This eBook was produced by David Schwan.



The Art of the Exposition

Personal Impressions of the Architecture, Sculpture, Mural Decorations,
Color Scheme & Other Aesthetic Aspects of the Panama-Pacific
International Exposition



By
Eugen Neuhaus
University of California
Chairman of the Western Advisory Committee and Member of the San
Francisco Jury in the Department of Fine Arts of the Exposition



To the Panama-Pacific International Exposition. A Great Work of Peace.
These lines are appreciatively dedicated May the First 1915



Publisher's Announcement

The following pages have grown out of many talks given during the year
by Mr. Neuhaus to his students at the University of California.
Presented to the public in the form of a series of evening lectures at
the University, and repeated before many other organizations throughout
California, his interpretation of the Art of the Exposition roused a
demand for its repetition so widespread as only to be met by the aid of
the printing press.

San Francisco, California May 1, 1915



Contents



The Architecture
The architectural scheme, the setting and the style of the architecture.

The Sculpture
Its relation to the architecture, its artistic meaning and its
symbolism.

The Color Scheme and the Landscape Gardening
The color elements as furnished by the artist and by nature; the
horticultural effects.

The Mural Decorations
The intellectual emphasis of the color scheme, and the significance of
the mural decorations.

The Illumination - Conclusion
The Exposition at night.

Appendix
Guide to Sculpture, The Mural decorations, Biographical notes.



List of Illustrations



The Tower in the Court of Abundance. Louis Christian Mullgardt,
Architect. (Frontispiece)
Under the Arch of the Tower of Jewels. McKim, Mead and White, Architects
View Through the Great Arches of the Court of the Universe. McKim, Mead
      and White, Architects
Niche Detail from the Court of the Four Seasons. Henry Bacon, Architect
The Court of the Four Seasons. Henry Bacon, Architect
Northern Doorway in the Court of Palms. George Kelham, Architect
Entrance into the Palace of Education. Bliss and Faville, Architects
Detail from the Court of Abundance. Louis Christian Mullgardt, Architect
The Palace of Fine Arts. Bernard R. Maybeck, Architect
Colonnade, Palace of Fine Arts. Bernard R. Maybeck, Architect.
Portal of Vigor in the Palace of Food Products (in the distance). Bliss
      and Faville, Architects
Colonnade, Palace of Fine Arts. Bernard R. Maybeck, Architect
The Setting Sun. Adolph A. Weinman, Sculptor
The Nations of the West. A. Stirling Calder, Frederick C. R. Roth, Leo
      Lentelli, Sculptors
The Mermaid. Arthur Putnam, Sculptor
The Adventurous Bowman Supported by Frieze of Toilers
Details from the Column of Progress. Hermon A. MacNeil, Sculptor
The End of the Trail. James Earl Fraser, Sculptor
Autumn, in the Court of the Four Seasons. Furio Piccirilli, Sculptor
The Pacific-Detail from the Fountain of Energy. A. Stirling Calder,
      Sculptor
The Alaskan-Detail from Nations of the West. Frederick C. R. Roth,
      Sculptor
The Feast of Sacrifice. Albert Jaegers, Sculptor
Youth - From the Fountain of Youth. Edith Woodman Burroughs, Sculptor
Truth - Detail from the Fountain of the Rising Sun. Adolph A. Weinman,
      Sculptor
The Star. A. Stirling Calder, Sculptor
The Triton - Detail of the Fountains of the Rising and the Setting Sun.
      Adolph A. Weinman, Sculptor
Finial Figure in the Court of Abundance. Leo Lentelli, Sculptor
Atlantic and Pacific and the Gateway of all Nations. William de Leftwich
      Dodge, Painter
Commerce, Inspiration, Truth and Religion. Edward Simmons, Painter
The Victorious Spirit. Arthur F. Mathews, Painter
The Westward March of Civilization. Frank V. Du Mond, Painter
The Pursuit of Pleasure. Charles Holloway, Painter
Primitive Fire. Frank Brangwyn, Painter
Night Effect - Colonnade of the Palace of Fine Arts. Bernard R. Maybeck,
      Architect
Official Poster. Perham W. Nahl
Ground Plan of the Exposition



The Art of the Exposition



The Architecture



It is generally conceded that the essential lesson of the Exposition is
the lesson of art. However strongly the industrial element may have
asserted itself in the many interesting exhibits, no matter how
extensive the appeal of the applied sciences may be, the final and
lasting effect will be found in the great and enduring lesson of beauty
which the Exposition so unforgetably teaches.

The visitor is at once stirred by the many manifestations of art,
presented so harmoniously by the architect, the sculptor, the landscape
architect, and the painter-decorator, and his attention is kept
throughout by artistic appeals at every turn. It must be said in the
very start that few will realize what is the simple truth - that
artistically this is probably the most successful exposition ever
created. It may indeed prove the last. Large international expositions
are becoming a thing of the past on account of the tremendous cost for
relatively temporary purposes.

There is still much of the popular conception abroad that the West has
only very recently emerged from a state of semi-civilization inimical to
the finer things of life, and to art in particular. But we may rest
assured that the fortunate outsider who allows himself the luxury of
travel will proclaim that the gospel of beauty has been preached most
eloquently through the Panama-Pacific International Exposition.

The critic who prefers to condemn things will find small opportunity
here, no matter how seriously he may take himself.

The first sight of that great mosaic, from the Fillmore-street hill, at
once creates a nerve-soothing impression most uncommon in international
expositions, and for that matter, in any architectural aggregate. One is
at once struck with the fitness of the location and of the scheme of
architecture. Personally, I am greatly impressed with the architectural
scheme and the consistency of its application to the whole. I fear that
the two men, Mr. Willis Polk and Mr. Edward Bennett, who laid the
foundation for the plan, will never receive as much credit as is really
due them. I hope this appreciation may serve that purpose in some small
way.

It was a typically big western idea, an idea that as a rule never gets
any farther than being thought of, or possibly seeing daylight as an
"esquisse" - but seldom any farther than that. The Burnham plan for San
Francisco was such an unrealized dream, but here the dream has achieved
concrete form. The buildings as a group have all the big essential
qualities that art possesses only in its noblest expression. Symmetry,
balance, and harmony work together for a wonderful expression of unity,
of oneness, that buildings devoted to profane purposes seldom show.

I do not know how many people who visit the Exposition are so
constituted as to derive an aesthetic thrill from artistic balance, but
I imagine that any person, no matter how inexperienced in matters of
art, will rejoice at the fine feeling of orderly arrangement of major
forms which runs through the entire grouping. It is simplicity itself,
and it serves an excellent practical purpose, enabling one to visit the
Exposition without being left a nervous wreck at the end.

The main entrance leads one into the physical center of the Exposition.
From there, on the first visit, one realizes the existence of an equally
large area on either side, covered with objects of interest.

The main exposition, composed of a compactly arranged group of large
buildings of approximately equal size, is symmetrically placed on either
side of the main central court, the Court of the Universe. This sends
out its avenues into two equally proportioned side courts - the Court of
the Four Seasons on the west and the Court of Abundance on the east.
While the main court rests right in the center of the eight buildings,
the side courts fit snugly into the center of the four buildings on
either side. This arrangement of large masses, comprising the bulk of
the Exposition, creates a grateful feeling of repose and of order,
without being in the least uninteresting, for while there is perfect
symmetry, on the one hand, in the larger masses, there is plenty and
ever changing variety in the minor architectural forms and
embellishments. The same balance, the same interesting distribution of
architectural masses, continues on either side of the main building. In
Machinery Hall, on the one hand, and the Fine Arts Palace on the western
side, perfect balance is again maintained. That is, however, not the end
of it all. Loosening up in a very subtle way, we find cleverly arranged
the buildings of the various States of the Union and of Foreign Nations
on the western side of the Fine Arts Palace, while at the other
extremity of the main group, screened by Machinery Hall, is the
amusement section, officially labeled "The Zone."

I do not suspect that the Zone is intended to give any artistic thrills.
If so, I would propose to call it "The Limit," and so I drop it as a
subject for further artistic, reference. It is invaluable, however, as
an object lesson in showing the fatal results of the utter disregard of
all those fundamental laws of balance, harmony, and unity so uniformly
and persistently applied through the seriously designed main body of the
Exposition. There is no harmony whatever in the Zone anywhere, either in
the form, style, or color, unless it be the harmony of ugliness which is
carried through this riotous mêlée of flimsiness and sham. I cannot help
but feel that this hodgepodge will convince the most doubting Thomas who
might believe in the mob rule of hundreds of conflicting tastes. The
Zone is not an improvement on similar things in former Expositions. Save
for certain minor exceptions at the entrance, it will serve as a
wonderfully effective illustration of the taste of the great masses of
the people, and as a fine business investment.

So far, we have moved only along the east and west axis of the
Exposition. The north and south development is not without its charm.
The terraced city of San Francisco, on the south, without a doubt looks
best on a densely foggy day. With its fussy, incongruous buildings - I
hesitate to call them architecture - it serves hardly as a background
for anything, let alone a group of monumental buildings. The opposite
side, where nature reigns, atones for multitudes of sins that man
committed on the city's hills. But how great an opportunity there was
lost! There are, however, some indications at the western end of
Broadway that give fine promise for the future.

The bay and its background of rising hills and blue mountain sides
provide, the wonderful setting that so charmingly holds the Exposition.
The general arrangement of the Exposition pays its respects to the bay
at every possible angle. The vistas from the three courts towards the
bay are the pièces de résistance of the whole thing. It was a fine idea,
not alone from an economic point of view, to eliminate the two arches
which appeared in the original plan at the end of the avenues running
north from the Court of the Four Seasons and the Court of Abundance.
There is hardly anything more inspiring than to stand in any of the
three courts and to look north through those well proportioned
colonnades over the blue bay towards the purple foothills of Marin
County, crowned by the graceful slopes of Mount Tamalpais on one side
and the many islands of the bay on the other. It is surprising into how
many enchanting vistas the whole arrangement resolves itself. For the
city-planner the Exposition contains a wonderful lesson. What fine
cities we might have if some artistic control could be exercised over
the buildings which are to stand opposite the junction of one street
with another, not only at right angles, but also at lesser degrees - for
instance, in all cases of streets running into Market street from the
northwest.

To point out some particularly fine vistas, among many, we should
mention that from the Orchestral Niche in the Court of the Four Seasons,
looking toward the bay, or from the same court toward the Fine Arts
Palace - and many more. The natural background seems to have been
considered always, even in the arrangements of the smallest apertures.
One should not overlook the two open courts which run off the main
avenue, like charming coves in an island, into the main group of
buildings, connecting at their ends with the Court of the Four Seasons
at the west and the Court of Abundance toward the east. These two, the
Court of Palms and the Court of Flowers, have not so much the charm of
seclusion of the more centrally located courts, but their architecture
makes them of great interest.

As to the style of the architecture of the main group of eight
buildings, it has been called classic. If one means by that something
excellent, something in good taste, we must admit that it is classic
indeed. However, on closer examination it becomes very evident that the
individuality of many men has found expression in the architectural
structural forms, as well as in the minor and decorative forms.

The main Tower of Jewels, by Carrère and Hastings, marking the center of
the whole scheme, has a distinct character of its own. There is no doubt
that it is effective, but while its chief merit lies in its colossal
proportions and its relative position, I feel that it lacks that oneness
of conception that characterizes almost every other architectural unit
in the Exposition. One feels too much the stacking up of story after
story, that effort to fill the requirements of a given great height,
very much as a boy sets up blocks of diminishing size, one on top of the
other, until he can go no further because there are no smaller blocks.
The whole effect of the tower is too static. Of its architectural
motives, almost too many seem devoid of much interest, and like the
column motive, repeated too often. The very effective and decorative
employment of "jewels" tends to loosen up and enliven the structure very
much. On a sunny day the effect is dazzling and joyous. The tower has a
feeling of dignity and grandeur, commensurate with its scale and
setting. However, its great height is not apparent, owing largely to its
breadth of base. The Sather Campanile in Berkeley looks higher, though
it is actually one hundred and thirty-three feet lower. The side towers
at the entrances of the Court of Palms and the Court of Flowers, while
not so imaginative as the main tower, are far more sky-reaching. As
towers go, John Galen Howard's tower at the Buffalo Exposition in 1901
stands unsurpassed in every way as an Exposition tower.

