Tokyo 1964: The Olympic Benchmark
Japan House’s new exhibition explores the design of, and impact of these Games.
Written by Craig Berry
Designer & Writer
For about four weeks this year, the eyes of the world were focused on Tokyo, Japan for the 2020* Summer Olympic and Paralympic Games. The internationally loved spectacle is the pinnacle of sport and once every four years (two if you include the Winter Olympics) we watch, binge, laugh and cry at the sports and athletes we love but also find ourselves obsessing over some sports we’ve never seen or even heard of before (who knew that synchronised swimming could be so exciting?)
*Originally scheduled to take place in 2020, but actually happened in 2021. You can probably guess why…
The appeal of the Olympics is obvious though; you’re watching the best of the best battle it against the rest with super-human strength and endurance whether that’s over 50 metres in the pool, at 13.5 metres a second on the track or covering 42,195 metres in 2 hours, one minute and 39 seconds. But, as important as the sport obviously is, it’s not just about that which makes the Olympics so appealing; but also the city in which the Games take place (Summer & Winter Games). Every two years we’re given a chance to experience the host city, its natural and manufactured landscapes, its architecture, its people and the local culture.
These kinds of things are often the defining factors that designers look to when branding each of the Games, an often overlooked but crucial aspect each time. It’s what people see first and what is left imprinted in their memories long after the Games are over. Perhaps a skewed perspective from myself as a designer, but I cannot list a single athlete* from the 1968 Games in Mexico City but the logo is unmistakable and unforgettable, even after 53 years.
*For their athletic performances, not political statements, i.e. Tommie Smith and John Carlos’ Black Power salute.
Taking the 1968 Games as my first thought of an iconic branded Olympics here feels apt since these were the first after Tokyo in 1964, itself, the first to have been branded with a “proper” cohesive visual identity; setting the bar and standard for everything to come after.
A new exhibition at Japan House*, in Kensington, London takes a look at the 1964 Tokyo Olympic Games under the premise of “designing tomorrow”:
“Tokyo 1964: Designing Tomorrow explores the pioneering design strategy and lasting legacy of the historic Tokyo 1964 Olympic Games, the first to be held in Asia, which are often seen as a turning point for Japan.
This exhibition shows how a group of young Japanese designers and architects harnessed the opportunity presented by the 1964 Olympic Games to reframe the country’s profile and tell a fresh story to the world. Their ground-breaking designs are important as they have informed the design principles of all subsequent major international sporting events.
Many of the exhibits are on loan outside Japan for the first time. There is the chance to see the first ever sports pictograms, the original Games posters and the award-winning Tokyo 1964 symbol designed by Kamekura Yūsaku which is still as fresh today as when it was first presented to the world. There is the original architectural model of the gracefully constructed Yoyogi National Gymnasium by Tange Kenzō, as well as uniforms worn by workers at the Games, medals, tickets and medal ceremony kimono.”
Japan House writeup on Tokyo 1964: Designing Tomorrow.
*Japan House is “the cultural home of Japan in London” with events, exhibitions, Michelin-listed restaurant and range of crafts, homeware and accessories for an authentic encounter with contemporary Japan. Also with a library and travel zone.
The Olympic Games in Tokyo 1964 were also the first to be held in the Asian continent and as much a celebration of sport, it was a powerful expression of Japan’s recovery and confidence only 20 years after the end of WWII. The Games allowed Japan’s architects, designers, engineers and brands to be on the world stage—giving them a new audience as the first Games to be televised—through the graphic visual identity and the architecture of sporting venues which still exist today, long after the medal winners.
It’s hard to imagine the Olympic Games now without thinking of the logos that have become to define them and the designer’s responsible for them such as Lance Wyman’s Mexico 1968, Otl Aicher’s Munich 1972, Josep Maria Trias’ Barcelona 1992, Wolf Ollins’ London 2012 or Fred Gelli’s Rio 2016. Each logo and subsequent visual identity is enshrined in design history, for good or bad.
It’s worth noting though that a logo alone is not a visual identity. Naive people may see just see a logo and disregard it without understanding its surrounding branding elements that make up the full VI and how these elements are used together with the logo; typography, colour, graphic forms, patterns, layout… All important parts to consider when designing (and judging) a logo.
