Post #596447 by bigbrotiki on Thu, Jul 7, 2011 3:22 AM

Great finds, Tikicoma! Those cartoons! And the article indeed brings up some interesting points:

First of all it makes me wonder if when Walter Clark took over in 1957, he went more "generic steak house" in the style. The above interior photo, with its white table linens and no leopard print upholstery in sight, just doesn't seem to match the elaborate decor described in the 1951 article. But then again, one photo alone might be misleading. The bar sounds like it was the most interesting part of the room.

Second, what Sabu said about the music is right. "South Seas Music is being played by versatile Doris Hill at her quiet organ..." supports my Pre-Tiki/Tiki observations: That there was a nowadays hard to perceive generation gap between the Pre-Tiki and the Tiki era: SCA designer Florian Gabriel once put it in words like this:"The South Seas theme had become tired, and then Tiki came along and gave it a new lease on life."

The "Quiet organ music" described in the article clearly was part of the Lawrence Welk generation, the Swing generation of the pre- and post-WWII decade. But beginning in the mid-50s, this somewhat sedate style was rejuvenated by the loungey Jazz of Exotica and the edgier imagery of primitive art. Maybe Walter Clark perceived the original concepts of Bill Mead and Bob Trent as dated, but was not hip enough to go full "Stephen Crane Kon Tiki style" when he took over, rather relying on the experience with his other, "safer" restaurants.

Third, the now repeatedly mentioned idea of the WWII Pacific Theater veterans being a major cause of the Tiki trend, "bringing back images of South Sea maidens and palm huts from the islands" deserves a more differentiated view. As the article states: "Bill Mead IS NOT QUITE CERTAIN whether the idea (for the decor) dates back from the year-and-a-half he served with the Armed Forces in New Guinea and the Philippines..." I think I know why he is not quite certain:

Anybody who has seen HBO's "The Pacific" can tell that palm-studded beaches more often meant carnage, that the sun wasn't something to get a tan but meant sweating under the helmet in the humid heat, and that jungle sounds were not equaled with Martin Denny-esque relaxation but with tense patrols through unknown territory. These guys did not decorate their tents with native art and Hula girl photos, but with American pin up girls - and all they dreamed of was mainland U.S.A., and how the hell to get off that god-forsaken, middle-of-nowhere little piece of coral rock they were stuck on.

Granted, there probably were a lucky few who were stationed behind the lines and carved their little niches somewhere in between some palms, or even were stationed on Hawaii. But the majority of Pacific war G.I.s had different, non-paradisaical experiences. I am not doubting that because of the Pacific war, tens of thousands of Americans experienced the tropics for the first time, and that that broadened their vision - but in much more complex and conflicted ways than the simplification of the "South Pacific" driven cliches let's you believe.

The dream world of the Polynesian paradise already existed BEFORE the Pacific war, and it continued after - with or without the veterans. Their story just fit in well with the trend, and as the memories of the their hardships passed, was assimilated by it, their having been abroad being used for credentials of authenticity. It was the logical thing to do for any entrepreneur, and continued the tradition of embellishing and candy-coating the fabricated ideal of the South Seas Island paradise.

[ Edited by: bigbrotiki 2011-07-07 03:27 ]