The main Court of Honor, or Court of the Universe, as it is also called,
designed by McKim, Mead and White, impresses by its tremendous
dimensions, which operate somewhat against its proper enjoyment. I
believe that the court is too large - so many things are lost in it, and
it does not convey the quality of shelter that the two lesser courts
possess in such marked degree. The Court of the Universe will never be
the resting place of the masses of the people, in spite of the recently
added attraction of the band stand, a mixture of Roman and Arabic
architecture out of keeping with the surroundings. The conventional
architectural motives of this great court do not help very much in
tempting one to stay, and if it were not for the great arches on the
east and west and the very fine view toward the Column of Progress, I
would feel tempted to classify it as a piece of architectural design of
the stereotyped variety. It has all the great qualities and faults of
the court in front of St. Peter's in Rome. There is too little play of
landscape gardening in and near the Court of the Universe, a condition
which will remedy itself with the breaking into bloom of the great
masses of rhododendron which have been installed in the sunken garden in
the center.

Like all careful interpretations in the classic architectural
traditions, the Court of the Universe has a great feeling of dignity and
grandeur, which gives the visitor a feeling of the big scale of the rest
of the architecture. The court lacks, however, the individual note of
the two side courts.

Toward the west, passing through a very characteristic avenue, in the
style of the happiest phases of the Italian Renaissance to be found in
Florence, one enters the Court of the Four Seasons, by Henry Bacon of
New York. The chief quality of this court is that of intimacy. While by
no means so original as the Court of Abundance, it has a charm all of
its own, in spite of its conventional architectural characteristics,
which are really not different from those of the main Court of Honor.
However, a very happy combination of gardening effects and architecture,
together with the interesting wall-fountains, screened by stately rows
of columns, make for a picture of great loveliness. Of all the courts,
it has the most inviting feeling of seclusion. The plain body of water
in the center, without statuary of any kind, is most effective as a
mirror reflecting the play of lights and shadows, which are so important
an asset in this enchanting retreat. During the Exposition it will serve
as a recreation center for many people who will linger in the seclusion
of the groups of shrubbery and watch the shadows of the afternoon sun
creep slowly up the surrounding walls.

As an Exposition feature, the Court of the Four Seasons is a decided
innovation. At St. Louis, for instance, in 1904, everything seemed to
have been done to excite, to overstimulate, to develop a craving for
something new, to make one look for the next thing. Here, in the Court
of the Four Seasons, one wants to stay. Most emphatically one wants to
rest for awhile and give one's self over entirely to that feeling of
liberation that one experiences in a church, in the forest, or out on
the ocean. I could stay in this court forever. To wander into this Court
of the Four Seasons from any one of the many approaches is equally
satisfactory, and it will prove a very popular and successful Exposition
innovation.

Speaking of the courts, one is bound to yield to the individual note of
Louis Mullgardt's Court of Abundance, on the east of the Court of the
Universe. Of all the courts it has, without a doubt, the strongest
individual note. It seems on first acquaintance to be reminiscent of the
Gothic, of which it has, no doubt, the quality of lightness, the
laciness, and the play of many fine apertures and openings. It has,
however, neither the Gothic arch nor the buttresses of that period, and
so far as its ground plan goes, it is thoroughly original. It looks as
if carved out of a solid block of stone. This monolithic quality is
particularly well brought out in the tower on the north. While not quite
so intimate as the Court of the Four Seasons, it conveys, a feeling of
shelter and seclusion very well by showing an uninterrupted wall motive
on all sides. The sculpture symbolism of this court is particularly
fine. We shall return to it in a consideration of sculpture.

The two minor courts by George Kelham are particularly fortunate in
their open location toward the south. Their sheltered and warm
atmosphere is quite in keeping with the suggestion of Spanish
Renaissance which has been employed in the constructive and in the many
decorative motives. The western court, or Court of Palms, is made
particularly attractive by a sunken garden effect and pool. The effect
of the Court of Flowers is similar in every way to its mate on the east.

A consideration of these two courts, with their towers, leads easily
into a study of the outer façade, which, so to speak, ties all of the
eight Palaces together into a compact, snug arrangement, so typical of
the Exposition.

Bliss and Faville of San Francisco are responsible for the very skillful
use of simple, plain surfaces, accentuated and relieved here and there
by ornate doorways, wall-fountains, niches, and half-domes. On the
south, along the Avenue of Palms, are found some very fine adaptations
of old Spanish doorways, which deserve to be preserved. It is
regrettable that we have no large museum on the coast where these fine
doorways in the outer walls of the Palace of Varied Industries could be
preserved permanently. The travertine marble has nowhere been used more
effectively than in just such details. The entrance of the Palace of
Education at the western end of the south façade is also of great beauty
of design.

On the western end two huge niches or half domes command attention by
their noble beauty and fine setting amidst great clumps of eucalyptus.
On the north, no special effort has been made. There is, however, a
decorative emphasis of the doorways along the entire front. On the east,
facing the Palace of Machinery, some very fine doorways, very much like
some of the minor ones on the south, furnish the decoration. It was no
small task to bridge the many diversified architectural motives which
penetrate into the outer wall from within, in the shape of many avenues
and courts, and one can appreciate the difficulties of the designer who
met so well these conflicting requirements.

Of the detached palaces outside of the eight forming the rectangular
block nucleus, the Palace of Machinery attracts by its enormous size. I
am not interested in how many kegs of nails and iron bolts and washers
went into its anatomy. They add nothing to the artistic enjoyment of
this very massive building. One point, however, in connection with the
liberal use of the raw material is of artistic significance, and that is
that the internal structural aspects of this great palace, as well as of
the others, are not without charm and interest. It is only in recent
years, and particularly in America, that the engineer has dared to
invade the realm of the artist by attempting to make the constructive,
anatomical material, like uprights, bracings, trusses, and beams, assume
artistic responsibilities. It has been for many years the custom to
expect the engineer to do his share in obscurity with the idea that it
ultimately will be covered up by the work of the architect. The
extraordinary development of engineering in this country, to meet new
and original problems, sometimes of colossal proportions, particularly
in the field of concrete design, has resulted in some conditions
heretofore entirely unknown. I feel with much satisfaction that the
unobscured appearance of the wood construction in the Palace of
Machinery is very pleasing, owing to its sound constructive elements, as
well as to a very fine regard for pattern-making in the placing of the
bolts and braces. Here we discover the engineer in the role of the
artist, which he seems to enjoy, and which offers endless new
opportunities, particularly in the field of concrete construction, as
well as in wood. The great size of the Machinery Palace is much more
enjoyable from within, on account of the constructive patterns left in
the raw, than from without, where there is not enough animation in the
many plain surfaces of the outer walls. I do not know that it is
customary to put the engineer's name, together with that of the
architect, on a building; the time s approaching very rapidly when we
shall be in duty bound to do so.

Aside from the structural charm of the inside, the outer façade of
Machinery Hall is not entirely devoid of architectural interest. Its
general forms are apparently those of an early Christian church,
although its decorative motives are all indicative of the profane
purposes for which it is used.

Festival Hall, by Farquhar, of Los Angeles, at the east end of the south
gardens, does not look particularly festive, and it is not original
enough to shine by itself, like its very happy mate at the south end,
the Horticultural Palace. There is nothing like this Horticultural
Palace anywhere on the grounds in its gorgeous richness of decorative
adornment. It has no relation to any other building on the site. It is
very happy, with its many joyous garlands, flower-baskets, and
suggestions of horticultural forms - all very well done - so very much
better done than so many of the cheap period imitations so common to our
residence districts. It is so decidedly joyous in character that people
looking for Festival Hall wander over to the Horticultural Palace,
attracted by the very joyousness of its scheme.

Good rococo ornamentation is rare abroad and even rarer in this country,
which is essentially opposed in its tendencies and in its civilization
to those luxurious days of the French kings who created the conditions
under which this very delightful style could flourish.

The Horticultural Palace is a great success as an interpretation of a
style which rarely finds a sympathetic expression in this country. I do
not feel at all that it ought, but in a case of this kind where a
temporary purpose existed, it was happily chosen.

Of all isolated units, none causes greater admiration than the Fine Arts
Palace. It presents the astounding spectacle of a building which
violates the architectural conventions on more than one occasion, and in
spite of it, or possibly for that very reason, it has a note of
originality that is most conspicuous. Everybody admits that it is most
beautiful, and very few seem to know just how this was accomplished.
Many of the "small fry" of the architectural profession enjoy themselves
in picking out its faults, which are really, as suggested above, the
reason for its supreme beauty. Save for Mullgardt's court, it is the
only building that seems to be based on the realization of a dream of a
true artistic conception. With many other of the buildings one feels the
process of their creation in the time-honored, pedantic way. They are
paper-designed by the mechanical application of the "T" square and the
triangle. They do not show the advantage of having been experienced as a
vision.

With Bernard Maybeck's Palace of Fine Arts, one has the feeling that
this great temple is a realized dream; that it was imagined irrespective
of time, cost, or demand. Like all of Maybeck's buildings, it is
thoroughly original. Of course the setting contributes much to the
picturesque effect, but aside from that, the colonnades and the
octagonal dome in the center of the semicircular embracing form of the
main building present many interesting features There is a very fine
development of vistas, which are so provided as to present different
parts of the building in many ever-changing aspects. On entering the
outer colonnade one forgets the proximity of everyday things; one is
immediately in an atmosphere of religious devotion, which finds its
noblest expression in that delicate shrine of worship, by Ralph
Stackpole, beneath the dome. This spiritual quality puts the visitor
into the proper frame of mind for the enjoyment of the other offerings
of art within the building. Mr. Maybeck has demonstrated once again that
his talent is equal to any task in the field of architectural art. I
wish we had more of his rare kind and more people to do justice to his
genius.

Not far from the Palace of Fine Arts, on the shores of the bay, the
monumental tower of the California building fits well into the scheme of
things. Seen from a distance, from numerous points across the lagoon, it
offers a great many effective compositions in connection with some very
decorative groups of old acacia trees, the legacy of an old amusement
park of the bygone days of San Francisco - the old Harbor View Gardens.
In the shade of these old trees a fine old formal garden of exquisite
charm, screened from the eyes of the intruder by an old clipped Monterey
cypress hedge, really constitutes the unique note of this typically
Mission building. The architect, Mr. Burditt, deserves great credit for
an unusually respectful treatment of a very fine architectural asset.
This very enchanting old flower garden, with its sundial and cozy nooks,
has an intimate feeling throughout, and it furnishes the delightful
suggestive note of old age, of historical interest, without which it
would never have been convincing.

Aside from the outdoor features, the building, exclusive of the county
annex, discloses a very fine talent in a very happy combination of
classic tradition and modern tendencies. The building is altogether very
successful, in a style which is so much made use of but which is really
devoid of any distinct artistic merit. Most of the examples of the
so-called "Mission style" in California are very uninteresting in their
decorative motives, however big their ground plans may be in their
liberal use of space.

The Oregon building is just across the way from the California building,
and as an object of artistic analysis it is a most interesting single
unit. Personally, I am not enthusiastic over it. It was most decidedly a
very illogical idea to select a building to represent Oregon from a
country which has nothing whatever in common with this northern state.
One could hardly discover a more arid country, devoid of vegetation,
particularly of trees, than Greece; and to compare it with the
apparently inexhaustible wealth of virgin forests of Oregon makes the
contrast almost grotesque. Besides, a building like the Parthenon,
designed to grace and terminate the top of a hill, is surely not adapted
for a flat piece of ground like the Exposition field. And in the choice
of material used in its construction it shows a lack of appreciation for
the fitness of things generally. The Parthenon was designed to be made
in stone, as much for the construction as for the light color effect of
the marble. Only the light color play of its exterior would do against a
placid blue sky to relieve the otherwise exceedingly simple rigidity of
its massive forms of construction. To make an imitation of this great
building in uncouth, somber, almost black pine logs of dubious
proportions is hardly an artistically inspired accomplishment.

There must always be a certain regard for the use of the right material
in the right place. A wooden bridge will disclose its material even to
the uninitiated at a very great distance, because everybody knows that
certain things can be done only in wood. A stone, concrete, iron, or
cable bridge, for example, will each always look its part, out of sheer
material and structural necessity. A log house would have been far
better and more successful than this pseudo Parthenon. It is in the same
class with the statues of Liberty made from walnuts that are the great
attractions in our autumnal agricultural shows. The State of Oregon,
however, is well represented by a fine immense flagpole, which could
hardly have been cut anywhere else than on the Pacific Coast.

Of other state buildings in this neighborhood, a number are impressive
by their cost, like the New York building; others, again, by historical
suggestions of great charm. There are several which reflect in a very
interesting way the Colonial days of early American history; and
buildings like those of New Jersey and Virginia, in spite of their
unpretentiousness, are very successful. Nobody would take them for
anything else but what they represent.

