I'm going to do something really obnoxious...

and post one of my favorite essays I ever wrote. I was embarrassed to do this before, and thought it was kind of a show off thing to do. But I'm really just scared that my hard drive might crash one day. and also found this to be somewhat related to recent incidents at wal mart, so...

Julia Norton
Consuming Architecture
Fall, 2006

I'm all lost in the supermarket. 
I can no longer shop happily. I came in here for that special offer. 
A guaranteed personality. – Joe Strummer

SPACE AND THE SPECTACLE: The Evolution of the Department Store Through Design
Joe Strummer’s lyrics from The Clash’s London Calling track “Lost in the Supermarket” demonstrate a key perceptual element in the experience of the mega store, that American culture has become all too familiar with in the present day: the alienation effect. According to French Situationist writer Guy Debord, the notion of “the spectacle” developed this idea of alienation, but more importantly denied all that is living in human existence. He begins his argument by stating that, “The whole life of those societies in which modern conditions of production prevail presents itself as an immense accumulation of spectacles. All that once was directly lived has become mere representation.” While these ideologies meet somewhere in between understanding consumption and its future and the effect the “spectacle” has on society and relationships, the initial development of the term “mass consumption” shows a greater sensitivity towards the mysticism of the spectacle, and its focus on consumer relationships to production and producers. We can see no better example of this than with the evolution of the department store, from its beginnings in the 1860’s through the turn of the century to the late teens. The “dream world” that these spaces initiated becomes attached to Debord’s “spectacle” with the people behind the department store’s conception and development, the creatively charged atmosphere that formed the notion of “visual appeal”, and the social and emotional impact that these environments had on individual consumers, class groups, and the entire rhetoric of American culture. In a way, the growth of the department store language and culture had replaced our fairy tales of struggle and heroism with dreamscapes of material, product, and identity. As Jean Baudrillard writes, “Our markets, our shopping avenues and malls mimic a new-found nature of prodigious fecundity. Those are our valleys of Canaan where flows, instead of milk and honey, streams of neon on ketchup and plastic…”

We see from the beginning, with merchants like Alexander Turney Stewart, Marshall Field, and John Wanamaker, who founded department stores in cities like New York, Chicago, and Philadelphia, that the evolution of this specific consumer environment was laced with the visual metaphor of “the ability to want and choose”. Retailers knew that the time leading to the turn of the century represented, as Wanamaker would call it, “the business age”. The new enticements that these retailers would use to procure an audience: display, advertising, style, service etc. led to the establishment of “design” as a commonly applied term in the consumer world. Historian William Leach writes, “Business pursued the imagination in a way no other group in U.S. history had done. It turned rapidly to new methods of marketing and to the dissemination of strategies of enticement – advertising, display, and decoration, fashion, style, design and consumer service.” The common theme that persisted throughout these methods is that visual appeal contains an emotional charge and is linked to the integration of perception and experience (through display and ambiance), speed (and/or movement), and social/economic relationships in the physical make-up of these spaces and spectacles. This theory of the amplification of the visual can be generally understood from two sources: the display mechanisms (including advertising and show windows) and the interior’s overall aesthetics (sometimes theme driven) and structure.

Elbert Hubbard, Wanamaker’s partner, was under the notion that life was meant to be a series of advertisements. He says, “ Everybody should advertise while they are alive…the man who does not advertise is a dead one, whether he knows it or not…Life is too short for you to hide yourself away mantled in your own modesty.” Wanamaker himself has said, “The time to advertise is all the time.” It was clear around the early teens that the beginning interest in using pictorial and visual lures in newspapers, magazines, billboards, posters, and electrical displays that surrounded and infiltrated almost every part of everyday life served to represent new beacons of mass consumption. These retailers knew, as Leach points out, that “…pictures can attract attention, inspire a measure of loyalty, and excite desire. Striking pictures…succeeded because they gave ‘life’ and ‘meaning’ to otherwise meaningless or lifeless objects; they imparted to goods a potency the goods lacked.” Advertising, seen as a device, was therefore essential in attracting the attention and consciousness of a consumer audience. Furthermore, with department stores in particular, the concept of “visual appeal” began to be applied to another form of advertising: the show window. Leach writes on these “central, eye-level devices”, “nothing competed with them for selling power…They belonged to a constantly expanding landscape of glass, perhaps the most graphic indication that a new economy and culture of desire of extraordinary dimensions was in the works.” The glass environment, a rapidly popularized material, found its way onto store front, simultaneously changing the way consumers perceived goods (as we will also see later with interiors) and creating new class boundaries and distinctions. From this point on, window display designers realized the power of creating this physical yet transparent division between product and consumer, altering their relationship yet also “amplifying the visual”, allowing a theatrical, stage-set quality to entice the viewer. The notion of “associative power”, where a scene, mannequin or object could be reminiscent of people, events, or places, that the viewer could picture themselves as, in, or taking part, became one of the founding elements in Debord’s definition of “the spectacle”. He writes,
“For one to whom the real world becomes real images, mere images are transformed into real beings – tangible figments which are the efficient motor of trancelike behavior. Since the spectacle’s job is to cause a world that is no longer directly perceptible to be seen via different specialized meditations, it is inevitable that it should elevate the human sense of sight to the special place once occupied by touch; the most abstract of the senses, and the most easily deceived, sight is naturally the most readily adaptable to present-day society’s generalized abstraction. This is not to say, however, that the spectacle itself is perceptible to the naked eye – even if that eye is assisted by the ear. The spectacle is by definition immune from human activity, inaccessible to any projected review or correction.”

