Positioned so that, on camera, a 70-foot model of a “rocket-powered ship” was visible in the background, Walt Disney clutched a plaque in one hand and a small microphone in the other. It was July 17, 1955, but when the live televised tour of his new theme park in Anaheim, California, reached Tomorrowland, the 90 million Americans tuned into the opening-day broadcast suddenly found themselves in 1986—at least according to the 15-foot-tall Clock of the World at the park’s entrance.
“Tomorrow,” Walt read from the plaque as he dedicated the forward-looking section of Disneyland, “offers new frontiers in science, adventure, and ideals: the atomic age, the challenge of outer space, and the hope for a peaceful and unified world.” Then, following the release of a substantial flock of doves, a nuclear physicist used ping-pong balls and mousetraps to simulate an atomic chain reaction while hyping the endless possibilities of this new technology.
It had been a decade since the United States dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, causing an estimated 210,000 deaths and immeasurable destruction, contributing to the end of World War II, and ushering in the atomic age. As millions of GIs returned from the war, many settled in the country’s growing suburbs with their families, where housing was affordable yet compact.
The solution? Sleek, streamlined, functional interiors, which often incorporated conspicuous references to the basis of the technology that helped bring the soldiers home: the atom. Or, more accurately, the ball-and-stick representations of a model of an atom you’d draw in elementary school science class.
Despite their dark origins, the vibrant colors and playful shapes of atomic age design were embraced in both interior and exterior residential and commercial spaces through the postwar years and into the early 1960s. “The words ‘atomic’ and ‘nuclear’ were on the tip of everyone’s tongue because of the dramatic ending to the war,” explains Howard Hawkes, an interior designer and cofounder of H3K Home+Design, a Palm Springs-based firm specializing in all things midcentury modern. “Atomic technology became a national obsession—and so did imagery of the atom.”
Patterns, prints, furniture, and decor that drew inspiration from nuclear science infiltrated homes and pop culture. The exuberant style provided people with a hopeful, idealistic version of the future in movies, on television, and at theme parks. To this day, the atomic age aesthetic remains visual shorthand for the future.
Here’s a look back at the history of this decor of the future, including its place in the ongoing midcentury-modern revival of the present.
A fusion of science and design
The postwar era wasn’t the first time groundbreaking scientific innovations influenced design. As early as the 1890s—roughly a decade after the first sections of Manhattan were electrified—architects and other artists were incorporating lightning bolts, light bulbs, and telegraph wires depicting the invisible yet powerful force into their work. This theme continued through the 1920s, when the zigzags of electrical currents integrated seamlessly into the emerging Art Deco aesthetic’s sharp geometric ornamentation.
By the 1930s, a style within the Art Deco movement known as Streamline Moderne was gaining momentum. Unlike some of the period’s more opulent and ornate flourishes, Streamline Moderne design, as its name suggests, was all about the stripped-down, efficient functionality of the ongoing Machine Age, also drawing inspiration from the Bauhaus and International Style coming out of Europe.
Centered on emerging technologies and the seemingly limitless possibilities of human innovation, Streamline Moderne style overly referenced the aerodynamic shapes of modes of transportation like airplanes, automobiles, ships, and streamliner trains. In addition to flat-roof, asymmetrical, curvilinear residential and commercial buildings, designers and manufacturers created indoors spaces—and products to fill them—with similar shapes: everything from lounge chairs and table fans, to garbage pails and juicers.
After World War II, atomic age design picked up where Streamline Moderne left off, according to Alessandra Wood, PhD, design historian and author of Designed to Sell: The Evolution of Modern Merchandising and Display, which focuses on American department stores from the 1930s through the 1960s.
“Stylistic devices of streamline design—like [the] aeronautical shapes of a torpedo, airplane, or train—also became synonymous with this notion of futuristic design during the atomic era,” she explains, noting that atomic age design is considered part of the midcentury-modern movement.
As was the case during the introduction of electricity, the unprecedented might of nuclear energy simultaneously instilled fear and hope in Americans, and atomic age design spoke to that duality. “At that time, there was a lot of focus on the atom because of what was happening with the nuclear arms race—especially the atomic bomb,” Alessandra explains. “It was something that was really scary for people, but seeing the symbol of the atom was a way for people to start to feel more comfortable with the nuclear world.”
Beyond quelling national anxieties, Alessandra says that the futuristic look of atomic age design reflected the hope that the technology would make people’s lives—and the world—a better place. “Atomic technology created this perceived optimism in the United States and made Americans feel safe and powerful,” Howard notes.
Features of Atomic Age Design
When Brussels was selected to host the 1958 World’s Fair—the first to take place in Europe since the end of World War II—a 335-foot-tall model of a nine-atom iron crystal, known as the Atomium, served as the symbol of the event. Though other atomic age designs weren’t quite so literal, many did feature similar ball-and-stick details.
What we recognize today as Sputnik-style light fixtures are probably the best-known example of atomic age design. While the modern chandeliers have been around since at least 1939, their resemblance to the Soviet satellite launched in 1957 resulted in their enduring nickname. Other examples of iconic atomic decor include George Nelson’s Ball Wall Clock, introduced in 1949, and the Eames Hang-It-All, which came out in 1953.