Although, this is about the Tokyo 1964 Olympic Games and the whole visual identity that came with it which essentially underpins most things on display in this exhibition and is a great insight into how graphic designers work to create something that is visible and works on the big billboards and airport graphics to the tiny badge on a suit jacket; and everything in between. It’s a look at, and into, the part that the public doesn’t get to see.
Starting with the logo, its unbelievable simplicity with an obvious rationale is what makes it stand out. Designed by Yūsaku Kamekura, it clearly represents Japan through the graphic derived from its flag. It goes beyond this though; yes it’s the flag and thus represents a national image of post-war Japan, but its simplicity and minimalism (at the time in the 1960s) is Modernist in its approach. Also for him, it signified the passion and excitement of the Games.
To this day it feels fresh and looks like something that could of come out now; showing it has proved the test of time. In the typical way that a lot of designers work, it’s mistakably simple as apparently he forgot about the competition deadline and dashed out his design in a couple of hours but when asked, he explained how he had been thinking about his design idea for some time.
“I drew a large red circle on top of the Olympic logo. People may have considered that this large red circle represented the Hinomaru [Flag of Japan], but my actual intention was to express the sun. I wanted to create a fresh and vivid image through a balance between the large red circle and the five-ring Olympic mark. I thought that it would make the hinomaru look like a modern design.”
Obviously, the red circle atop the Olympic rings is very beautiful in its simplicity but the typography beneath is just as important; without that, it’s just a bunch of circles and it almost means nothing. Tokyo 1964 is spelt out in full caps in the bold, condensed font of Haettenschweiler/Schmalfette Grotesk designed by Walter Haettenschweiler in 1954. Yusaku would have found this font and traced it from the book Lettera by Haettenschweiler and Armin Haab.
The choice of a condensed font only adds to the Modernist approach and enduring appeal of the logo as a whole. On a technical basis being so condensed allows the words to be tall, big and bold without being so big as to detract from the red circle above; a more standard width font would throw this off completely and create an unbalance.
Typography is prevalent throughout the whole visual identity of the Games; being on numerous touchpoints for customers and viewers; explaining what, when and where. Neue Haas Grotesk was chosen as the supporting typeface/font (most people will know it as Helvetica). Despite being so ubiquitous now, back in 1964 it was relatively new having only been released in 1957.
The Tokyo Games were one of the first significant uses of Helvetica, putting the typeface on the international stage. It was the perfect showcase of ideas being developed in Europe and the USA in graphic design; to use a consistent typeface to create a coherent visual identity system rather than a collection of typefaces or fonts. Helvetica’s clean and modern design lent itself to the Modernist approach of the Games visually and helped cement the Games as a ‘designed event’. Helvetica as a font has since become a ‘design classic’ loved and loathed.
This stylish and simple use of Helvetica is visible across the majority of printed material for the Games. It’s used on brochures, information booklets, meal coupons but most prevalently on event tickets. A huge job in itself to design for each and every event; it’s a striking image to see a collection of these together and it’s understandable why Japan House chose to use this specific piece of design on the exhibition promotional material.
Another thing also taken for granted now at the Olympics is the use of pictograms which are “a graphic symbol that conveys its meaning through its pictorial resemblance to a physical object”. Although earlier Games had used pictures to identify different sports, there had not been a coordinated set of sports pictograms. The inception of the ideas for pictograms was developed out of necessity; being the first Games in Asia also meant the first country to host the Games who do not use a Latin style alphabet meaning there were language difficulties.
It was also not desired to have text-heavy signage in multiple languages as was the case for previous Games as it was messy and would not fit in with the overall Modernist image of the 1964 Games. Thus 20 pictograms were designed by Yamashita Yoshiro, each one representing a sport and showing a silhouetted figure engaging in that sport, as simply as possible for clarity, replicability at a small scale and to be understood immediately requiring no written explanation.
As we are so familiar with pictograms now, it’s hard to understand just how revolutionary these were. The following Olympic Games have all featured this design system and (almost*) all can be traced back to Yamashita Yoshiro’s initial style. The commissioner of these pictograms considered them to be the greatest design achievement to come from the Games and recommended that they be used in modified form for all future Games.