The Pennsylvania building shows a very fine combination of the classic
and of the modern. It was originally designed to hold the Liberty Bell.
In order to avoid the necessity of building a fireproof building, the
open hail was adopted, with its inviting spaciousness, and two lower
enclosing wings at the side. The arrangement of the Pennsylvania
building is formal, owing to its symmetry, but not at all heavy. Its
decorative detail is full of interest, and to discover Hornbostel of New
York, the designer of the Oakland City Hall, as the author of this
building, is a pleasant surprise.

Of most of the other state buildings, really nothing original could be
claimed. They are, on the whole, dignified in their classic motives, and
in most cases, in better taste than the many foreign buildings.

Among these, the buildings representing Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Italy,
and Bolivia, must claim particular attention. It must seem strange that
the three northern countries named first should excel in originality of
architecture, as well as in the allied arts.

The Swedish building, designed by Ferdinand Boberg, presents admirably
his great talent. The name "Boberg" means nothing to most people out
here, but anybody at all familiar with the development of modern
architecture abroad will always think of Boberg as the greatest living
master of Swedish architecture. His very talented wife, Anna Boberg, is
equally well represented in another department, that of the Fine Arts.

The plan of the Swedish building is unsymmetrical, but well balanced,
nevertheless. The typical northern wood tower, at one side, has a very
fine outline, and like the roof, has a very fine decorative shingle
covering, interesting in pattern as well as in color. I am very much
tempted to speak of the treasures found inside of this building, but we
must go on to Denmark's building.

This building, situated near the southern end of the Fine Arts
Colonnade, has a far more advantageous location than the Swedish
building. Situated on a narrow tongue of triangular shape, the architect
has taken the fullest advantage of this original piece of ground. The
building gives a very good idea of some of the very best tendencies in
the modern art of Europe, without being bizarre, like some recent
American attempts, in the most wrongly labeled of all art expressions -
the "Art Nouveau."

The Norwegian building, somewhat remotely situated, back of the French
building and near the Presidio entrance, has very much in common with
the Swedish building, and offers the same attractive features of wood
and stone construction as the building representing its sister state.
Historical traditions and everything else are so much alike in these two
countries that it must not surprise one to find the two buildings have
so many points of interest in common.

The north of Europe has given to the world many very excellent and
genuine expressions of architecture, which, owing to their fine
constructive qualities, have been absorbed wherever wood is the
principal building material. The art contributions of Sweden, Norway,
and Denmark will long remain in the memory of all Exposition visitors.

Holland makes considerable pretensions as to originality of style in a
curiously incongruous creation at the north of the Fine Arts Palace.
During the last twenty years a peculiarly inadaptable type of building
has been developed in Holland by a group of younger architects. Many of
these buildings are suggestive of stone rather than of brick
construction, and they do not fit in very well into the architectural
traditions of the Dutch - builders traditionally of the finest brick
structures in the world.

The Holland building at the Exposition is not typical of that great and
independent people. It looks cheap and has all the faults of the Art
Nouveau, which has, unfortunately, been much discredited, by just such
things in our own country, where classical traditions are so firmly and
so persistently entrenched.

While structurally this building is of a peculiar, affected,
ultra-modern note, the general scheme of decoration inside as well as
outside compels much praise. The general feeling of refinement, of
serenity, that so strongly characterizes the interior is due to the able
work of Hermann Rosse, a capable decorator-painter, who designed and
supervised the entire color scheme.

The color scheme inside the Holland building, while daring, is most
original in using an unusual combination of steel-blue and warm grey
silver tones. These two relatively cold notes are enhanced in a
complementary color sense by touches of orange and yellow. A
constructive stencil pattern based on the two national plants of
Holland, the orange tree and the tulip, add richness to the general
effect. Mr. Rosse's very decorative wall painting opposite the main
entrance represents the Industries of Peace. While somewhat severe, it
adds dignity in motive as well as in treatment.

On the outside some fine decorative tile panels reflect one of the chief
industries of the Dutch and also tell of the influence that Dutch art
has long received from Holland's East Indian possessions. These tile
panels are very decorative. To us, out here, they suggest artistic
ceramic possibilities for architectural purposes of which we have taken
little advantage. Considering the fact that we have quantities of good
clay and that so much original good decorative design is lying idle,
this inactivity in architectural ceramics in California is distressing.
So far as I know, Batchelder, in Pasadena, still has the monopoly on
architectural tiles for the entire Pacific coast.

Other European countries besides Holland are interestingly represented.
The Italian building is a dignified building of pure Florentine
Renaissance lines, with here and there a modern note.

This should rather be called a group of buildings, since it is a
combination of some of the finest bits of Italian Renaissance
architecture. The architects of this building succeeded admirably in
giving a feeling of antiquity to the general treatment of the whole
arrangement, which, under the blue sky of California, brings one
straight back into the land of sunshine and artistic tradition. The
whole arrangement of this Italian group seems somewhat bewildering at
first, but on closer inspection resolves itself into a very interesting
scheme which takes full advantage of the irregularly shaped site.

There is a most impressive noble dignity in the hall of the main
building, where mural decorations of figural character add much to the
sumptuousness of the general effect. It is remarkable how in this age of
low ceilings a return to great height for rooms, as in these, Italian
chambers, produces a marked note of originality. The light effect
created in this way, in all of these replicas of the mansions of the
wealthy of the Renaissance period, is most helpful in the display of a
multitude of lovely objects - furniture, jewelry, ceramics, tapestries,
and yet more. The sculptural imitations of so many old pieces of
statuary are not in very good taste. They bear too much the traces of
the pneumatic drill, and most of them are cold and devoid of the spirit
of the original. Some of the very modern marbles in the various rooms
are almost pathetic in their disregard for the standards established by
the forefathers of their creators.

France, unfortunately, does not rise above the commonplace, in an
extensive building hastily constructed. And Portugal is shining in all
the glory of wedding-cake ornamentation that the plaster of Paris artist
could produce.

South America appears in a very typical building representing Bolivia.
It is evident that it was not a costly building, but its dignified
Spanish façade and the court effect inside are far more agreeable than
the pretentious palace erected by the Argentine Republic.

The Orient, with the oldest art traditions in the world, can justly be
expected to outdo the rest of the world. We find Japan again, as on
previous occasions, excelling in its typical arrangement of a number of
small pavilions in an irregular garden. The entire Japanese display,
architectural and all, is so perfect a unit that one cannot speak of the
buildings alone without thinking of the gardens. The Japanese sense of
detail and love of the picturesque are disclosed at every turn. We still
have with us in San Francisco, as a memento of the Midwinter Fair of
1894, the Japanese Garden in Golden Gate Park, and while this new
creation at the Exposition is not so extensive, it is none the less
charming.

In contrast to the Japanese wonderland near the Inside Inn, the new
Republic of China seems to be very unhappily represented, not very far
away. The whole Chinese ensemble seems a riot of terrible colors, devoid
of all the mellow qualities of Oriental art. If China's art was retired
with the Manchu dynasty, then I hope the new Republic will soon die a
natural death.



The Sculpture



The sculptural decorations of the Exposition are so much a part of the
architectural scheme that their consideration must no longer be delayed.
The employment of sculpture has been most judicious and has never lost
sight of certain architectural requirements, so frequently overlooked.
While there are a great many examples of sculptural decorations at the
Exposition, there does not seem to be that over-abundance of
ornamentation so often confused by the public with artistic effect.

The best compliment that can be paid to the Exposition sculpture is that
it is not evident at first and that one becomes aware of it only in the
course of studying the architecture. I do not think that, with the
exception of the Column of Progress and the groups of the Nations of the
East and of the West, the Exposition has produced, through its very
unusual and novel opportunities, any great work, or presented any new
talent heretofore not recognized; but it will most certainly stand a
critical examination and comparison with other Exposition sculpture and
not suffer thereby. As a matter of fact, a number of the sculptors of
our Exposition were commissioned to do similar work at St. Louis.

In one respect our Exposition must immediately claim originality - that
is, in the elimination of the glaring white, with its many ugly and
distracting reflected lights, insisted upon for years, in practically
all the great expositions of the past. This absence of white is surely a
very novel and very helpful feature, from an artistic point of view. The
Travertine staff material used, the highly successful work of Mr. Paul
Denneville, with its innumerable fine accidental effects, so reminiscent
of the tone and the weather-beaten qualities of really old surfaces, is
an asset that the sculptors among all the collaborating artists
gratefully acknowledge.

The artistic value of the Travertine lies in its beautiful expression of
architecture as well as of sculpture. A plain wall becomes a matter of
interest and comfort. An ornamental feature or sculpture obtains a
wonderful charm and delicacy in this material which is particularly
unique in sculpture. The natural Travertine is a sedimentary deposit
dating back, it is claimed, to the glacial ages. That imitated here
forms the bed of the River Tiber near Rome and was extensively used for
ages in the early Roman and Greek era as a building stone for their
temples and works of art. While a poor material in cold climates,
because of its striation, it was always sought in Italy for its
wonderful texture and tone. It was used in the Coliseum and in many
other buildings erected during the Roman period.

It is evident that there has been a very happy and close co-operation
between the architect and the sculptor - a desirable condition that,
unfortunately, does not always exist. Architects will sometimes not
allow the sculptor to give full expression to his ideas, will put
unwarranted restrictions upon him, and the result is very one-sided.

I had the pleasure of seeing much of the sculpture grow from the sketch
to the finished full-scale work, and the kindliness and the vigorous
personality of Mr. Stirling Calder added much charm and interest to this
experience. Mr. Calder has been the director of the department of
sculpture and the inspiration of his own work penetrates that of all his
fellow-artists. Among them are many specialists, such as Frederick Roth,
for instance, as a modeler of animals, who shows in the very fine figure
of "The Alaskan" in the Nations of the West that he is not afraid nor
unable to model human figures. Practically all of the animals in the
grounds show the hand of Roth.

Like Roth, Leo Lentelli did a good share of the task. His work is
characterized by much animation and spirit, but well balanced wherever
necessary, by a feeling of wise restraint. I remember with much horror
some of the sculptural atrocities of former expositions that seemed to
jump off pedestals they were intended to inhabit for a much longer
period than they were apparently willing. Repose and restraint, as a
rule, are lacking in much of our older American sculpture, as some of
our Market-street statuary testifies. It seems that our unsettled
conditions find an echo in our art. It is much to be hoped that a
certain craving for temporary excitement will be replaced by a wholesome
appreciation of those more enduring qualities of repose and balance.

Calder's work, no matter how animated, no matter how full of action, is
always reposeful. His "Fountain of Energy" gives a good idea of what I
mean. It is the first piece of detached sculpture that greets the
Exposition visitor. Its position at the main gate, in the South Gardens,
in front of the Tower of Jewels, is the most prominent place the
Exposition offers. It is worthy of its maker's talent. Its main quality
is a very fine, stimulating expression of joyousness that puts the
visitor at once in a festive mood. The Fountain of Energy is a symbol of
the vigor and daring of our mighty nation, which carried to a successful
ending a gigantic task abandoned by another great republic. The whole
composition is enjoyable for its many fine pieces of detail. Beginning
at the base, one observes the huge bulks of fanciful sea-beasts,
carrying on their backs figures representing the four principal oceans
of the world: the North and South Arctic, the Atlantic, and the Pacific.
Some are carrying shells and their attitudes express in unique fashion a
spirit of life and energy which makes the whole fountain look dynamic,
in contrast with the static Tower of Jewels. Everything else in this
fountain has the dynamic quality, from its other inhabitants of the
lower bowls, those very jolly sea-nymphs, mermaids, or whatever one may
want to call them. They are even more fantastically, shaped than the
larger figures. In their bizarre motives some of the marine mounts look
like a cross between a submarine and a rockcod.

Rising from the very center of the fountain basin, a huge sphere,
supported by a writhing mass of aquatic beasts, continues the scheme
upwards, culminating in the youth on horseback as the dominating figure
of the whole scheme. The sphere is charmingly decorated with reclining
figures of the two hemispheres and with a great number of minor
interesting motives of marine origin. The youth on horseback is not
exactly in harmony with the fountain; one feels that the aquatic feeling
running through the rest of the fountain is not equally continued in
this exceedingly well-modeled horse and youth and those two
smaller-scaled figures on his shoulders - I feel that the very clever
hand of a most talented artist has not been well supported by a logical
idea. Their decorative effect is very marked, taken mainly as a
silhouette from a distance. They are no doubt effective in carrying
upwards a vertical movement which is to some extent interfered with by
the outstretched arms of the youth. Mr. Calder has given us so very many
excellent things, alone and in collaboration with others throughout the
Exposition, that we must allow him this little bizarre note as an
eccentricity of an otherwise well-balanced genius.

