bibliography 304

Taverne, Ed, and Irmin Visser, eds. Stedebouw: De Geschiedenis van de Stad in the Nederlanden van 1500 tot heden. Nijmegen: SUN, 1993. ------, Cor Wagenaar, and Martien de Vietter. Poetic Functionalist: J.J.P. Oud, 1890-1963: The Complete Works. Rotterdam: NAi Publishers, 2001. ------“The Lijnbaan (Rotterdam): A Prototype of a Postwar Urban Shopping Centre.” In Rebuilding Europe’s Bombed Cities, edited by Jeffry Diefendorf. London: Macmillan Press, 1990, 145-154. Taylor, Blaine. Hitler’s Engineers: Fritz Todt and Albert Speer, Master Builders of the Third Reich. London: Casemate Publishers, 2010. Taylor, Frederick. Exorcising Hitler. London. Bloomsbury, 2014. Taylor, Robert R. Word in Stone: The Role of Architecture in the National Socialist Ideology. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1974. Tellier, Luc-Normand. Urban World History: An Economic and Geographical Perspective. Québec City: Presses de l’Université du Québec, 2009. Tetlock, Philip E., Richard Ned Lebow, and Geoffrey Parker, eds. Unmaking the West: “What- If?” Scenarios that Rewrite World History. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2003. Teughels, Nelleke, and Peter Sholliers, eds. A Taste of Progress: Food at International and World Exhibitions in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries. New York: Routledge, 2016. Teychiné, A.J. Beeld en Beeldenaar: Rotterdam en Mr. K.P. van der Mandele. Rotterdam: A.D. Donker, 1979. Theokas, Andrew C. Grounds for Review: The Garden Festival in Urban Planning and Design. Liverpool: Liverpool university Press, 2004. ------. “Greens to an End,” Landscape Design (December 1992): 41-44. Thießen, Malte. Eingebrannt ins Gedächtnis. Hamburgs Gedenken an Luftkireg und Kriegsende 1943 bis 2005, Forum Zeitgeschichte Vol. 19. Münich: Dölling and Galitz, 2007. Thrift, Nigel. “Driving in the City.” Theory Culture Society 21, No. 41 (2004): 41-59. Timm, Annette F. The Politics of Fertility in Twentieth-Century Berlin. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010. Tipps, Dean C. “Modernization Theory and the Comparative Study of Societies: A Critical Perspective.” Comparative Studies in Society and History Vol. 15, 2 (1973): 199-226. Trentmann Frank, and Flemming Just, eds. Food and Conflict in Europe in the Age of the Two World Wars. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006. Trip, Jan Jacob. What Makes a City: Planning for Quality of Place. Delft: IOS Press, 2007. Troost, Gerdy. Das Bauen im Neuen Reich. Vol. 1. Bayreuth: Gauverlag Bayerische Ostmark, 1938. Tuijl, Erwin van, and Alexander Otgaar. “RDM Campus (Rotterdam).” In Delivering Sustainable Competitiveness: Revisiting the Organizing Capacity of Cities, edited by Luís Carvalho, et.al. New York: Routledge, 2017.