Debord insinuates that an issue with the “display mechanism” developed by the retailers of the early teens is dangerous because it is essentially manipulative. Another philosopher, Theodore Adorno, in 1944, had a similar idea in mind when writing about the “culture industry”. Thinking primarily about the media, his thoughts of consumer deception also apply to Debord’s idea. He writes,
“…the culture industry perpetually cheats its consumers of what it perpetually promises. The promissory note which, with its plots and staging, it draws on pleasure is endlessly prolonged; the promise, which is actually all the spectacle consists of, is illusory: all it actually confirms is that the real point will never be reached, that the diner must be satisfied with the menu.”

Wanamaker, a beneficiary of “the culture industry”, was also aware of these points, stating that “our minds are full of windows” and “show windows are eyes to meet eyes”. He was fully aware of the promise he was making to the American consumer audience, as were almost all retailers of the time. The show window became a reflection of a society back on itself; a visual conglomeration of personified objects and objects for personality. This wasn’t merely a process of putting “Audrey II” in the window and expecting customers. The “theatrical” quality of show windows, combining a “…quantity of selling materials, and the intermingling and application of color, glass, and light on behalf of the movement of goods” went only so far as to offer an attraction as well as an environment. The actual effect became more psychological than people at the time realized.

Arthur Fraser, a window designer for Marshall Field, emphasized the importance of creating environments (and mannequin displays) that would entice the viewer to actually enter another world. He said that he “hoped to create in the mind of the viewer a psychological harmony” and “a sort of ‘glimpse into the interior of the temple’ that is an inherent desire in all of us.” This idea of “desire” relates to many facets of consumption, yet of particular importance in the show window, and interior show displays, is that class separation is brought on by not just an actual physical force (glass) but by a clear statement of “you can’t have that”. Indeed, breaking the glass (including the philosophy of “you break it you buy it”) becomes a metaphor for class distinction in our society. Picture orphan children at Christmastime with their noses up against the toy display outside Macy’s, or even the breaking of the Sal’s Pizzeria window in the end of Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing. It’s no wonder that many of these department stores initially suffered from shoplifting, primarily from the young women that were their target audience. The objects on display, in addition to the “specification” of objects (e.g. the emergence of various forms of utensils for specific purposes that are more or less founded on a very weak basis of function: as with “the salt spoon”), led to an elitist approach to merchandizing. Also, the “consumer identity” becomes a part of this issue, as purchasing these “objects of desire” acts in defining the consumer’s status and as a personal gratification. Thorstein Veblen’s Theory of the Leisure Class discusses the idea of “necessity” and consumption emerging from class defining fashions and styles that the public wants, and therefore “needs”. These objects of desire and necessity, arranged and displayed in show windows, epitomize the cultural and social manipulation of the masses through a visual language; a glimpse into a fashion, style, lifestyle and taste that at least appears to be obtainable by the elite and deserving.

As with show windows, the interiors of department stores progressed into an entire new realm of commercial design. With inspiration taken from markets and fairs, the architectural layout of the department store combined many devices that afforded greater speed and efficiency, implied grandiose space and organization, allowed browsing to be more pleasing and effective, and, similarly with show windows, created a fantasy; a space meant to embody a certain theme or ambiance that the consumer might project themselves onto. Technical changes added to this effect: entrances were made up of revolving doors, even some entrances extended to the subway eliminating an unnecessary voyage above ground. Ample aisle space was provided for better pedestrian traffic flow. Escalators and elevators were added (placed at the back of the store to encourage browsing through the first floor) which, along with the revolving doors and greater aisle space, increased speed. The use of glass cases, shelves, and counters in the interior provided a similar quality of separation and display that the show windows had already perfected. Mirrored glass became used to broaden and amplify the space, and also served to literally act as a device for self-reflection. The consumers could now visually place themselves into the dream world they are immersed in, taking one step closer to a seemingly obtainable reality, and also, as Leach puts it, “…creating an environment in which they might interact with the goods in the most intimate and personal way.” In a sense this element also ties in the “consumer identity” in a very literal way, combining desire with an actual, tangible experience.

Another aspect of department store interior design is the thematic design, or a “central idea”. The integration of color and light played a key role in creating an ambiance specific to each store. Louis Tiffany, a great advocate of color, designed a glass dome for Marshall Field where each color served a particular significance and transcendent appeal. Leach describes,
“He chose his colors carefully, conscious of an artistic tradition that linked them to ‘distance and boundlessness’ where yellows and reds suggested the ‘near and full-blooded.’ These were ‘essentially atmospheric.’ The dome’s shape, consisting of three concentric circles, contributed to the illusion of open-ended space or of a heavenly domain without limits.”