As long as we are in the South Gardens, we might take the time to
investigate the two fountains on either side of the center, towards the
Horticultural Palace on the left and Festival Hall on the right. There
we find a very lithe mermaid, used alike on either side, from a model by
Arthur Putnam. Many of us who for years looked forward to the great
opportunity of the Exposition, which would give Arthur Putnam a worthy
field for his great genius, will be disappointed to know that the
mermaid is his only contribution, and scarcely representative of his
original way in dealing with animal forms. The untimely breakdown, some
two years ago, of his robust nature prevented his giving himself more
typically, for his real spirit is merely suggested in this graceful
mermaid.

Sherry Fry's figural compositions on the west of Festival Hall might
well be worthy of a little more attention than their somewhat remote
location brings them. The two reclining figures on the smaller domes are
reposeful and ornate. A stroll through the flower carpets of the South
Gardens, amidst the many balustrade lighting Hermae, discloses a wealth
of good architectural sculpture, which in its travertine execution is
doubly appealing.

There are four equestrian statues in different places on the north side
of the Avenue of Palms. Two are in front of the Tower of Jewels, the
"Cortez" by Charles Niehaus, and "Pizarro," by Charles Cary Rumsey. The
third is in front of the Court of Flowers, and the last at the entrance
to the Court of Palms. The two latter, Solon Borglum's "Pioneer," and
James Earl Fraser's "The End of the Trail," belong as much together as
the two relatively conventional Spanish conquerors guarding the entrance
to the Court of the Universe.

The symbolism of the "Pioneer" and "The End of the Trail" is, first of
all, a very fine expression of the destinies of two great races so
important in our historical development. The erect, energetic, powerful
man, head high, with a challenge in his face, looking out into early
morning, is very typical of the white man and the victorious march of
his civilization. His horse steps lightly, prancingly, and there is
admirable expression of physical vigor and hopeful expectation. The gun
and axe on his arm are suggestive of his preparedness for any task the
day and the future may bring.

Contrast this picture of life with the overwhelming expression of
physical fatigue, almost exhaustion, that Fraser gives to his Indian in
"The End of the Trail." It is embodied in rider and horse. Man and
beast seem both to have reached the end of their resources and both are
ready to give up the task they are not equal to meet.

The psychology of this great group is particularly fine. It is in things
like these that our American sculpture will yet find its highest
expression, rather than in the flamboyant type of technically skillful
work so abundantly represented everywhere. "The End of the Trail" could
have been placed more effectively in the midst of, or against, groups of
shrubbery in a more natural surrounding, where so close a physical
inspection as one is invited to in the present location would not be
possible.

The Tower of Jewels, however, with its lofty arch and suggestion of
hidden things behind it encourages the spirit of investigation. On
entering this great arch, one is suddenly attracted by the pleasing
sound of two fountains, sheltered in the secluded abutting walls of the
great tower. Minor arches, piercing the base of the tower west and east,
open up a view toward these sheltered niches, harboring on the right the
Fountain of Youth, by Mrs. Edith Woodman Burroughs, and the Fountain of
Eldorado at the left, by Mrs. Harry Payne Whitney. These two fountains
are totally different in character, and they could well afford to be so,
since they are not visible as a whole at the same time, although
physically not far apart.

Mrs. Burrough's fountain is very naïve in feeling, very charming in the
graceful modeling of the little girl. The decorative scheme of this
poetic unit is very simple and well-sustained throughout its
architectural parts.

Mrs. Harry Payne Whitney's fountain is of the intellectual, dramatic
kind. The treatment of this almost theatrical subject is well balanced.
While it does not possess any too much repose, it is very effective. In
general there are three parts to this fountain; the central doorway of
Eldorado, just ajar, disclosing faintly this land of happiness; while on
either side are two long panels showing great masses of humanity in all
manner of positions and attitudes, all striving toward the common goal.
Some are shown almost at the end of their journey, overtaken with
exhaustion; others more vigorous are lending a willing arm to the
support of their less successful brothers and sisters about to fall by
the wayside. The whole composition of those two friezes shows Mrs.
Whitney as a very skillful and imaginative artist. It is a gratifying
spectacle to see a woman such as Mrs. Whitney, so much heralded,
possibly against her own inclinations, in the society columns of New
York, find the time to devote herself to so serious and professional a
piece of work as the Fountain of Eldorado.

Passing through the Tower of Jewels into the Court of the Universe,
one's attention will be attracted to a number of pieces of detached
statuary. The most important among them is "The Four Elements," by
Robert Aitken. We all remember Aitken as the very promising young man
who left us before the fire to make a career in the East, after having
exhausted all local possibilities, the Bohemian Club included. His
figures of the Four Elements are typical of his temperament and he
acknowledges in them his indebtedness to Michael Angelo without being in
the least imitative. These four figures are allegorically full of
meaning, and taken simply as sculpture, they are excellently modeled.
His "Fire," showing a Greek warrior defending himself from the fiery
breath of a vicious reptile, is novel in its motive, while "Water"
discloses Father Neptune bellowing out into the briny air, accompanied
by dolphins in rhythmic motions. "Air," on the south, discloses Aitken
as the skillful modeler of less muscular forms of a winged female
figure, which in itself, without the birds, is suggestive of its
meaning. It was very daring to introduce the story of "Icarus" in this
group, by the small-scaled figure of this first mythological aviator on
the outside of the wings of the larger figure. It helps to add a note of
interest to an otherwise not so interesting part of the group.

The Fountains of the Rising and the Setting Sun are most impressive by
their architectonic quality, and Weinman's clear style of modeling is
seen at its best in the Tritons in the fountain bowl. The figure of the
Setting Sun is one of the finest figures of the entire Exposition. The
suggestion of the termination of day, indicated in the folding of the
wings and in the suggestion of physical fatigue, is very well conveyed.
A fine relaxation runs through the whole figure.

The Rising Sun, on the other side, has all the buoyancy of an energetic
youth ready for his daily task. With widespread wings, looking squarely
out into the world, he seems ready to soar into the firmament. The
contrast is admirable in these two figures, and Weinman deserves all the
popular applause bestowed upon his work.

Paul Manship has contributed two groups at the head of the east and west
steps leading to the sunken gardens, each group consisting of two
figures, one representing Festivity, the other, Art and Music. These
groups are used alike on either side. Manship deserves to be better
represented in the Exposition than by these two groups alone. His
position as one of the very successful of our younger men would have
warranted a more extensive employment of his very strong talent.

It is rather a flight from those Manship figures to the colossal groups
of the Nations of the East and of the West, but one is irresistibly
drawn to these wonderfully effective compositions. Their location makes
them the most prominent groups in the Exposition ensemble.

The harmonious co-operation of Calder, Roth, and Lentelli has resulted
in the creation of a modern substitute for the old Roman quadriga, which
so generally crowns triumphal arches. Both groups are so skillfully
composed as to have a similar silhouette against the blue sky, but
individually considered they are full, of a great variety of detail. It
was an accomplishment to balance the huge bulk of an elephant by a
prairie schooner on the opposite side of the court. Considering the
almost painful simplicity of the costumes and general detail of the
western nations as contrasted with the elaborately decorative
accessories, trappings, and tinsel of the Orient, it was no small task
to produce a feeling of balance between these two foreign motives. But
what it lacked in that regard was made up by allegorical figures, like
those on top of the prairie schooner, used not so much to express an
idea as to fill out the space occupied by the howdah on the other side.
There is a great deal of fine modeling in the individual figures on
horse and camel back and on foot.

In either one of the two groups much has been lost in the great height
of the arches. Figures like "The Alaskan," "The Trapper," and "The
Indian," for instance, are particularly fine and they would be very
effective by themselves. "The Mother of Tomorrow" in the Nations of the
West is a beautifully simple piece of sculpture.

The Nations of the East, like the West, in its entirety, is the
conception of A. Stirling Calder, who modeled the pedestrian figures.
With Mr. Calder, Messrs. Frederick G. R. Roth and Leo Lentelli
collaborated. The huge elephant in the center of the group was modeled
by Mr. Roth, also the camels. The mounted horsemen were modeled by Leo
Lentelli. From left to right the figures are - an Arab warrior, a Negro
servitor bearing baskets of fruit, a camel and rider (the Egyptian), a
falconer, an elephant with a howdah containing a figure embodying the
spirit of the East, attended by Oriental mystics representing India, a
Buddhist Lama bearing his emblem of authority, a camel and rider
(Mahometan), a Negro servitor, and a Mongolian warrior. The size of the
group, crowning a triumphal arch one hundred and sixty feet in height,
may be inferred from the fact that the figure of the Negro servitor is
thirteen feet six inches in height.

On the arch beneath this group are inscribed these lines by Kalidasa:
"The moon sinks yonder in the west, while in the east the glorious sun
behind the herald dawn appears. Thus rise and set in constant change
those shining orbs and regulate the very life of this our world."

The Nations of the West, crowning the arch of the Setting Sun, is also
the conception of A. Stirling Calder, who modeled the imaginative
figures of "the Mother of Tomorrow," "Enterprise," and "Hopes of the
Future."' Messrs. Leo Lentelli and Frederick G. R. Roth collaborated in
their happiest style, the former producing the four horsemen and one
pedestrian, the Squaw, and the latter the oxen, the wagon, and the three
pedestrians. From left to right the figures are, the French Trapper, the
Alaskan, the Latin-American, the German, the Hopes of the Future (a
white boy and a Negro, riding on a wagon), Enterprise, the Mother of
Tomorrow, the Italian, the Anglo-American, the Squaw, the American
Indian. The group is is conceived in the same large monumental style as
the Nations of the East. The types of those colonizing nations that at
one time or place or another have left their stamp on our country have
been selected to form the composition.

The following lines by Walt Whitman are inscribed on the arch beneath
the group of the Nations of the West: "Facing west from California's
shores, inquiring, tireless, seeking what is yet unfound, I a child,
very old, over waves towards the house of maternity, the land of
migrations, look afar: look off the shores of my western sea, the circle
almost circled."

It is popularly conceded that these two groups are magnificently daring
conceptions, richly worked out. They are probably the largest groups of
the kind ever made, the dimensions of the base being fifty-two by
thirty-eight feet, and the height forty-two feet.

Looking seaward from the Court of the Universe the Column of Progress
commands attention, crowned by the "Adventurous Bowman" and decorated at
the base with a frieze symbolizing achievement, or progress. The very
fine symbolism in this column deserves to be studied. The position of
the column itself is most artistic in its relation to the surroundings.
It is too bad, however, to see the view from the main court toward the
column spoiled by a music pavilion of dubious architectural merit. The
effect of the column as seen from any point is inspiring in its
monumental grandeur. The group on top, the Bowman, represents man's
supreme effort in life. He is supported on the left by his fellow-man,
adding strength and steadiness to his aim, while on the right the
crouching figure of a woman watches anxiously the sureness of his aim.
She holds ready in her hand the laurel wreath which she confidently
feels will be his just reward.

The great Column of Progress is the first column in the world, so far as
I know, whose design was inspired by a purely imaginative motive, and
the first sculpture column at any exposition. It must be considered the
most splendid expression of sculpture and architectural art in the
Exposition. Mr. Calder may justly feel proud of this great idea and Mr.
Hermon MacNeil has added new laurels to his many accomplishments in the
free modeling of the very daring group on top.

The column itself is decorated with the spiral ascending motive of the
Ship of Life, while at the base Isadore Konti expresses the striving for
achievement in four well modeled panels of huge scale, representing
human life in its progressive stages, showing men and women in attitudes
of hope and despair, of strength and weakness, in the never ending task
of trying to realize human destiny.

The Court of the Four Seasons harbors four groups by Piccirilli,
representing the seasons in the conventional way, dividing the year into
four distinct parts - spring, summer, autumn, and winter. These four
groups of Piccirilli are not equally successful. By far the most
effective is the one representing winter. The severe rigidity of the
lovely central standing figure expresses well that feeling of suspended
activity which we associate with the conventional conceptions of the
season of dormant life. The kneeling side figures are in full harmony of
expression with the central figure. They support very well the general
scheme.

The next best, to my mind, seems "Spring," on account of the very fine
psychological quality of the standing figure in giving expression in a
very graceful fashion to that invigorating and reviving quality of our
loveliest season. The two side figures seem to be gradually awakening to
the full development of their powers.

Next to "Spring," "Fall," by the fullness of the decorative scheme,
suggests Peace and Plenty in the preparation for the Harvest Festival
and in the touch of family life of the mother and child on the right.

