Author Profile
If there is anything the nonconformist hates worse than a conformist it's
another nonconformist who doesn't conform to the prevailing standards of
nonconformity.
Bill Vaughan
It feels like tracking the peace symbol was my destiny. I began photographing
the peace symbol at the antiwar rallies I attended in the late 1960s, at the
height of the Vietnam War. As a father of a young family then, living in southern
California, I wasn’t part of the hippie movement that was sweeping the state and
the country, but I did have strong feelings about war. I vividly remember my
World War II childhood in the rural San Fernando Valley – the air raid sirens,
the rationing, and the flags in the windows of families with a service member
overseas. Fear was a vivid fixture of my childhood, even after the war ended.
With the 1950s came a different kind of war, the Cold War, and with it the
threat of nuclear annihilation. The air-raid drills went on, and a new, larger
terror replaced fears of the World War II era.
By the mid 1960s, Jannice and I had our first child and the country was involved in a new
conflict. But the Vietnam War did not rouse the patriotic fervor of World War
II. At about that time, I became friends with my neighbor, Ted Schoenman. Ted's
son Ralph had been Bertrand Russell's private secretary and eventually became
director of the Bertrand Russell Peace Foundation. Ralph had also been
instrumental in organizing the Committee of 100 Against Nuclear War – a
strident ban-the-bomb group in London in the early 1960s.
Though I didn't know
it at the time, all of this connected back to my interest in the creation of
the peace symbol. Ralph’s information filtered down to his father, who in turn
opened my eyes to a broader political worldview, beyond what I had previously
learned from my local paper and national television. Soon I had developed a
passion for politics and concern about the war. With the 1968 presidential
election around the corner, I slapped a Eugene McCarthy bumper sticker on our
VW Squareback, paid 25 cents for my first peace symbol button, and let my hair
grow a little longer.
Like a lot of other young Americans, I took to the streets to protest the
growing involvement in Vietnam. At each one of the demonstrations I attended,
the rallying symbol was that circle with what looked like a drooping tree
inside it. The peace symbol. Everywhere I looked – on posters, medallions,
earrings, cars, graffiti. That simple circle design had become a magnet, an
icon for the counterculture and the anti-war movements.
What has surprised me in the decades since is that the peace symbol
continues to exert almost hypnotic appeal. It’s become a rallying cry for
almost any group working for social change.
With my background in design, I'm fascinated by the simplicity of the peace
symbol and how people have used it, worn it, adapted it. Each iteration of
the symbol seems unique, because it bears the artistic touch of the person
replicating it. The fact that the symbol is easy to recall and draw – just
a circle with three lines in it – might account for some of its worldwide
recognition and proliferation, but I think it's more than that.
I was fortunate enough to correspond with Gerald Holtom, the symbol's designer,
ten years before his death in 1985. He critiqued my original notes on the
history of the symbol, which have now culminated in this book. I continue to
correspond with some of his children and a nephew. They have all been generous
in sharing family photos, diaries, letters and notes, and memories. His life
story and the symbol’s are in many ways inextricably linked.
Certainly, my own life has become intertwined with the symbol and with the
pressing need to tell its story, a story I have been documenting through my
own photographs, press clippings, and primary sources for decades now. On the
50th anniversary of the peace symbol, I can only hope that it will continue to
inspire, and inform generations to come.
- Ken Kolsbun
The stamps I am holding (with my right hand) were used in Denmark and Germany
in the mid 1960s. To the dismay of some people who objected to the
commercialization of the peace symbol, the United States Postal Service put
its stamp of approval on the peace symbol in 1999 and offered it as a 33-cent
stamp. The public selected the symbol during a nationwide balloting a year
earlier as one of the 15 commemorative stamps saluting the 1960’s. M2
Communications reported, "On August 3, 1999, the new Peace Symbol
commemorative postal stamp was unveiled by the United States Postal Service
at the Whisky A-Go-Go, a Hollywood night club of choice for celebrities and
hippies of that era." Singer Nancy Sinatra joined in the celebration."