Such a vivacious display of color and light must have impressed the shoppers at Marshall Field, and furthermore gave them the impression that they were taking part in something as mystical and splendid as the roof over their heads.
One Wanamaker decorator claimed that “people do not buy the thing, they buy the effect.” This statement implies that the interior decoration is a reflection of what the consumer is expecting to buy, and therefore is almost as important as the quality and presentation of the goods themselves. Christmas themes and installations, as one example, reflect not only the goods available to buy as gifts, but serve as having associative power. The term “Christmas spirit”, in a commercial context, wouldn’t have half its weight if it weren’t for the plethora of wreathes, trees, lights, bows, and Santa Clauses that pervade the interiors of department stores to this day. Retailers recognized the commercial appeal of association through display early on, and applied it to their store’s interior in a fiercely competitive manner (with Wanamaker at the forefront).

The experience of the department store remains of great interest in a rhetorical context. Many fictional writers have used the department store as a basis for describing and “cataloging” the process of consumption. Simon Bronner’s article, “Reading Consumer Culture”, illustrates the evolution of consumer desire by using literary texts such as Theodore Dreiser’s Sister Carrie and Harold Frederic’s Damnation of Theron Ware, which both describe each leading character’s fascination with consumer goods and display. In Theron Ware, Ware, a priest, undergoes religious “damnation” as a result of his fascination with objects. Bronner, by using these texts as a demonstration, implies that there is an inherent emotional and moral system involved in the perception and process of a consumer culture. He writes, “In the rhetoric of accumulation and display, goods increased their roles as mediators and conveyors of cultural values, human emotions, and social priorities.” He cites Veblen’s argument that
“The class used consumption to herald a newly attained status by displaying their excesses and by demonstrating the ease, idleness, and self-gratification with which wealth and success were enjoyed…The upsurge in consumption was driven by the need to clarify uncertain social status by accumulating material things, and it also created a model of fashion for others to follow.”

Clearly, Bronner understands what Debord, Adorno and others have noticed: that class distinction and consumer culture go hand in hand. Yet the idea of what he calls the “rags-to-riches mythology” remains very interesting and entertaining to many people, and existed extensively in popular texts. The consumer experience, to be more precise, when demonstrated and cataloged, is a very sexy literary device because it’s something that our society can relate to and appreciate. Leach’s discussion of L. Frank Baum provides great insight into the obsession with display and consumption around the turn of the century. Baum, a very famous show window designer and founder of the Show Window publication before he wrote his famous children’s stories, had a foundation and appreciation for consumer culture from the beginning. Some of his descriptions in the Oz books compare almost exactly to experiences found in the department store display most likely as a result of his occupation and interest. We see a princess who has in her palace display cases of different pretty heads of which she interchanges, giving her both an obsession with collecting these functional “objects” and also a desire to display them in glass cases as a shopkeeper might. We also see a land of cutlery, where dishes, forks, knives, and spoons come alive and have personalities to match their function. This applies to Baum’s own show window design philosophy of “personifying” objects so that they are singled out for their qualities, and in a sense “come alive”. In the third book, Ozma of Oz, Baum goes through a description in which Ozma, the princess of Oz, walks through the collection room of the “Nome King”, where he has, on display, various trinkets, sculptures, vases, toys and any other inanimate object imaginable, that were all previously transformed characters. The purple items were all once the royal family from the country “Ev”, and the green ones were all once people from the Emerald City of Oz. Upon Ozma’s entrance we are given an elaborate description of the lavishness, the abundance, and the awestruck display of which she is greeted with. What we are represented with is, in a sense, a reflection of the late nineteenth/early twentieth century view of the department store display; where each object is at one time desirable yet unobtainable, and the grandiose overabundance of these objects is mediated by a transcendent quality of room upon room of wonder and organization through condensation. Baum takes the traditional fairy tale form and conforms it to an American, consumerist mindset that contemporary readers, both young and old, could understand and relate to.

This new “fairytale” of consumer society relates directly to the notion that the department store, and much of the designed aspects of the consumer experience, combines the perceived seemingly obtainable reality with the dream world of which, for the most part, these retailers sought to provide for their audience. In so doing, they instigated class divisions in addition to mass consumer practice, which without a doubt benefited themselves and many others financially. They also established a new set of standards in the American shopping lifestyle, which had experienced a steady growth and development that continues to this day. The evolution of these spaces of consumption, seen historically and also through popular literature, proved that the emotional and moral systems that Americans had previously operated on had changed, and this change effectively developed the “spectacles” that emerged and the spaces in which these experiences can be observed, conducted, and at times superficially justified; where people are alienated, deceived, yet simultaneously appeased in knowing that their world, identity, and happiness could be defined and improved.


BIBLIOGRAPHY
Adorno, Theodore and Horkheimer, Max. “The Culture Industry: Enlightenment
as Mass Deception

Bronner, Simon J. Reading Consumer Culture.

Debord, Guy. The Society of the Spectacle. New York: Zone Books, 1995

Leach, William. Land of Desire: Merchants, Power, and the Rise of a New
American Culture. New York: Vintage Books, 1993