Mr. Piccirilli's naturalistic modeling does not express itself so well
in "Summer." There is so little strictly architectural feeling in that
group. I think that Albert Jaegers, with his two single figures on top
of the two columns flanking the Orchestral Niche, actually represents
our own two seasons much more successfully than does Piccirilli.
Jaegers' "Rain and Sunshine" should be used to name the court properly -
"The Court of the Two Seasons," as we know them in California - the dry
season, the season of harvest; and the wet season, the one of
recuperation. I regret that here an opportunity was lost to add
distinction to the many different features of a great undertaking.

Jaegers has contributed also the figure of "Nature" on top of the music
niche and the capital bulls on the pylons toward the north of the court.
These terra cotta bulls are surely worthy of the adjective derived from
them. Their relative size is very good, and to see them in the richness
of their color against the upper regions of a dark blue sky is very
effective.

Directly north of the Court of the Four Seasons stands Miss Beatrice
Evelyn Longman's Fountain of Ceres, originally planned for the center of
the court, but so very effective all by itself between the dignified
colonnades of the avenue. The fountain is most impressive by its fine
architectural feeling, so uncommon in the work of many women sculptors.
The general feeling of it is refinement, combined with great strength.
It is fully deserving of monopolizing a fine setting of dignified
architecture, so richly emphasized by some of the finest old yew trees
in the grounds.

In the Court of Abundance a riot of interesting architectural sculptural
details invites the attention of the visitor. Beginning with the lower
animal forms, such as crabs and crayfish, etc., the entire evolution of
Nature has been symbolized, reaching its climax in the tower, where the
scheme is continued in several groups in Chester Beach's best style. The
lowest of these groups shows the Primitive Age, followed above by the
Middle Ages and Modernity. The great charm of this finest of all the
towers in the Exposition is its wonderful rhythmic feeling. The graceful
flow of line from the base toward the top is never interrupted, in spite
of the many sculptural adornments used on all sides. In front of the
tower are two very ornate illuminating shafts, showing Leo Lentelli's
diabolical cleverness in making ornament out of human figures. Leo
Lentelli's style is particularly well adapted to Mullgardt's Court of
Abundance. Its care-free, subtle quality, full of animation, presenting
new motives at every turn, is most helpful in the general spirit of
festivity which characterizes this most interesting of all the courts.

Aitken's Fountain of Life in the center of the court is totally
different. Full of intellectual suggestion, it is almost bewildering in
the storytelling quality of its many details. Aitken's fountain, which
is situated in the center of a basin a hundred and fifty feet long by
sixty-five feet wide, rises directly from the water. The main structure
consists of a series of four groups of heroic-sized figures, carved in
pierced relief, each flanked by colossal bronze Hermes, their arms
reaching around the structure and held together by animal forms of
reptilian or fishy origin. All these forms and figures surround a globe
of enormous size, typifying the Earth, over the surface of which streams
of water are thrown from the reptilian chain motive.

Leading up to the main structure is a group of ten crouching figures,
symbolizing Destiny in the shape of two enormous arms and hands, giving
life with one and taking it with the other. Here, on the left side, are
arranged figures suggesting the Dawn of Life, while on the right are men
and women depicting the fullness and the end of existence.

In the first, Prenatal Sleep, is the crouched form of a woman, while
successively come the Awakening, the Ecstatic Joy of Being - or it may
be the Realization of Living; the Kiss of Life, with the human pair
offering up their children, representative of the beginnings of
fecundity; a female, strong of limb and superb of physique, enfolds in
her arms two infants, while her mate, of no less powerful build and rude
force, kneeling beside her, gives her an embrace typical of the
overpowering parental instinct. Here is the suggestion of the elemental
feelings, the beginnings of things.

Between the first group and the central one comes a gap, a space typical
of that unknown time in history when conjecture alone permits
speculation, and the story is taken up again with the first of the
central groups, wherein stands a figure of Vanity, glass in hand,
symbolizing the compelling motive of so much in human endeavor. To her
left, in enormous contrast, are primitive man and woman, treated with
great realism, these two carrying their burdens of life, in the form of
their progeny, into the unknown future, their expression that of rude
but questioning courage, the man splendid in his virility, superb in the
attitude of his awkward strength, ready to meet whatever be the call of
earth. His mate meanwhile suggests the overwhelming and eternal
instincts of motherhood.

An archaic Hermes, dividing these figures from the next group, allows
for a space of time to elapse, and we come to their children, now grown
to manhood and womanhood, in their rude strength finding themselves,
with the result of Natural Selection. This is a group of five
personages, the center figure a man of splendid youth and vigor,
suggesting the high state both of physical and intellectual perfection,
unconsciously attracting the female, two of whom regard him with favor,
while two males on either side, deserted for this finer type, give vent
to deep regret, despair, and anger. One attempts by brute force to hold
the woman; the other reluctantly gives up his choice, in the obvious
futility of his unequal intellectual endowment to comprehend.

From this to the Survival of the Fittest we have a militant group, in
which physical strength begins to play its part, and perhaps discloses
the first awakening of the war spirit, the woman in this case being the
exciting cause. The powerful chieftains struggle for supremacy of their
time and tribe, their women making futile efforts to separate them. Here
the sense of conquest receives its first impression and is finely
indicated, with admirable action, while there is the symbolism of the
conflict of the nations that has ever gone on, for one cause or another,
and that struggle for the female which has ever been the actuating
motive in war, conquest, and, for that matter, peace.

The next group - always separated by the solemn and dignified Hermae -
discloses "The Lesson of Life," wherein the elders, with the experience
of the years, offer to hot-headed youth and to the lovelorn the benefit
of their own trials and struggles. A beautiful woman is the central
figure. She draws to her side splendid manhood, the Warrior, willing to
fight for his love and his faith. To his left his mother offers him her
affectionate advice, while to the right a father restrains a wayward
offspring who, rejected by the female, is in a state of frenzied
jealousy. Finally two figures represent Lust, a man struggling to caress
the unwilling woman who shrinks from his embraces, and we are led down
from this pair out of the composition to the crouching group at the
approach of the structure, referred to at the beginning of this
description, who here are departing from the central composition.

First is a figure of Greed looking back on the Earth. He holds in his
hands a mass suggestive of his futile and unsavory worldly possessions,
the unworthy bauble toward which his efforts have been directed. Back of
him we have the group of Faith, wherein kneels a Patriarch, who offers
consolation to a woman to whom he presents the hope of immortality,
holding in his hands a scarab, ancient symbol of renewed life. Next come
two recumbent figures, a man and a woman, the first, Sorrow, the other
typifying Final Slumber. These are about to be drawn into oblivion by
the relentless hand of Destiny.

In the center of a formal parapet at the end of the basin of water,
sixty feet from the fountain, is a colossal figure symbolic of the
setting sun, Helios, the great orb having thrown off the nebulous mass
that subsequently resolved itself into the earth.

In the immediate neighborhood of this Court of Abundance is found Sherry
Fry's figure of Neptune's Daughter, in the open court north of the
tower. The figure is not in keeping with the scheme of Mullgardt's
court, extending in this direction. The effect of this figure, no matter
how graceful it may be, is unquestionably too physical, in a certain
measure owing to the opportunity for close inspection.

On the south of the Court of Abundance, in the Court of Flowers, Edgar
Walter's fountain has been placed. "Beauty and the Beast" have been
combined in contrasting fashion, with much effect, by associating the
youthful charms of a graceful maid with the angular ugliness of a
dragon, who seems to feel honored by having been selected as the
resting-place of a creature from outside his realm. He seems to be
almost hypnotized into a state of abject lifelessness. The effect of
this juxtaposition of the round forms of the human body and the almost
geometrical angularity of the fabulous beast is very interesting and
adds a new note to the many other ideas presented. The architectural
scheme of the fountain is made doubly interesting by a rich use of
animal forms of humorous character.

The immediate vicinity of the Laguna remains still to be investigated in
regard to sculptural adornments. The dozen or so niches in the west
front of the main building present a repetition of two individual groups
by Charles Harley, of New York, of decidedly archaeological character
"The Triumph of the Field" and "Abundance." They are most serious pieces
of work, possibly too serious, and they are in great danger of remaining
caviar to the masses on account of the complexity of their symbolism and
the intellectual character of their motives. Their setting is most
attractive, amongst groups of trees and shrubs.

Maybeck's Palace of Fine Arts is so overwhelming in its architectural
effects that one seldom feels like doing justice to the fine sculptural
detail everywhere in this building. Ralph Stackpole's interesting Shrine
of Inspiration is the most charming bit of sculpture, more detached in
its effect than most of the other motives. Bruno Zimm's eight fine
friezes, showing the development and influences of the arts in a very
severe, almost archaic style of modeling, add a fine note to the dome,
and Ulric Ellerhusen's equally architectonic friezes are in good style
and are in thorough harmony with the classic quality of this great
palace.

It is, of course, not possible to name all of the many pieces of
architectural sculpture used at the Exposition. The general effect one
receives is that it represents the best that is possible in Exposition
sculpture today. It gives evidence of the increasing development of the
qualities of design, as contrasted with the so much looser work of
former expositions. Seldom before have sculptors anywhere, since
sculpture and architecture first worked hand in hand, so played their
most important roles together in the ensemble setting that constitutes
our Exposition visually. On arch or column, in niches, in fountains, and
in free-standing groups, they sing of many themes, and always in
harmony, but with no loss of character or individuality. There is no
doubt of it, that, for an Exposition, sculpture is the most important of
all the arts, because it is the most human. Without it, architecture
would be cold and without appeal. I foresee a great future for sculpture
in America, where our temperament demands it. The educational value of
sculpture at an exposition is incalculable. It is a school for the
sculptors, too, as well as for the public.



The Color Scheme & Landscape Gardening



Nothing excites the Exposition visitor more than the color scheme of the
buildings. But "excite" is really not the proper word, because there is
nothing exciting about it. Nothing was farther from Mr. Guérin's mind
than to create excitement, unrest, or any of those sensations that might
lead to fatigue or even to a nervous breakdown. We understand fully by
this time that it was Jules Guérin who is the responsible artist, and
who supervised the putting into existence of the first real "Guérin"
that ever was. Mr. Guérin has the distinction of being the first
director of color and of decoration ever appointed for an international
exposition.

It must become evident to any person who is at all familiar with the
fascinating tonal designs Guérin produces for many of our leading
magazines that what he did was nothing but to paint nature as he has
been used to represent it in his pictures. Guérin must have had a
glorious time with that first great opportunity, so seldom to happen, of
putting all those pet colors of his into the actual outdoors, there to
feast his eyes upon them. It was a daring and novel undertaking, most
successful in a large way. I hope we are going to benefit by this
successful experiment and begin to give life to our dreary cement
façades, mournful roofs, and lifeless window-sashes, ornamentations, and
what not. We are, I admit, hopelessly at the mercy of the housepainter,
who knows much about estimates, something about paint, and little about
color. I hope we are going to learn the difference between paint and
color, the purely physical, meaningless thing on the one hand, and the
intelligence-conveying, pleasure-giving element on the other.

Guérin certainly knows color, and I take it for granted that a man of
his training and experience knows how to use paint. His exposition
buildings look for all the world like a live Guérin print taken from the
Century Magazine and put down alongside of the bay which seems to have
responded, as have the other natural assets, for a blending of the
entire creation into one harmonious unit. I fancy such a thing was
possible only in California, where natural conditions invite such a
technical and artistic innovation.

The general effect is one of great warmth. The basic tone of the
travertine furnishes a very rich foundation for the other colors added.
The whole range of color is very simple and it is simplicity and
repetition over large areas that make the colors so effective. There are
three different greens, for instance - the patina green on many minor
domes, suggesting aged copper surfaces; a very strong primary green, on
the small doors of the palaces and most of the lattice work; and another
very pale, pinkish green, a sort of an abalone shell green, used on all
the flagpole bases, always topped off with a light pinkish red, used
above the light green base on all the flagpoles.

Then there are the reds, a number of different reds, running from a
pinkish brick color to a darker russet red, to be found exclusively in
all vertical panels serving as background for detailed statuary - for
instance, in all the courts. Next to the red there is a brilliant
orange, used in relatively small quantities here and there in the
mouldings, as around the Brangwyn paintings in the Court of Abundance.

This leaves yet to be named the few soothing blues that abound in the
ceilings, in the deep recesses of the walls, and the coffered arches,
serving as backgrounds for the many richly-modeled terra cotta rosettes.

This is practically the entire range of colors, but they assume, of
course, endless variations of tone and intensity, owing to the
difference of the surfaces and the play of light and shadow. The
relation of the whole color scheme to the colors furnished by nature is
by no means accidental. The effect of the ensemble, on a calm, sunny
day, is hard to describe in its gorgeous beauty.

