Wednesday, 6 May 2015

No Time For The Present

The Festival of Britain brought a touch of modernity to the country; but there was also a deep archaeological connection and a celebration of the past. As the South Bank site was cleared, archaeological investigation deliberately took place. Finds were made- including a skeleton – from periods throughout London’s history.  When the Festival was up and running there was much reference to the past from within the futuristic architecture. Many of the themes explored were put into context using historical artefacts.  One of the themes was entitled “The People of Britain” and this was convened by an archaeologist (Jacquetta Hawkes). 

The Festival was rooted in a celebration of the past – of Britain’s historical landscape. This tied in with a general heightened fascination with this subject at this time.  Just three years later, the discovery of the Temple of Mithras on the other side of the Thames would give archaeology a massive boost.  People would queue for hours to see the remains of the temple and there would be unprecedented newspaper coverage.  Meanwhile, the work of poets and artists who gloried in British landscapes seem to have had a golden age (viewed from this end of the 20th Century anyway.)  As an example, I would cite the work of John Betjeman.  His poetry has a heightened sense of place and what it means to the inhabitants.

The icons of the Festival are however futuristic.  The Festival Hall, the Dome of Discovery and the Skylon all celebrate modern design and look forward.  So it seems that the only thing that wasn’t welcome was the present. Another Festival icon, the multicoloured abacus screen, was erected to block out the views of the dirty and dogeared streets around Waterloo Station.  A film made after the Festival had closed, where we take a tour with architect Sir Hugh Casson specifically tells us this.


 As soon as the Festival was over the South Bank attractions were dismantled – with the exception of the Festival Hall.  The dome and the Skylon were sent for scrap.  Churchill, who had just returned as Prime Minister, sanctioned this without sentiment.  There was no sense that anything should be reprieved for posterity.


The people of 1951 did not want to stand still, they wanted to forget their immediate history, showing just how much the war was still a part of the British people.  They wanted to take the best of their long term, idealised history into a future of clean lines, bright colours and technology.