Bibliography 305

Turner, Henry A. Germany from Partition to Reunification. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992. Turner, Ian D. Reconstruction in Post-War Germany: British Occupation Policy and the Western zones, 1945-55. New York: Berg, 1989. Ulzen, Patricia van. “Land van Hoboken: Museumpark in Wording.” In Interbellum Rotterdam; Kunst en Cultuur 1918-1940, edited by Marlite Halbertsma and Patricia van Ulzen. Rotterdam: NAI Uitgevers, 2001, 147-178. ------. Dromen van een Metropool: de Creative Klasse van Rotterdam, 1970-2000. Rotterdam: 010 Uitgverij, 2007. ------. Imagine a Metropolis: Rotterdam’s Creative Class, 1970-2000. Rotterdam: 010 Uitgverij, 2007. Umbach, Maiken. “A Tale of Second Cities: Autonomy, Culture, and the Law in Hamburg and Barcelona in the late-Nineteenth Century.” American Historical Review Vol. 110, No. 3 (2005): 659-692. Urry, John. “The System of Automobility.” Theory, Culture, & Society 21, No. 25 (2004): 25-39. ------. The Tourist Gaze: Leisure and Travel in Contemporary Societies. London: Sage Publications, 1990. Vaccaro, Pamela. Beyond the Ice Cream Cone: the Whole Scoop on Food at the 1904 World’s Fair. St. Louis: Enid Press, 2004. Vagt, Kristina. “Kapt’n Blume lädt Euch all herzlich ein…: Die Inszenierung Hamburgs af der Internationalen Gartenbauausstellung 1973.” In 19 Tage Hamburg Ereignisse und Entiwcklungen der Stadtgeschichte seit den fünfziger Jahren, edited by Christoph Strupp. Munich and Hamburg: Döllig und Galitz, 2012, 175-186. ------. “Zwischen Systemkonkurrenz und Freizeitvergnügen: Die iga 1961 im deutsch-deutschen Kontext.” In Blumenstadt Erfurt: Waid – Gartenbau – iga/egapark, edited by Martin Baumann and Steffen Raßloff. Erfurt: Sutton, 2011, 341-349. ------. Politik durch die Blume: Gartenbauausstellungen in Hamburg und Erfurt im Kalten Krieg (1950-1974). Munich: Döllig und Galitz, 2013. Vanfraechem, Stephan. “Why they are Tall and We are Small! Competition between Antwerp and Rotterdam in the Twentieth Century.” In The World’s Key Industry: History and Economics of International Shipping, edited by Gelina Harlaftis, Stig Tenold, and Jesús M. Valdaliso. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012, 142-157. Verkade, Willem. Democratic Parties in the Low Countries and Germany: Origins and Historical Developments. Leiden: Universitaire Pers Leiden, 1965. Verschaffel, Tom. “The Wind Blows Hard But the Sky Remains Blue: The Message of Expo’58.” In Expo 58: Between Utopia and Reality, edited by Gonzague Pluvinage. Brussels: Brussels City Archive, 2008, 73-93. Visser, Jelle, and Anton Hemerijck. A Dutch Miracle: Job Growth, Welfare Reform, and Corporatism in the Netherlands. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 1997. Voerman, Gerrit, ed. De Nederlandse Eurocommisarissen. Amsterdam: Boom, 1992.

Bibliography 306

Vries, Jan de, and Ad van der Woude. The First Modern Economy: Success, Failure and the Perseverance of the Dutch Economy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997. Vries, Tity de. “De Amerikaanse Cultuurpolitiek ten aanzien van Nederland 1945-1960.” Groniek 88 (1984): 68-79. ------. Complexe Consensus: Amerikaanse en Nederlandse Intellectuelen over politiek en cultuur, 1945-1965. Hilversum: Verloren, 1996. Wagenaar, Cor, and Mieke Dings. Ideals in Concrete: Exploring Central and Eastern Europe. Amsterdam: Fonds BKVB, 2004. ------. “The Inevitability of Progress: Rotterdam and the Fading Image of the City.” In Blessing in Disguise: War and Town Planning in Europe, 1940-1945, edited by Jörn Düwel and Niels Gutschow. Berlin: DOM Publishing, 2013, 104-129. ------. Welvaartsstad in wording, De wederopbouw van Rotterdam, 1940-1952. Rotterdam: NAi Uitgevers, 1993. Wakemann, Rosemary. Modernizing the Provincial City: Toulouse 1945-1975. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1998. Walden, Hans. 75 Jahre Planten un Blomen. Ein Rückblick auf die bewegte Geschichte der "Grünen Oase" im Zentrum Hamburgs; Freundeskreis Planten un Blomen e.V. Hamburg 2010. Walden, Keith. Becoming Modern in Toronto: The Industrial Exhibition and the Shaping of Late- Victorian Culture. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1997. Wallich, Henry C. Mainsprings of the German Revival. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1955. Ward, Stephen V. Selling Places: The Marking and Promotion of Towns and Cities, 1850-2000. London: E & F.N. Spon, 1998. ------. Planning the Twentieth-Century City: The Advanced Capitalist World. Chichester: John Wiley & Sons, 2002. Warmbrunn, Werner. The Dutch under German Occupation. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1963. Wawoczny, Michael. Der Schnitt durch die Stadt, Planungs- und Baugeschichte der Hamburger Ost-West Straße von 1911 bis heute. Hamburg: Dölling und Galitz, 1996. Way, Twigs, and Mike Brown. Digging for Victory: Gardens and Gardening in Wartime Britain. Sevenoaks: Sabrestorm Publishers, 2010. Weber, Max. The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism. Mineola: Dover Publications [First English edition published in 1930], 2003. ------. The Theory of Social and Economic Organization. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1978. Wee, Hermann van der. Prosperity and Upheaval: The World Economy, 1945-1980. London: Penguin Press, 1987. Weilacher, Udo. Visionare Garten: die modernen Landschaften von Ernst Cramer. Basel: Birkhäuser, 2001.

