The trouble was, these spaceship structures stood out like a sore thumb in the rural wilderness for which they were built.

Outer Banks Futuro House FRISCO, NORTH CAROLINAįuturo House in Frisco, North Carolina. (There are some great photos of the early prefabs here and here.) The ellipsoid is comprised of 16 individual parts that are bolted together, or sometimes were airlifted in place fully assembled by helicopter-a sight that would surely have helped reinforce the UFO connotation. It includes a hatch entrance in place of a door, which opens into a common space that featured six plastic lounge chairs encircling a fireplace, plus a small kitchen, bathroom and bedroom. The portable structure was originally conceived as a ski cabin (at least one Futuro is still operating as such), but the experimental design was soon hyped as the home of the future. Ironically, that may be what ultimately led to the Futuro’s failure.Ī woman reclines in the living room of a modern portable house called ‘Futuro’, 1969. Spaceship architecture was in vogue, but nothing hit the nail on the head quite like these UFO houses.

The Futuro was a product of its times: when Finnish architect Matti Suuronen designed the little alien-looking abodes in 1968, the postwar economic boom was in full swing, time-saving home gadgets promised a leisure-filled vision of the future, and society was transfixed by the Space Race. After enjoying a heyday in the late ’60s and early ’70s, the remaining Futuros are now scattered across all parts of the globe, from the Australian beaches to the mountains of Russia, like secluded relics of midcentury technoutopianism. Shaped like the Hollywood idea of a flying saucer, the Futuro is a plastic, prefabricated, portable vacation home built to easily adapt to any climate or terrain, from mountain slopes to the seaside. The Futuro House, in all its space age retro splendor, is like a physical manifestation of 1960s optimism. Futuro at the WeeGee Exhibition Centre in Espoo, Finland.

Area 55 futuro house