Lance Wyman’s design for the 1986 Games pictograms (more like icons) were quite different but subsequent Games can clearly relate back to the 1964 pictograms. What is great to see is how designers have used the 1964 pictogram’s concept to create highly functional images but to tie directly into the Game’s visual identity style, and using additional cultural or historical references, to link everything together. The ability to isolate a single pictogram and still be able to know it’s from that year’s Games is an impressive design feat.
There is an obvious similarity between the 1964 pictograms and the most recent 2020 pictograms; this could be due to the similar simplicity of the 2020 visual identity but also to pay homage to Yamashita Yoshiro. An impressive theatrical piece took place during the 2020 opening ceremony which shone a light on this often overlooked and humble part of the Games.
As mentioned before, as well as the graphic visual identity, the architecture of sporting venues of the 1964 Games still exist today, long after the medal winners. Following WWII there was an abundance of opportunity to consider the rebuilding and redevelopment of Japan and in the 1950s and ’60s Japanese architects were transitioning from being followers to becoming leaders in international architecture. Taking existing ideals, Metabolism became a movement that built upon Le Corbusier’s Modernist principles but fused together architectural megastructures with those of biological growth.
“Metabolist architects and designers believed that cities and buildings are not static entities, but are ever-changing — organic with a “metabolism.” Postwar structures that accommodated population growth were thought to have a limited lifespan and should be designed and built to be replaced. Metabolically designed architecture is built around a spine-like infrastructure with prefabricated, replaceable cell-like parts — easily attached and readily removable when their lifespan is over.”
Jackie Craven on, What Is Metabolism in Architecture?
The Modernist and Metabolist architect, Kenzō Tange, was the first Japanese architect to achieve global influence through merging Japanese traditions with European Modernism thus establishing the foundations for the following generations of Japanese architects. Kenzō Tange was also responsible for one of the most striking 1964 Olympics venues: the Yoyogi National Gymnasium (originally known as the National Indoor Stadium) which is on display at the exhibition through scale models and photography.
The building is defined by its structure through the lack of interior columns to create a vast open interior achieved by an impressive roof design and using engineering principles similar to a suspension bridge through the use of steel cables and beams. From an aesthetic viewpoint, it’s clear to see the Japanese building heritage of temple tops combined with Modernist forms; the two dramatic sweeping curves appear to effortlessly drape from two large, central supporting cables. The perfect venue design for the intense drama and excitement of Olympic level sport.
“A swooping marvel of cantilevers and hanging roofs and hovering concrete. If it were built now, it would still get it described as “futuristic”. It gave new form and energy to the concept of high-object Olympic architecture, and other cities would follow.”
Rowan Moore on the Yoyogi National Gymnasium
The venue was reused for the 2020 Olympic and Paralympic Games, as was the impressive and imposing Nippon Budokan, designed by Mamoru Yamada which also references traditional Japanese temple design, specifically the Yumedono at the Hōryū-ji Buddhist temple in Nara, the first UNESCO World-Heritage site in Japan.
Despite being modernised, the eight-sided temple-esque design was criticised for being “too traditional” for the modern city of Tokyo but not modern enough in its design to appease the Modernists. Interestingly, although not on display, Kyoto Tower which was also designed by Mamoru Yamada (originally planned for the 1964 Games in Tokyo) was criticised for its design of being “too modern” in the ancient city of Kyoto.
Bringing it back to the 2020 Olympic and Paralympic Games, the new National Stadium was designed by Kengo Kuma. As a child Kengo Kuma attended the 1964 Games and credit’s Tange Kenzo’s Yoyogi National Gymnasium as the trigger for his own architectural career: “Tange treated natural light like a magician…From that day, I wanted to be an architect.”
To conclude, the 1964 Tokyo Olympic Games visual identity is not the slickest, the most memorable, the most controversial, the most loved, or the most hated; those accolades probably belong to Lance Wyman’s (and his team’s) 1968 Games visual identity. But what Tokyo 1964 did was cement the idea of the Olympic Games being a “brandable” event; everything that followed was inspired by it. Did it take the Olympics coming to town to let Japan show how its done and put them on the world design stage?
Decide for yourself… Tokyo 1964: Designing Tomorrow is on display at Japan House until 7 November 2021 and is free to visit but advance booking is required.
Read more blog posts on craig-berry.co.uk or my Medium page.