The pressing into service of nature as applied to color was particularly
inviting, of course, on the bay side, where simple sweeps of skies,
foothills, and plain bodies of water furnish almost ideal conditions.
This is true in a similar way for the background in the west, but toward
the south - well, we had better forget such mournful outward aspects of
our great city of San Francisco, known around the world for its gay
temperament.

Appreciating the importance of detail, Guérin extended his color
treatment to practically everything presenting surface. Nothing could
escape his vigilant eyes. Even the sand covering of the asphalted roads
is of a peculiarly attractive blend. It seems like a mixture of ordinary
sand with a touch of cinnamon. Even that corps of stalwart guards had to
submit to a tonal harmony of drabs, with touches of yellow metal, warm
red puttees, and neat little yellow Spanish canes. They all seem very
proud and appreciative of their part in the concert of colors. And they
speak of it with feeling and reverence. Not long ago, during a rather
stormy, wet day, I happened to notice several of these cicerones hiding
in a doorway of one of the palaces, looking most disconsolate. The
reason for it became immediately apparent; the un-Californian weather
had forced them to put on civilian overcoats of indescribable hues, and
the shame of being out of color was plainly written in their faces. It
shows that art is largely a matter of education.

I fancy that all that a respectful and appreciative public could do, in
order to live up to the occasion, would be to have Exposition suits
built of pongee silk, or some other harmonious material. So far, on all
of my visits, I observed a shocking preponderance of black, which I hope
will eventually yield to the softer colors of lighter materials, with
the arrival of warmer weather.

The careful observer will find that the crimson vermilion red of the
fire alarm boxes had to yield to a more refined vivid orange, much, I
understand, to the consternation of the Exposition fire marshal, who
must have been shocked at this intrusion.

The horticultural effect of the grounds, flower beds, and shrubbery will
always adapt itself properly to the color scheme, and a preponderance of
warm yellows, reds, and orange will simultaneously fill out the garden
areas. At first yellow pansies and daffodils had control, to be replaced
in due season by the uniform appearance of tulips, hyacinths, and
successions of other flowers. This progressive appearance of new flower
carpets will provide ever-changing elements of interest throughout the
entire period of the Exposition.

It seems only right at this time to speak of the great and modestly
contributed services of John McLaren. He, with his wide experience and
unceasing energy, created the garden setting which ties all the
buildings into a natural harmony. Hardly ever have trees, shrubs, and
flowers been used in such profusion in an Exposition. Conventional in
aspect, all great expositions in the past have been lacking in the
invigorating elements, no matter how naturalistic the site may have
been. The few scraggly pines of St. Louis looked more like undesirable
left-overs  of a former forest than like a supporting feature of the
Exposition picture.

The stony look of many former expostions is not evident at San
Francisco. Considering the fact that the exposition is largely on made
ground, it is amazing what has been accomplished. With the exception of
the few scattering remains of an old amusement park - the Harbor View
Gardens - so charmingly utilized in the courtyard of the California
building, practically all the trees and shrubs had to be brought in from
the outside. How well Mr. McLaren succeeded in moving whole gardens "en
bloc" to the Exposition is shown by the fact that with the exception of
a few Monterey cypresses on one of the lagoon islands, not a single tree
has died. It was no small task to transplant eucalypti forty feet high,
and aged yew trees, and the tradition that it is impossible to
transplant old trees has again been demonstrated as in the same class
with other old sayings based on the experience of the past, but applying
no longer to our own conditions.

The stately rows of palms on the south avenue contain some specimens of
the Canary Island palms which must be nearly forty years old, and some
of the yews in the colonnade between the Court of the Four Seasons and
the Marina, near Miss Longman's Fountain of Ceres, are probably even
older. The massing of large groups of black acacia, Monterey pines, and
cypresses, filled in at the edge with veronica and many other flowering
shrubs, gives many interesting notes, and serves frequently as
backgrounds for statuary.

Like everything else, from the architecture down, the garden aspect of
the Exposition is not frugal nor skimpy, whatever floral effects are
used. Like shrubbery, trees occur in great profusion, and without regard
for difficulties in transplanting.

The Court of the Universe did not receive the generous treatment from
Mr. McLaren that it almost cries for. The few isolated Italian cypresses
in the Court, near the tower, no doubt help a good deal, but one is
tempted to ask why there are not more of them. Italian cypresses are
hard to transplant, particularly if their feet have become accustomed to
the peaceful conditions of Santa Clara Valley cemeteries, where most of
them, I understand, enjoyed an undisturbed existence until they were
used so very effectively in the Exposition. These successfully moved old
trees are by far the most useful trees in architectural schemes, as
anybody who knows the Villa Borghese in Rome must admit.

I would like to see a law passed that every person at a certain age must
plant six Italian cypresses. I humbly suggest this to our legislators,
who seem to be suffering from a lack of measures to be introduced and
passed for the benefit of the people.

The Italian cypress is our most picturesque tree, and for combination
with architecture, is unrivaled by any other tree. They grow rather
slowly, but do not take much space, on account of their vertical habit.
The making of the Court of Palms is due largely to the liberal use of
these elegant trees, with their somber stateliness.

The lover of outdoors will find no end to his pleasurable investigations
in the many fine, luxurious groupings of flowering shrubs. Heather,
which does so well with us, and blooms when only few flowers brighten
our gardens, has been profusely used in solid beds at the base of the
Kelham towers, around Festival Hall, and in many other places. The
dainty, glistening foliage, interspersed with red berries of another
acclimated alien from the Himalaya Mountains - the Cotoneaster - makes
fine borders around the pool in the Court of the Four Seasons, in the
Court of Palms, and in several of the colonnades.

Evergreen plants and shrubs are the dominant features of the two Italian
Avenues connecting the big court with the side courts. The rich and
luxuriant carpets of the many varieties of box, thuya, taxus, and dwarf
pine, in dark, somber greens and many lighter color variations, are
superb.

In the Court of Abundance great masses of orange trees furnish the
dominant note. They are most effective with their branches heavily laden
with fruit. They are not only a surprise to the outsider, but even to
the Californian, who wonders at the skill and experience which made this
feat possible.



Mural Decorations



In connection with the color, scheme, the mural decorations invite
attention at many places. The outdoor character of the Exposition has
given unusual locations to some of these decorations. There are in all
some thirty. Mr. Guérin, as the director of color, had full charge of
their production, and all of them were painted by men he trusted
personally as regards their ability to execute and to finish on time.
That his choice fell largely on Eastern men was only too natural.

Few people have a proper idea of the magnitude of the work involved in
painting a huge decoration, and Mr. Guérin can hardly be blamed for
his choice of the men of experience who finally did the work, although
not all of them justified the confidence placed in them. The work of
painting such huge decorations is necessarily a big undertaking,
involving many preliminary studies and much physical and mechanical
labor in the end. Many painter-decorators employ large numbers of
trained men, apprentices and independent artists, to assist in the
execution of their commissions, and very frequently the temptation of
yielding the pleasure of execution to other hands is the cause of the
lowering of standards.

Probably, none of the canvases by Mr. Robert Reid, in the dome of the
Fine Arts Palace, can be said to do justice to the remarkable decorative
talent of Mr. Reid. He is so well and prominently known as a painter of
many successful decorations, in the East, that it is to be regretted
that he was not in a happier mood when he came to the task of painting
his eight panels of irregular shape for the Exposition.

The very scattered style of painting so effective in many of his easel
paintings, which show all the fine qualities of a modern impressionistic
school, is not of great help in pictures intended to be viewed from a
great distance. His decorations present very little opportunity for the
eye to rest upon them, and they are altogether too involved, in their
turbulent compositions. Their color is not unattractive, no matter how
cold, and of sufficient interest to atone for the lack of dignified
design. The subjects of all of these are by no means unattractive, and a
description of them reads far better than the pictures look.

The birth of European art is symbolized in the first panel. There are
five dominant figures, grouped about an altar on which burns the sacred
fire. An earthly messenger leans from his chariot to receive in his
right hand from the guardian of the flame the torch of inspiration,
while with his left hand he holds back his rearing steeds. In front of
these a winged attendant checks for an instant their flight. The central
figure, the guardian of the altar, still holds the torch, and below her
are three satellites, one clasping a cruse of oil, another pouring oil
upon the altar, while she holds in her hand a flaming brand, ready to
renew the flame should it falter, a third zealously watching the fire as
it burns. Opposite these a figure holds a crystal gazing-globe, in which
the future has been revealed to her, but her head is turned to watch the
flight of the earthly messenger.

The birth of Oriental art is symbolized in the second panel. The forces
of the earth, wresting inspiration from the powers of the air, are
pictured by a contest between a joyous figure in ancient Chinese armor,
mounted upon a golden dragon, combating an eagle. A female figure under
a huge umbrella represents Japan, while on either side are two other
Oriental figures, in gorgeous attire, symbolic of the long periods of
Oriental art.

The third panel represents the Ideals in Art. There are seven figures,
the Greek ideal of beauty dominating all in a classic nude. Below this
Religion is portrayed, in a Madonna and Child. Heroism is shown in
Jeanne d'Arc, mounted on a war-horse and flinging abroad her victorious
pennant. A young girl represents youth and material beauty, while at her
side a flaunting peacock stands for absolute nature, without ideal or
inspiration. A mystic figure in the background holds the cruse of oil.
Over all of them floats a winged figure holding a laurel wreath for the
victorious living, while a shadowy figure in the foreground holds a palm
for the dead.

The fourth panel represents the inspirations of all Art, five figures
symbolizing Music, Painting, Architecture, Poetry, and Sculpture. Flying
above these are two winged figures, one holding a torch flaming with the
sacred oil that has been brought from the altar, the other drawing back
the veil of darkness, revealing the tangible, visible expression of Art
to mortal eyes.

The four single panels symbolize the four golds of California; the
poppies, the citrus fruits, the metallic gold, and the golden wheat. The
idea of the four golds is particularly novel and will some day yield far
more interesting results, and I hope the subject will not be allowed to
lie idle. It is a very fine idea, too good not to be used permanently in
some dignified building in California.

The Court of the Four Seasons offers a decorative scheme of eight panels
above the doorways in the colonnades and two large panels in the
orchestral niche on the south. All of these ten paintings were done by
Milton Bancroft, one of the younger of the Eastern decorator-painters,
who took his task seriously enough, without rising in any of his
decorations above the conventional, with the exception of the "Autumn"
and the two larger panels in the half dome.

All of the seven decorations belonging to the set of eight smaller ones
are rather academic in their monotony of symmetrical compositions, not
sufficiently relieved by variety of detail. These decorations have to
excess what Reid's decorations are lacking in, namely, repose. Their
coloring is quiet and in thorough harmony with the architecture.

Bancroft's two more importantly placed decorations are, fortunately, his
best efforts. "Art Crowned by Time" and "Man Receiving Instruction in
the Laws of Nature" are very effective in their stateliness and
thoroughly decorative quality. They show the artist's allegiance to the
great decorations of the Renaissance in many quaint ways of filling out
the background spaces by puttos holding tablets, simple bits of
architecture, and conventionalized trees. His figure of "Art" is unique
among his figures in the decorative pattern used on the mantle which
falls gracefully from her shoulders. All the other Bancroft decorations
are devoid of this use of surface patterns, which are so helpful and
interesting in decorative arrangement.

It is only a few steps from the Court of the Four Seasons into the Court
of Palms. In entering through the orchestral niche one passes directly
underneath the lunette which holds the very decorative canvas by Arthur
Mathews, the acknowledged leader in the art of California. It must be
said that it does not seem right, in the light of what has been
contributed by men from elsewhere, that Mathews' superb talent should
have been employed only in one panel. His "Victorious Spirit," a rich
and noble composition, has certain enduring qualities which are not to
be found in a single one of any of the others. Simply taken as a
decoration, his picture is most effective by its richness of color, and
without going into the question of its meaning, it is thoroughly
satisfactory as a decoration.

Childe Hassam's lunette, said to represent "Fruit and Flowers," is
almost anaemic alongside Mathews' fullness of expression. Nobody ever
suspected Childe Hassam of being a decorator, no matter how admittedly
important a place he holds in the field of easel painting. The
composition of his decorations is frugal in every sense, largely owing
to the small scale of his figures. In the physical center of the
composition nothing of interest happens, and the composition breaks
almost in two. The coloring is insipid, and altogether not in keeping,
in its extreme coldness, with the happy warmth of the travertine
surrounding it.

Directly opposite, Charles Holloway presents himself in a very happy
painting called "The Pursuit of Pleasure." A study of this picture can
result in nothing but complete satisfaction. It is well and
interestingly composed, lively in arrangement, in good scale, and not
lacking in a certain feeling of repose, so essential in a good
decoration, and, for that matter, in any work of art.