Bibliography 307

Wellock, Thomas R. Critical Masses: Opposition to Nuclear Power in California, 1958-1978. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1998. Weniger, Kay. “Wiederaufbau- und Neubauplanungen in Hamburg 1945-1950: Städtebauliche Kontinuität oder Wandel?” PhD diss., University of Hamburg, 1987. Wentholt, Rob. De Binnenstadsbeleving en Rotterdam. Rotterdam: AD. Donker, 1968. Werner Johe, “Strategisches Kalkül und Wirklichkeit: Das Unternehmen Gomorrah.” Die Grossangriffe der RAF gegen Hamburg im Sommer 1943.” In Grossbritannien und der deutsche Widerstand 1933-1944, edited by Klaus-Jürgen Müller and David N. Dilks. Paderborn: Schöningh, 1994, 217-27. Wesemael, Pieter Johan van. “Architectuur van instructie en vermaak: Een maatschappijhistorische analyse van de wereldtentoonstelling als didactisch verschijnsel.” Phd. Thesis. Technische Universiteit Delft, 1997. Wexler, Immanuel. The Marshall Plan Revisited: The European Recovery Program in Economic Perspective. Westport: Greenwood Press, 1983. Wiesel, Elie. Night. London: MacGibbon & Kee, 1960. Wiesen, S. Jonathan. “Germany’s PR Man: Julius Klein and the Making of Transatlantic Memory.” In Coping with the Nazi Past: West German Debates on Nazism and Generation Conflict, 1955-1975, edited by Philipp Gassert and Alan E. Steinweis. New York: Berghahn Books, 2007, 294-308. ------. “Miracles for Sale: Consumer Displays and Advertising in Postwar West Germany.” In Consuming Germany in the Cold War, edited by David Crew. New York: Berg, 2003, 151-178. ------. West German Industry and the Challenge of the Nazi Past, 1945-1955. Chapel Hill: North Carolina University Press, 2001. Wieviorka, Olivier. Divided Memory: French Recollections of World War II from the Liberation to the Present. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2012. Wilke, Jürgen, ed. Unter Druck gesetzt: vier Kapitel deutscher Pressegeschichte. Cologne: Böhlau Verlag GmbH & Cie, 2002. Winter, Peter de. Ahoy’, E55, Floriade, C70: Evenementen in Rotterdam. Rotterdam: 010 Uitgeverij, 1988. Wischermann, Clemens. “Changes in Population Development, Urban Structures and Living Conditions in Nineteenth-Century Hamburg.” In Population and Society in Western European Port Cities, c. 1650-1939, edited by Richard Lawson and Robert Lee. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2000, 270-304. Wolf, Diane L. Beyond Anne Franke: Hidden Children and Postwar Families in Holland. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2007. Wouters, Nico. Mayoral Collaboration under Nazi Occupation in Belgium, the Netherlands, and France, 1938-46. New York: Palgrave-Macmillan, 2016. Woyke, Meik. “Wohnen im Grünen,” Siedlungsbau und suburban Lebenstile im nördlichen Hamburg von den fünfziger bis zu den siebziger Jahren.” In Zeitgeschichte Hamburg, Nachrichten aus der Forschungsstelle fur Zeitgeschichte in Hamburg 2005, edited by

Bibliography 308

Frank Bajohr, Dorothee Wierling, and Claudia Kemper. Hamburg: Forschungsstelle fur Zeitgeschichte, 2006, 22-49. Wright, Amelia. Future Park: Imagining Tomorrow’s Urban Parks. Collingwood: CSIRO Publishing, 2013. Wünsche, Horst Friedrich. Ludwig Erhards Gesellschafts- und Wirtschaftskonzeptionen: Soziale Marktwirtschaft als politische Ökonomie. Stuttgart: Verlag Bonn Aktuell, 1986. Yago, Glenn. The Decline of Transit: Urban Transportation in German and US Cities, 1900-1970. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984. Yap, Wei Yim. “Container Shipping Services and Their Impact on Container Port Competitiveness.” Phd Dissertation, University of Antwerp, 2010. Young, Louise. Beyond the Metropolis: Second Cities and Modern Life in Interwar Japan. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2013. Zahn, Ernest. Soziologie der Prosperität: Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft im Zeichen des Wohlstandes. Munich: Deutscher Taschenbuch Verlag, 1964. Zanden, Jan L. van., and Richard T. Griffiths. Economische Geschiedenis van Nederland in de 20ste Eeuw. Utrecht: Spectrum, 1989. ------. The Economic History of the Netherlands 1914-1995: a Small Open Economy in the ‘Long’ Twentieth Century. London: Routledge, 1998 Zee, Henri A. van der. The Hunger Winter: Occupied Holland, 1944-1945. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1998. Zeller, Thomas. Driving Germany: The Landscape of the German Autobahn, 1930-1970. New York: Berghahn Books, 2007.