But is Disneyland art? Certainly, of late, there has been an increasing desire to see it as such. For all the cultural prominence of Disneyland, and despite the 18.6m visitors it draws each year, the park has not traditionally been discussed in those terms. Neither have its sister parks in Florida, Tokyo, Hong Kong, Paris or Shanghai (all of which are also-rans according to Disneyland purists, who argue that Disneyland is the only park Walt Disney made himself and therefore the only one that truly matters).
However, that is changing. Last month, a new documentary series, Behind The Attraction, debuted on Disney+, highlighting for the first time the technological and artistic ingenuity that goes into the theme park’s most famous rides. It follows a fascinating in-depth history of the park, The Imagineering Story, that premiered on Disney+ in 2019. “For the first time, Disney is trying to tell its own story and acknowledge the ingredients that make up the magic,” says Mark Brickey, an artist and presenter whose podcast Disneyland for Designers unravels the design secrets that make the place tick. His show is proof that it’s not just the Mouse House themselves leading the charge in the fight for recognition of its artistry. Online, a groundswell of podcasts, websites, YouTube channels and Instagram accounts have emerged breaking down the park’s inner-workings, and pushing for it to be reconsidered within our culture. For decades, Disneyland has been synonymous with frivolous fun and popcorn-fuelled entertainment. Now, fans are wishing upon a star for Disneyland to be seen as more than that.
Moving that needle isn’t easy. In 2015 Martens wrote an article for the Los Angeles Times, titled Single Rider: Going Solo at Disney. It detailed some of the stigma he receives as a man in his 30s who adores Disneyland: the “prospective girlfriend [who] said it was creepy”, the confused looks at dinner parties. The piece concluded with a lie. “Do you stay here for business?” a waitress asks him one night, as he dines in a Disneyland steakhouse alone. He tells them he’s “here with my sister and her husband, but they have kids and they already called it a night”, Moments later, he’s flooded with regret as he realises what he should have said: that he goes to Disneyland alone “because I want to believe pirates and personal spaceships coexist, and I want to believe that it’s still possible to solve every problem with a kiss. Disneyland puts me under that spell”.
The case for it as art
His experience speaks to a larger phenomenon – of the parks becoming ever more an obsession for adults as they are for children. For many aficionados, including Carlye Wisel, the creator of Very Amusing, a podcast focused on theme parks and the culture around them, the intrigue of Disneyland lies in its detail. “Disneyland is meticulously architected so that every single design choice reinforces the story surrounding it”. Inspect the pastel paints on the buildings or floor tiles beneath your feet in New Orleans Square and you’ll spot they’re different to the ones in Adventureland, she says. Ditto its bathroom doors and the plant life around its walkways. Even the bins in Disneyland have different aesthetic identities depending on where you are, to carefully match the mood of the land you’re being immersed in. “It really is unbelievable when you break it down, the lengths that they go to.” That so few people notice these lengths is all part of the park’s romance: every design touch is in service of building and preserving a fantasy that, if obtrusive, would crumble the illusion. Disneyland is full of design that doesn’t draw attention to itself, instead quietly contributing to a feeling.