In the great arch of the Tower of Jewels the most elaborate decorations
of Mr. William de Leftwich Dodge, of New York, command attention first
of all by their fine and lively colors. These decorations show a most
experienced artist, treating a wide variety of interrelated subjects
with great skill. These enormous canvases, sixteen by ninety-six feet in
size, are divided into a triptych, each picture continuing its central
scheme into two smaller side panels.

The great composition to the left is labeled "The Atlantic and the
Pacific," with a picture of "The Purchase" on the right and "The
Discovery" on the left. Opposite we have the "Gateway of all Nations,"
with "Labor Crowned" and "The Achievement" on either side.

Mr. Dodge has a very fine sense of decoration, which he used with much
skill. His command of human forms, together with the complete mastery of
all other detail, enables him to paint very easily decorations which
leave no doubt as to his long and varied experience in this field.

"The Atlantic and the Pacific" is very interesting in its formal
symmetry, splendidly relieved by the individual treatment of the eastern
and western nations which receive with expressions of joy the completion
of the great waterway which means so much for the furthering of their
mutual interests.

"The Gateway of all Nations" on the opposite side is less symmetrical,
but very well balanced in its arrangement of many elements, naturalistic
as well as allegorical. On the left, in the middle picture, one sees the
retiring forces of labor, proudly watching the great procession of
varied ships, moving in a joyous parade, led by Father Neptune and
attendants, towards the recently opened gate. Preceding Father Neptune
are allegorical figures, rhythmically swinging away into the sky. All of
Dodge's decorations are good for their sound decorative treatment,
always sustaining well the architectural surrounding frame, so
particularly important in this great and massive tower. Dodge's
backgrounds are devoid of any naturalistic suggestion, which so often
destroys otherwise effective decorations.

The function of a decoration must always be to preserve the feeling of
the wall, as opposed to the work of the easel painter, who wants to
assist in forgetting that there is a canvas and to suggest that we are
looking into the far distance. A good decoration should, as it were,
allow the driving of a nail into any part of its surface - it should not
make a hole in the wall.

In the two triumphal arches of the Nations of the East and the West,
Frank Vincent Du Mond and Edward Simmons, respectively, contributed to
the scheme of decorations. In the western arch, DuMond painted a
continuous frieze of the march of civilization towards the great West.
His work is most conscientiously done, very intellectual, and most
effective in color, as well as in arrangement. You see in his continued
scheme the entire story of western development.

It begins with the youth departing from his old father, who only
reluctantly - feeling the infirmities of old age - stays behind.
Preceding the young man, the historical prairie-schooner, accompanied by
pioneers, continues the procession. This is developed further in
historical groups of soldiers, priests, and men representing the
intellectual rise of the great West. There is William Keith, with the
palette, Bishop Taylor, Bret Harte, Captain Anza, and other well known
western figures, taking their place in the procession of tent wagons and
allegorical figures, all striving towards that very fine group
representing California in all the gorgeousness and splendor of the
Golden State. This composition of "California," taken by itself, is one
of the very best passages in the whole decoration, and could very
effectively be used all by itself.

On the east, Edward Simmons presents two very charming compositions,
full of great refinement and delicacy. The refined coloring of his
decorations, so very delightful by themselves, is not in accord with the
architecture, and in the overawing surroundings of the great arch they
do not look as well as they might in a more intimate scheme of smaller
scale. The one to the left, as seen from the Court of the Universe,
tells of the dreams which led to the exploring and exploiting of the
great West. Carefully designed figures of great refinement. represent
"Hope" and "Illusory Hope," scattering tempting bubbles, heading the
procession of stately women. They are followed by "Adventure," "Art,"
"Imagination," "Truth," and "Religion" and a group suggesting family
life.

On the opposite side the westward trend of War, Commerce, Conquest,
Imagination, and Religion from all corners of the earth is typified.

Mr. Simmons in all his work employs a very unusual technique of broken
columns, without losing a certain desirable simplicity of surface. His
allegorical theme on the north side will linger in the minds of the
people as one of the best of the Exposition decorations, particularly
for its graceful drawing.

It seems hardly possible to do adequate justice to the very unusual
genius of Frank Brangwyn, who charms thousands of Exposition visitors
with his eight panels, representing the Four Elements, in the Court of
Abundance. Brangwyn's pictures have one great advantage over all of the
others, which lies in their accessible location, well controlled by
daylight. All the other decorations seem to me to be situated too high
above the ground. Brangwyn's have no such disadvantage to contend with.
How much more important, for instance, Mathews' lunette would look,
placed somewhere nearer the level of the eye.

Brangwyn's canvases are a veritable riot of color, full of animation and
life. They are almost dynamic. There seems to be something going on in
all of them, all the time, and one hardly knows whether it is the
composition, the color, or the subject, or all three, which gives them
this very pronounced feeling of animation. He knows how to approach the
extreme possibilities in pictorial decoration without losing sight of
certain elements of repose. Seen from a distance, their effect at first
is somewhat startling, owing to their new note, not reminiscent in the
very least of the work of any other living - or past - painter. On
closer examination they disclose a great wealth of form, very skillfully
treated. There is every indication that it gave the artist the utmost
pleasure to paint them. This spirit of personal enjoyment, which all of
them convey in a remarkably sustained fashion, is contagious, and
disarms all criticism. They are primarily great paintings in a technical
sense. Added to that quality is a passionate love of pure color,
juxtaposed with fine feeling for complementary colors of great
intensity.

Brangwyn's glass window technique, of separation into many primary and
secondary colors by many broad contrasts of neutral browns and grays, is
very effective in bringing a feeling of harmony in all of his paintings,
no matter how intense their individual color notes may be.

His pictures are not intellectual in the least, and all of the people in
his pictures are animals, more or less, and merely interested in having
a square meal and being permitted to enjoy life in general, to the
fullest extent.

The quality of enjoyment that runs through all of Brangwyn's work is
extremely useful in the general atmosphere of Mullgardt's court. In the
northwest corner, Nature is represented, in all the fecundity of the
earth. Only in our wildest dreams, and only in the advertisements of
California farm lands and orchards, do such grapes, pumpkins, pears, and
apples exist.

The picture to the left shows the grape-treaders, in the old-fashioned
and unhygienic practice of crushing grapes by dancing on them in
enormous vats. Others are seen gathering and delivering more grapes. As
in the other picture, showing the harvest of fruit, more people are
shown. Brangwyn never hesitates to use great numbers of people, which
seem to give him no trouble whatever in their modeling and
characterization.

Following on to the right, "Fire," represented as the primitive fire and
as industrial fire, in two pictures, continues the scheme. That group of
squatting woodmen carefully nursing a little fire is almost comical,
with their extended cheeks, and one can almost feel the effort of their
lungs in the strained anatomy of their backs. There does not seem to be
anything too difficult for Brangwyn. "Industrial Fire" is interesting
from the decorative note of many pieces of pottery in the foreground.
They seem to have come from the kiln which muscular men are attending.

"Water" is unusually graceful and delicate in its vertical arrangement
of trees and the curve of the fountain stream, coming from the side of a
hill. Women, children, and men have congregated, taking their turn in
filling all sorts of vessels, some carried on their heads, some in their
arms. Brangwyn's clever treatment of zoölogical and botanical detail is
well shown in flowers in the foreground, such as foxglove and freesia,
and the graceful forms of a pair of pinkish flamingoes. In the other
panel of the same subject, a group of men on the shore are hauling in
their nets.

The last of the four, "Air," represents this element in two totally
different ways; the one on the left gives the more tender, gentle
movement of this element, in the suggestion of the scent of the bowmen
screened by trees, moving toward their prospective prey, while the other
very bold composition is of a windmill turned away from the destructive
power of an impending windstorm. In the foreground people are rushed
along by gusts of wind, while children, unaware of the impending storm,
are flying kites.

The masterful and varied treatment of these eight canvases show Brangwyn
as the great painter he is known to be. We should rejoice to have such
excellent examples of his brush permanently with us.

While not exactly belonging to the number of official decorations,
Edward Trumbull's wall paintings in the unique Pennsylvania building are
of great interest. Thoroughly dignified in their composition, they are
most descriptive in their subject-matter. The "Pennsylvania Industries"
are on the west side and "Penn's Treaty with the Indians" on the other.
It is evident that Trumbull is a disciple of Brangwyn, though a personal
note is not lacking in his work.

The tea-room of the California building harbors some mural decorations
by Miss Florence Lundborg which the male part of the population can
enjoy only by special invitation. I regret that they are not placed
somewhere where the casual Exposition stroller can see them, because
they are deserving of more attention than they are apt to receive. Miss
Lundborg's artistic contributions have for many years been along the
lines of decorations and in this big, well-composed figural scheme she
discloses again a very fine, sympathetic understanding of the problems
of a wall decoration. The color scheme is very refreshing and gives life
to a large hall which has been endowed with unusual distinction by Miss
Lundborg's art. A number of decorative floral medallions complete a
scheme which is characterized throughout by dignity and sympathy.



The Illumination
Conclusion



While a daytime investigation of the Exposition no doubt has its
rewards, the full meaning of the Exposition reveals itself at night.
Never before has an Exposition been illuminated in the unique fashion of
the Panama-Pacific International Exposition.

Former exposition lighting consisted of a lavish display of lighting
fixtures, and of unavoidable millions of glaring bulbs, the number of
which nobody was permitted to forget. The offensive glare of the direct
light had to be eliminated to preserve that feeling of tonality, of
restfulness, so impressive in daytime. In other words, the sources of
all lights at night have been concealed, or so concentrated that they
could be far removed, so as not directly to offend the eye. The effect
is very much like the flood of light of a full-moon summer night.

In speaking of the rich mellowness of the lighting effect, one feels
again compelled to speak of the travertine stucco as the artistic
foundation of not only the architecture, sculpture, painting, and
landscape garden effects, but also of the illuminating effects designed
by Mr. W. D'A. Ryan, and executed by Mr. Guy L. Bayley. Without the
mellow walls and rich orange sculptural details, no such picture of
tonal beauty could have been produced.

It is difficult to single out, among the many suggestive pictures, the
most alluring one, but I may safely say that the first half hour after
the close of day, as enjoyed around the lagoon, with the Fine Arts
Building in the background, reflected in the waters, will linger forever
in the minds of all who are privileged to see it.

Such blues I have seen only in pictures by Maxfield Parrish. Combined
with the rich gold of the colonnade, they are almost supernatural. The
whole effect, as reflected in the placid surface of the lagoon,
occasionally broken here and there by a slowly moving waterfowl, or the
protruding mouth of a carp, is inspiring, and must awaken an aesthetic
response in the soul of the most ordinary mortal. Very quickly, however,
does this colorful picture change, and the very intense blue of the
early evening sky rapidly changes into a colorless black.

The Palace of Fine Arts, above all others, offers many wonderful bits of
enchantment at night. It seems to have been thought out not only for its
daytime effect but for the night as well.

Of the inner courts, those with larger and smaller bodies of water are
most effective at night. The Court of the Four Seasons, with its placid,
shrub-encircled pool, is doubly interesting at night. The four
wall-fountains add much to the outdoor feeling that this court
possesses, by reason of the suggestive murmur of the waters, descending
in gentle splashes from bowl to bowl.

The most striking court, in its mysteriousness, is Mullgardt's Court of
Abundance, particularly so on a foggy night. Large volumes of vapor are
lazily rising from huge bowls and torches, below, and in the tower,
suggesting the early days of the cosmic All, cooling off from the
turbulent period of its creation. The fogs sweeping from the bay add
more mystery, and with the gorgeous perfume of the hyacinth carpet in
the garden spaces, the effect is almost narcotic. The whole court, under
these conditions, seems heavy with the atmosphere of abundance, of
physical well-being, of slumbering natural powers.

At the same time, it is truly religious in its effect of turning the
mind away from the ordinary world into the realm of the mystic and the
supernatural. I never realized what our San Francisco fogs could produce
in artistic effects until I visited Mullgardt's court on a foggy night.
The effect of the fog is absolutely ennobling.

So many things like these, possibly not originally thought of, have
added, together with the illumination, rare charm to the Exposition.
Great masses of pigeons, attracted by the light thrown upon the two
great groups of the Nations of the West and of the East, give an
unusually inspiring touch to the Exposition at night. The spectacle of
these graceful birds encircling rhythmically the great sculptural piles,
apparently enjoying the bath of light, will never be forgotten. These
pigeons seem to have decided to live in the Exposition; they are there
always, and apparently glad to play their part in the Exposition
ensemble.