Gradually, starburst shapes joined the interpretations of a model of an atom—possibly as a representation of an atomic reaction. It popped up everywhere from wallpaper and textiles, to other home furnishings, though most notably, in the Franciscan Ceramics Starburst pattern, which was introduced in 1954 and adorns dishware and decorative tiles.
Along with the starburst and representation of the atom, the boomerang shape was also an atomic-era favorite, showing up in furniture and decor, as well as in patterns and prints. “It was considered futuristic at the time and looped into high-tech pieces like refrigerators and automobiles,” Alessandra adds. According to Howard, the motif also made its way outdoors in the form of boomerang-shaped swimming pools.
Though it can read like the outline of Saturn, halos encircling other figures—meant to show electrons spinning around an atom—are another hallmark of atomic age design. Interestingly, so were shapes like diamonds and amoebas, which Howard says “plugged into more of an organic vibe,” embracing a different branch of science. These atomic-era figures were incorporated throughout the home, including on kitchen and bathroom hardware, doorbell covers, and in repeating patterns embellishing flooring, upholstery, and wall coverings.
Overall, the atomic age color palette “leaned toward primary colors, with shades of blue or teal, orange, red, and yellow,” Alessandra explains. One notable exception was the pairing of pink with different greens, ranging from mint to forest, which Howard says was a particularly popular choice for bathrooms. Along with these vibrant hues, white was often incorporated into home decor, representing “the idea of a clean, bright future” people hoped was ahead, Alessandra notes.
From light fixtures and doorknobs to decorative trim along the edge of a table or countertop, metallic finishes—especially chrome and powder-coated steel—featured prominently in atomic age design. There was also a trend in home furnishings Alessandra describes as “things you wouldn’t expect to be made of metal,” including, for example, a chair with a powder-coated steel finish where you’d typically find upholstery.
From the Atomic Age to the Space Age
Like the era’s fashions, aspects of atomic age home design evolved between the end of World War II and the beginning of the 1960s. “Homes from the early 1950s had clean lines and a natural aesthetic: wood paneling, slats, cabinets where you’d see the grain and knots in the wood—it was a bit more primitive-looking,” Howard says. “By the early 1960s, there had been a transition towards more fabricated materials, getting closer to Space Age design.”
So when does the atomic age end and the Space Age begin? It’s not exactly clear-cut.
“In the 2000s, the terms ‘atomic age,’ ‘midcentury modern,’ ‘Space Age,’ and ‘minimalism’ all started to be used interchangeably as descriptions of the postwar period, but there are clear distinctions,” Howard says. “While atomic age design was centered on the conquering of the atom and nuclear energy, Space Age design was more about conquering space and going to the moon.”
But, as Alessandra points out, at their core, both midcentury-modern aesthetics are visions of what people thought life in the future would look like, so it’s not surprising that there are similarities—even after the central theme shifted from atomic energy to space travel. For example, the Googie architecture, amoeba-shaped furniture, and space cars seen on The Jetsons referenced both atomic and Space Age designs—which makes sense, given the cartoon’s original run from 1962 to 1963.
By then, Americans’ fascination with outer space had been increasing steadily. “Broadcast television grew quite a bit during this time,” Howard explains. “You could watch rockets taking off live on TV, so it really brought space travel to the forefront, which gradually eclipsed the public’s interest in all things atomic.”
This was no more obvious than in Tomorrowland, where, in 1966, the Clock of the World—once responsible for welcoming guests to both the park and the year 1986— was deemed outdated and removed from the park to make room for more space-themed attractions.
Bringing Atomic Age Design to the 21st Century
After the popularity of midcentury-modern design peaked in the 1950s and 1960s, it barely went out of style before reemerging in the late 1990s. And while certain aspects of atomic-age design—like Sputnik-style chandeliers, and sleek furniture in natural wood finishes—have been fixtures of the movement’s ongoing revival, other components were left behind.
“The midcentury-modern design that we saw prolifically in people’s homes [in the postwar era], and then again in its current resurgence, feels livable and approachable, whereas atomic design can be kitschy,” Alessandra says. “Atomic design in the 21st century is toned down a lot—except when people are looking to create a very nostalgic space.”
This is the approach that Howard and his H3K Home+Design cofounder Kevin Kemper take when restoring midcentury-modern homes in Palm Springs: incorporating subtle nods to atomic age design without making the houses feel like a museum, or the set of a TV period drama.
“We try to let the house and its original features serve as an inspiration and dictate a little bit of what we do,” Howard explains. “For example, instead of sourcing original reproduction hardware from that era, we might use a motif or a pattern that we had seen in the home to pay homage to its original design in a more contemporary way.”
Once again, there’s a duality to atomic age design—except this time, instead of speaking to the hopes and fears of postwar America, it manages to read as both dated and futuristic.
Alessandra suggests this is possible because atomic and Space Age architecture and decor continue to feature in depictions of the future in popular culture, and, in turn, our imagination. “It’s a future that we have yet to achieve,” she concludes. “The utopian vision of the future that was predicted in the midcentury—things like flying cars—we’re not quite there. We have a lot of new technology, but we’re not living like the Jetsons, so we’re still holding onto the vision of the future we had growing up.”
Here are 15 items that channel the spirit of atomic age design:
