In my previous post (it’s
been a while, I know) I started discussing the design of playground equipment
of the past. Specifically, I was
thinking about the large concrete turtle that was a fixture in many playgrounds
across the U.S. throughout the 50s, 60s, and 70s. Manufactured by a company called Creative Playthings,
the turtle was just one of several playground elements I remember from my
childhood. All of these things, I discovered
while researching this article, were made by the same company.
The playground I
specifically reference here was the Hilery Park playground in South Buffalo,
New York, but I suspect there were dozens, if not hundreds, of playgrounds
across the country stocked with Creative Playthings items. Since they were all made of concrete (seen as
unsafe nowadays) many of these amazing mid-century designs have been torn down
and replaced with presumably safer (but definitely blander) playground
equipment. Finding evidence of its
existence is hard, and that’s probably most evident with the playground
construction known as the Fantastic Village.
Before delving into the
Fantastic Village, however, a short history of Creative Playthings will help to
establish their artistic pedigree. It
was a company invested in art and design as much as childhood development. (I must start by giving credit where credit
is due. Much of the info I was able to
find on the company came from the article entitled “Creative Playthings:
Educational Toys and Postwar American Culture” by Amy F. Ogata. Read the original here). The company was started by Frank and Theresa
Caplan. Frank Caplan was an educator who
truly believed that toys could stimulate childhood development and
imagination. Creative Playthings
creations were intentionally stark and non-specific. This helped spark creativity in a child’s
developing mind. One of the company’s
first mass-produced products were a set of simple hollow wooden blocks. These could be stacked and arranged any way
the child chose. They were fort,
dollhouse, and bookcase all in one. Really,
they could be anything the child wanted them to be. They also epitomized the simple and elegant
designs of the company. Just maple boxes
open on one end, they were simple constructions that could become complex in
the mind of the child playing with them.
 |
| Virginia Dortch Dorazio |
Caplan later started working
with Victor D’Amico, who was in charge of educational programming at the Museum of Modern Art. This partnership eventually
led to the creation of the Fantastic Village.
In 1953, Creative Playthings, MoMA, and Parent’s Magazine co-sponsored a competition to find designs that
met the company’s standards of inventive design paired with childhood
stimulation and exercise. The winner was
a 28 year old painter named Virginia Dortch Dorazio (sometimes written D’Orazio). Her design consisted of concrete-walled rooms
punctuated with holes of varying sizes that could be used as windows, doorways,
or climbing grips. The structures were
held together with metal bars that could also be used for climbing. This was the Fantastic Village. After winning the competition, Dorazio’s
design was put into full production by Creative Playthings and featured in
their catalogue. Below are some photos I
was able to find of the design.
What’s interesting looking
at these photos is that the configuration of the rooms is different in every
photo. Like Caplan’s maple boxes that
could be arranged in many different combinations, it seems that the Fantastic
Village had no set plan or scheme for the pieces. I was unable to discover whether Creative
Playthings sent multiple installation ideas with the set, or whether it was up
to the purchaser to set it up how they chose.
Regardless, it perfectly fit the company’s ideas on open-ended
play. The Fantastic Village could be a
playhouse, fortress, or castle.
Unfortunately, I was only able to find black and white photos of the
piece, and the Fantastic Village was definitely colored. I remember the concrete was yellow, blue,
red, and green. Also unfortunate was
that all of the photos I could find seem to be promotional photos sent out by
the company to promote the product. I
couldn’t find any pictures of a Fantastic Village in situ. I was certainly not
able to find any contemporary photos of one.
I have no idea of how many were sold.
That’s sad because it leads me to believe that every one of the
Fantastic Villages sold in the 50s and 60s has by now been torn down. It’s possible that they now exist only in the
memories of children (now adults) who played on them many years ago.
Of course, when I was
a child I had no idea I was playing on a piece of cutting edge mid-century
modern design endorsed by one of the most famous museums in the world. I didn’t know the name “Fantastic Village”
either. We called it the “Swiss Cheese”. Design concerns and child psychology and
development didn’t interest us. It was
just fun. Perhaps it also helped me
become a more creative person. As is turn
out, I was being influenced by artists even before I truly know what art was.
Next time, a new topic. It may be something you've never heard of.
