I WAS nine years old when the Empire Exhibition was held in Glasgow's Bellahouston Park. It was May 1938, and I went with my parents. I still remember the shock of getting off the tramcar – and they were special coronation trams, too – and going into the park through this huge front entrance. Coming upon this enormous, sparkling, colourful, brand new development of modern architecture, I was gobsmacked.
This month marks the 70th anniversary of the Empire Exhibition in Glasgow, which welcomed a staggering 12.5 million visitors through its turnstiles over six months. It was the greatest exhibition of its kind in pre-war Britain, the last showcase of the British Empire, and the epitome of 1930s architecture of the time. In those six months it demonstrated the talent of Scottish architects, and showed us to the world.
At that time, Scotland, and particularly Glasgow, was in deep industrial depression. It was felt that an Exhibition showcasing our industries, progress and potential would be a fillip "to inspire the people of Scotland not only with confidence but with determination to face the facts".
These were the words of Sir James Lithgow, the famous industrialist and shipbuilder. What a shocking contrast the Empire Exhibition was to the grimy old Glasgow of my youth. It only now becomes clear to me how astonishingly modern some of the buildings were, even by today's standards. Everything was bright and clean and wonderfully coloured. Glass structures lined wide, splendidly landscaped boulevards. Flags and banners flapped and fountains spouted more water into the air than I'd ever seen before. Water cascaded down the hill below a tall, futuristic tower that thrust itself up into the sky. All around were sculptures, murals and bandstands. Carloads of people scooted about, and the entire area was in constant action.
As a nine-year-old the difference between the Victorian grandeur of Glasgow's soot-cloaked buildings and this glowing, neon-lit wonderland was incredible. There was a funfair at one end and a Highland clachan at the other, though I didn't go on the rides because, like many Glaswegians, we didn't have much money to spare. It must have been one of the first exhibitions that had an interactive element. The interiors of the pavilions were so new, so fascinating; full of marvellous objects and displays, buttons to press and things to find out. I remember the Victoria Falls crashing thunderously in a welter of spray. What an experience it was for a youngster like me. Looking back, I ask myself if this was the moment I decided I wanted to be an architect.
It was a splendid showcase for Scotland's young and rising architects, among them Basil Spence and Jack Coia, from Edinburgh and Glasgow respectively. They made up the team of Thomas Tait, the man responsible for St Andrew's House, the seat of Scottish government. The entire exhibition was constructed in just 10 months, a sterling demonstration of pre-planning and pre-fabrication. It was an immense achievement, something you just couldn't do now. That was because Glasgow was a centre of heavy industry, the Workshop of the Empire, full of engineers and furniture makers. I don't think anyone had realised until then that we had that level of talent in Scotland.
The London critics thought it would be a stodgy affair but soon found that they had to write openly about how taken aback they were. It had a togetherness no exhibition before had shown, and which was astonishing to people south of the border. The whole idea was to invigorate Glasgow, to make people think about the future. It created a moment of optimism about what the future might hold in a time of depression, and it couldn't have happened anywhere else in Scotland.
Thankfully, Glasgow is marking this anniversary. A series of seven documentary films from the Scottish Screen Archive produced for screening at the Empire Exhibition can be seen at the Glasgow Film Theatre. At the House For An Art Lover you can see a digital reconstruction of the exhibition (I was one of the advisers on the panel for this incredible project) while a series of amateur films – some of the earliest colour films, in fact – of the exhibition are being shown at Glasgow's Lighthouse. Watching these has brought my memories flooding back. See them and you will experience the shock of the new, even now. Just look at the clothes the people are wearing – the men in their cloth caps, the women in their hats – and compare them with these incredible, modern buildings. It just doesn't match up.
A year after the exhibition, of course, the war intervened. We faced austerity in Britain, and material and food rations carried on for years. This had a huge impact on building. I went on to secondary school, and when the war ended in 1945, at the age of 15, I started as an architectural apprentice in Glasgow's Housing Department. Funnily enough, I became involved in the Homes Fit For Heroes project that was being proposed, a flashback to the Empire Exhibition.
An even closer connection came about in 1954 when I went to work for Jack Coia (of Gillespie, Kidd and Coia), one of Glasgow's leading architects, who had been a member of the exhibition's architectural team. I remember how he liked to talk about working with Tommy Tait, the exhibition's chief architect.
As a young, 18-year-old architect, I went to London to look at modern buildings, about 12 of them in total. Combined with what I had seen at the Empire Exhibition, this was my total experience of modern architecture. The Empire Exhibition's legacy was an impression in the minds of people, because it took years for material to get published and for people to become aware of just how incredible it was. Now I realise it was at the cutting edge of modernity, and that it inspired a whole generation of architects. Looking back, I also see it was a model for what was going to happen after the war with pre-fabrication and the innovation in structural techniques.
I have said before that if I was born somewhere else I would never have been an architect. I was born in Glasgow, which is full of magnificent buildings. But the modernity of that bright red, blue and white flag-flying world against the Victorian grandeur of Glasgow was what really did it for me. My love of modernity came from the Empire Exhibition.
• Andy MacMillan is Emeritus Professor of the Mackintosh School of Architecture.
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The Empire Exhibition 1938: Films of Scotland, GFT, May 18 (followed by panel discussion with experts including Andy MacMillan). Films of the Empire Exhibition, the Lighthouse, until June 22. 1938 Empire Exhibition Brought Back to Life, House For An Art Lover, Mackintosh Suite •
www.empireexhibition1938.co.ukThe full article contains 1187 words and appears in Scotland On Sunday newspaper.
