The 1964-1965 New York World's Fair was a swan song for the unbridled optimism of the "Space Age." At its heart was the General Motors Pavilion, a structure that didn't just house cars; it housed a philosophy. Following the success of the 1939 Futurama, GM doubled down on the idea that technology, guided by American corporate ingenuity, would solve every human problem—from traffic congestion to the harsh climates of the deep sea and outer space. It was a vision of a world where man had finally "tamed" nature through engineering.

The retrofuturism displayed in your postcard—with its moon crawlers, underwater resorts, and turbine-driven cars—represents the peak of the Atomic Age. This was a time when the "near future" was viewed with excitement rather than anxiety. GM's vision was one of total mobility; they imagined massive "road-builders" that could laser-cut highways through jungles in seconds. It reflected a society that believed the suburban lifestyle of the 1950s would naturally expand to every corner of the globe and beyond.

Architecturally, the pavilion was a masterpiece of Googie and MCM design. Designed by Albert Kahn Associates, the building featured a sloping, 10-story high "canopy" that mimicked the sleek lines of the cars GM was selling. It was "Architecture of the Highway"—designed to be understood at high speeds, with sweeping curves and dramatic cantilevered sections. This style heavily influenced the Mid-Century Modern movement, pushing residential and commercial architects to experiment with "space-age" materials like reinforced concrete, glass, and steel to create structures that looked like they were ready for liftoff.

Ultimately, Futurama II was more than an advertisement; it was a cultural touchstone that defined what "the future" looked like for an entire generation. Looking at your postcard today, we see a beautiful, stylized dream of a 21st century that never quite arrived—a world of silver jumpsuits and autonomous turbine cars—reminding us of a time when the horizon felt limitless.

WHERE SPRING comes early and stays. Tulips, daffodils, petunias will dance and flutter in garden boxes along entire front of house. Perfect balance and symmetry achieved by long low overhang and varied window treatment. Perfect balance again evident in shape of living room with its fireplace and exciting corner window. Kiddies will love their oatmeal eating at this breakfast bar. Note unusual arrangement of kitchen cabinets. Full basement a challenge to embryo carpenters and make-it-yourself enthusiasts.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
source: 53 house plans for 1953 by Rudolph A. Matern

Gemini AI Rendering

It is a thrill to finally share the latest addition to the collection: an original 1964 promotional still from the Universal Pictures fantasy-comedy, The Brass Bottle. This black-and-white gloss captures a moment of classic mid-century tension, featuring the legendary Tony Randall, the formidable Ann Doran, and the incomparable Barbara Eden. There is something uniquely tactile about holding a piece of physical cinema history—a "Property of National Screen Service Corp" artifact that once sat in a theater lobby, inviting audiences into a world of magic and mishaps.

The Brass Bottle is a delightful time capsule of 1960s screwball fantasy. Based on the 1900 novel by F. Anstey, the film follows Harold Ventimore (Randall), an architect who inadvertently releases a long-imprisoned Jinnee (Burl Ives) from an antique brass bottle. Unlike the benevolent magic we often see, this genie’s attempts to "help" Harold usually result in chaotic social disasters, particularly involving Harold’s fiancée, Sylvia (Eden). It is a film that leans heavily into the "fish out of water" trope, buoyed by the impeccable comedic timing of its cast.

Historically, this film holds a fascinating place in television lore. In a "weird way," as many fans note, The Brass Bottle served as the spiritual precursor and literal audition for one of TV’s most iconic roles. Writer Sidney Sheldon watched Barbara Eden’s performance in this film and saw the perfect blend of charm, comedic wit, and ethereal beauty. It was this very performance that convinced him she was the only choice to play the lead in his upcoming series, I Dream of Jeannie. Interestingly, in the film, Barbara plays the "mortal" frustrated by magic, but just one year later, she would be the one inhabiting the bottle herself.

Of course, we cannot discuss this photo without mentioning how absolutely radiant Barbara Eden is. Even in a still frame, her presence is luminous. Dressed in the chic, structured elegance of the early 60s—seen here in a beautifully textured suit—she embodies the "girl next door" with an undeniable cinematic spark. Her expressive eyes and effortless poise steal every scene, proving why she became a timeless fashion icon and one of the most beloved faces in Hollywood history.

"LE DERNIER CRI" — the last word, to quote the French. General impression of one grand sweep of exterior seems to set up a happy partnership between life within and the out-of-doors. The open living room and dining room keyed to enjoyment of all seasons with large fireplace and outdoor patio. Breakfast nook basks in the sunshine of completely windowed corner. Huge pantry off kitchen. Huge storage room off hall. Specialties: two lavatories in bath to be shared; built-in vanity in two bedrooms.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
source: 53 house plans for 1953 by Rudolph A. Matern

Gemini AI Rendering

 There is a specific kind of magic found in silver gelatin prints, especially those that captured the birth of cinematic surrealism. I am thrilled to share the latest addition to my collection: an original on-set production still of Josette Day as Belle.

This isn't just a photograph; it's a piece of history. The reverse side bears the typed provenance of London Film Productions Ltd., marking the film's arrival at the Rialto on Coventry Street for its premiere on Friday, October 31st. Imagine sitting in a darkened London theater on Halloween night in the 1940s, watching Jean Cocteau’s dreamscape unfold for the first time.

In this photo, Josette Day embodies the "Beauty" that Cocteau sought: a face that looked as though it belonged in a 17th-century painting. Born in Paris, Day was a child prodigy of the theater, but it was her role as Belle that immortalized her.

Her performance is a masterclass in stillness. While the Beast (played by Jean Marais) is all movement and fur and anguish, Day provides the calm, luminous center. She didn't just play a fairy tale character; she gave Belle a sense of agency and quiet strength that was rare for the era.

To speak of this film is to speak of the genius of Jean Cocteau. A poet, playwright, artist, and filmmaker, Cocteau didn't use CGI—he used imagination. He famously told his crew that he wanted to achieve "the beauty of the everyday."

He used simple tricks—running film backward to make "magic" happen, using real human arms as candelabras, and relying on the incredible costumes by Christian Bérard. Cocteau’s La Belle et la Bête remains the gold standard for fairy tale adaptations because it feels like a dream that you can actually touch.

Released in 1946, the film served as a much-needed escape for a post-war Europe. It is a visual poem about the transformative power of love and the thin line between the monstrous and the divine. This photo, with Day’s upward gaze and the soft, directional lighting, captures that "Cocteau glow" perfectly. It is a centerpiece in my collection that reminds me why we fall in love with the movies in the first place.

Holding this photo, one can almost feel the texture of the "dream" Cocteau sought to film. It serves as a reminder of a time when cinema was a tool for magic, turning a simple fairy tale into a profound exploration of the soul. Adding this to the collection doesn't just preserve a face; it preserves the moment when London first witnessed one of the most beautiful films ever made.

SMARTLY DESIGNED in contemporary manner. A one- and two-story combination. Accented by trellised overhang, built-up masonry flower boxes. Second story "pent house" provides two extra bedrooms and bath, opens on large sun deck cleverly screened from street. Unusually large living room extends through house, merges with dining room on garden side. Indoor-outdoor planting distinguishes great picture window placed at an angle. Window wall of dining room opens on secluded dining porch. Big storage room adjoins kitchen and porch. Kitchen entered from garage. Cross ventilation for every bedroom. Nine large closets. Wood storage off of rear hall.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
source: 53 house plans for 1953 by Rudolph A. Matern

Gemini AI Rendering