The lesson of the Exposition will be far reaching in its many
demonstrations of the commercial value of artistic assets. The whole
Exposition is really a city-planning exposition of the first order. Any
city-builder, by the respectful use of the great fundamental principles
of balance, harmony, and unity, cannot help but do on a large scale what
the Exposition presents in a more condensed fashion. I admit that we
have made tremendous strides in the remodeling of many of our large
cities, particularly in the East, but we are still constantly starting
new cities in the old planless way.

Our only practical and lasting effort in San Francisco along the lines
of civic progress has been made in the civic center, where a
far-reaching plan has been adopted and partly put into existence, and in
some of our very charming newer restricted residence districts in the
western end of the city, like St. Francis Wood, or in Northbrae and
Claremont, in Berkeley, and elsewhere around the bay.

There is no doubt that we must better capitalize our own artistic
assets, which we often allow to lie idle before we ever utilize them
properly. The water front, Telegraph hill, the ocean shore, Sutro
Heights, and Lincoln Park are all waiting to be developed in such a way
as the Exposition suggests. The talk of cost is idle twaddle. If the
Exposition, as an artistic investment, pays - and I see no reason
whatever why it should not pay for itself - then we cannot do anything
better than to invest our money wisely in other artistic improvements of
a permanent character.

San Francisco is known all the world over for its unique location,
rivaled only by that of Marseilles, and we have now the responsibility
to use this natural asset, for which many envy us. The Exposition will
start an avalanche of improvements along artistic lines which will be
given increasing momentum by the development of long periods of
prosperity.

The most urgent need, no, doubt, is the establishment of a municipal art
gallery in the civic center, the only ideal place for it, where the
workingman from the Mission and the merchant from west of Van Ness
avenue will find it equally convenient of access. If a smaller number of
citizens could raise the money for a municipal opera house, there should
be no trouble in getting funds for a building devoted to a far more
extensive public benefit, like an art gallery. People generally will
want to know why it is that certain things can be given to them for one
year, so successfully, and why it should not be possible to have them
with us permanently. The inspiring lesson of beauty, expressed so simply
and intelligently, will sink deep into the minds of the great masses, to
be reborn in an endless stream of aesthetic expression in the spiritual
and physical improvement of the people.

We, out here in the West, have been measuring the tide of human progress
in biological terms. We have almost forgotten the days of our great
calamity, and still speak of them in that typical expression of
apprehension of the "earthquake babies." Let us think now of the future
and its bright prospects, inaugurated so auspiciously for the benefit of
our Exposition generation.



Appendix



Guide to Sculpture



South Gardens:

Fountain of Energy (center) - A. Stirling Caller
Directly opposite the main entrance, the most conspicuously placed
fountain in the grounds. The four major figures in the bowl represent
the Pacific, the Atlantic, and the two Arctic oceans. The minor eight
figures suggest the marine character of the fountain. The reclining
figures on the sphere typify the two hemispheres. The youth on horseback
represents energy and strength.

The Mermaid (fountains in long pools) - Arthur Putnam
The same figure is used twice, near the Horticultural Palace on the west
and Festival Hall on the east.

Equestrian Statue, "Cortez" - Charles Niehaus
Guarding the Tower of Jewels. This statue represents the great Spanish
conqueror. As one faces the tower, this figure is on the left.

Equestrian Statue of "Pizarro" - Charles Cary Rumsey
Similar in type and feeling to the preceding statue on the right, in
front of the Tower of Jewels.

Horticultural Building:

Frieze at Base of the Spires - Eugene Louis Boutier
Loose arrangement of standing female figures surrounding the bases of
the spires on all sides of the Horticultural Palace, with no other
meaning than that of decoration.

Pairs of Caryatides - John Bateman
Architectural vertical members supporting the pergola around the
Horticultural Palace. Used also on the Young Women's Christian
Association and the Press buildings, near the main entrance.

Tower of Jewels:

Statues of "Priest," "Soldier," "Philosopher," and "Adventurer" - John
      Flanagan
Four figures suggestive of the forces which influenced the destinies of
our country. Very big in scale - about twice life size. They are
standing on a row of columns below the cornice on the tower and are
repeated on all four sides.

The Armored Horseman (Terrace of the Tower) - F. M. L. Tonetti
A decorative equestrian statue on the lower terrace of the tower above
the preceding figures - repeated sixteen times.

Tower Colonnades:

Fountain of Youth (east end) - Edith Woodman Burroughs
Snugly placed inside the abutting walls, east of the Tower of Jewels.
Naive in character and simple in treatment, without any further
symbolical meaning than that suggested by the name. Motif in side
panels, "Ship of Life."

Fountain of El Dorado (west end) - Mrs. Harry Payne Whitney
In position similar to the preceding, west of the Tower of Jewels. A
triptych of dramatic expression, naturalistically treated.

Festival Hall:

Figure crowning the minor Domes - Sherry E. Fry
A standing finial figure, on the minor domes, of graceful pose.

Two groups in front of the Pylons - Sherry E. Fry
Practically conceived as wall fountains, they are composed of the figure
of a girl, suggesting the joy of life, emphasized by young Pan, with a
lizard, at the base on the left, and a seated young girl on the right.

Cartouche over the entrance (figures only) - Sherry E. Fry
An architectural unit over the big arch of the main central dome,
outside the building, for decorative effect.

Reclining figures on Pylons - Sherry E. Fry
A male and a female figure, reclining, crowning the architectural units
projecting into the South Gardens. Suggestive of life and pleasure.

Court of Palms:

Equestrian statue, "The End of the Trail" - James Earl Fraser
At the entrance of the Court of Palms, off the main avenue opposite the
Horticultural Palace. Symbolical figure, representing the destinies of
the vanishing red race; to be considered in connection with the
"Pioneer" at the entrance of the Court of Flowers.

The Fairy (Italian Towers - Palms and Flowers) - Carl Grupp
A figural termination of the four towers guarding the entrances to the
Courts of Palms and of Flowers.

Caryatides - John Bateman and Mr. Calder
Winged half-figure in the attic-space, repeated all around the court.

Spandrels - Albert Weinert
Reclining decorative figures composed into the triangular spaces over
all the doorways in the corridor.

Court of Flowers:

Equestrian statue, "The Pioneer" - Solon Borglum
At the entrance of this court. Representing the white man and his
victorious civilization. (To be studied with "The End of the Trail.")

Lions (at the entrances) - Albert Laessle
Very conventional architectural decorative animal forms at the entrance
inside the Court of Flowers - used six times.

The Fairy (above the Italian Towers) - Carl Gruppe
[See Fairy under Court of Palms by the same artist.]

Central Fountain, "Beauty and the Beast" - Edgar Walter
Decorative fountain inside the court, with crowning figure of a young
woman, reposing on a fabulous beast.

Flower Girls (in niches) - A. Stirling Calder
Repeated figures, conventionally treated, of young women, decorated
profusely with flower garlands, in the attic space.

Court of Abundance:

Groups on the altar in the main tower - Chester Beach
These groups constitute the historical composition in the tower on the
north side of the court. Beginning with the lower one, they represent
the primitive ages, the middle ages, and modern times.

Group at column bases and finials - Leo Lentelli
Decorative figures. Used four times at the base of the shaft near the
tower. A single finial figure of a girl with a bow is used on top of the
same column.

Fountain of the Earth (central pool) - Robert I. Aitken
An architectural composition telling the story of human life in its many
phases. The outstretched arms on the south side represent destiny giving
and taking life.

Figures on top of the Arcade - Albert Weinert
Primitive men, with the pelican and deer; the mother with a child is
repeated all around the court.

Aquatic Life (north extension) - Sherry B. Fry
A figure which might represent Neptune's daughter. This figure stands
north of the tower in the open space toward the Marina below, between
the Palaces of Transportation and Mines.

Court of the Universe:

The Nations of the East; The Nations of the West - A. Stirling Calder,
      Leo Lentelli, and Frederick C. R. Roth, collaborators.
Colossal groups on top of the two great arches, representing, in many
types, Western and Eastern civilization.

Statues on columns (eastern and western arches) - Leo Lentelli
Winged statues standing on top of columns on the inside as well as the
outside of the two great arches.

Spandrels, Pegasus - Frederick G. R. Roth
Triangular compositions spanning the arches, repeated on both sides.

Medallion - B. Bufano
Circular decorations of male figures on the left side of the arch
without any meaning other than architectural effect.

Medallion - A. Stirling Calder
Same as above, of female figures, on the right side of the arches.

The Stars (colonnades) - A. Stirling Calder
Very conventional standing figure, with hands united above the head,
forming a star with radiated head-dress, placed on the balustrades of
buildings adjoining the court and in the avenue leading north from the
court.

Frieze on corner pavilions, "Signs of the Zodiac" - Hermon A. MacNeil
Decorative friezes on four sides of the four corner pavilions, of
mythological character.

Two fountains, "The Rising Sun" and "The Setting Sun" - Adolph A.
      Weinman
Two columns rising from fountain bowls and crowned by winged figures, of
a woman, representing the Setting Sun, on the left, and of a winged male
figure, the Rising Sun, on the right.

Four reclining figures, "The Elements" - Robert I. Aitken
At the head of the stairs leading into the sunken garden; on the left,
near the Music Pavilion, "Fire;" on the right, "Water;" on the left,
near the tower, "Air;" on the right, "Earth."

Two Groups - Paul Manship
Near the arches at the head of the steps, two figural groups. One is of
female figures, suggesting pleasure; the other, music and art.

Western Plaza, in Front of Machinery Palace:

Monument, "Genius of Creation" - Daniel Chester French
Group of allegorical figures, suggestive of the development of the human
race.

Court of the Four Seasons:

Four groups representing "The Seasons" - Furio Piccirilli
In niches. Southeast corner, "Winter;" northeast corner, "Fall;"
southwest corner, "Spring;" northwest corner, "Summer."

The Harvest (above the half dome) - Albert Jaegers
Seated figure with a horn of plenty and other agricultural emblems.

Rain and Sunshine (figures on columns) - Albert Jaegers
Standing female figures on columns on either side of the half dome.
Sunshine, holding a palm branch, is on the left, and Rain, holding up a
shell, on the right.

Groups, "Feast of Sacrifice," on the pylons in the forecourt - Albert
      Jaegers
The two groups on top of the building, in which huge bulls predominate,
led by a young woman and a young man; very decorative.

Fountain, "Ceres" - Evelyn Beatrice Longman
Situated halfway between the Court of the Four Seasons and the Marina,
in an avenue leading north; architectural in character.

Spandrels (arcade) - August Jaegers
Reclining female figures above the arches at the west and east entrance
of the Court of the Four Seasons.

Attic figures - August Jaegers
Standing decorative figures of architectonic feeling, in the attic above
the preceding figures.

Varied Industries Palace:

Tympanum group in the doorway - Ralph Stackpole
Groups of men and women in the lunette of the ornate doorway on the
south side.

Secondary group, doorway - Ralph Stackpole
Groups above the preceding one, showing Age transferring his burden to
Youth.

Figure for niches, doorway (man with the pick) - Ralph Stackpole
A repeated figure of a miner, of relatively small scale, on the consoles
in the doorway.

Figure for keystone in doorway - Ralph Stackpole
A small seated figure of a laborer, on the headstone.

Figure for niches, on the east façade of this Palace and of the Palace
      of Mines - Albert Weinert
Standing figure in niches above doors, also used in avenue leading into
the Court of Abundance from the east.

West Wall of the Palaces (facing Fine Arts):

Motifs for wall niches ("Triumph of the Field" and "Abundance") -
      Charles R. Harley
Seated male and female figures surrounded by a great wealth of
emblematic forms. The male represents "Triumph of the Field;" the
female, "Abundance."

Figures on columns (flanking the half domes): Philosophy and Physical
      Vigor - Ralph Stackpole
A colossal figure of a youth, on top of free-standing columns on the
west wall of the main buildings.

Palace of Fine Arts:

Standing figure, inside of the rotunda on top of columns - Herbert Adams

Figures in the attic of the rotunda - Ulric H. Ellerhusen
Standing females and males between architectural friezes immediately
below the cupola of the dome.

Frieze on the altar - Bruno Louis Zimm
Figural frieze at the base of the rotunda facing the Laguna can only be
seen from a great distance across the water.

Relief panels for the rotunda - Bruno Louis Zimm
Eight panels on the outside, of strictly architectural character,
representing a procession, showing the development and influence of art.

Friezes around the base on the ground - Ulric H. Ellerhusen
Figures with garlands, used everywhere at the base of the building.

Figures on the flower boxes - Ulric H. Ellerhusen
Standing figures, looking inward, representing introspection.

Kneeling figure on the altar - Ralph Stackpole
The shrine of worship. That delicate small figure seen best from across
the laguna in front of the rotunda.

North Façade, Main Group of Exhibit Palaces:

Figure for central niches, "Conquistador" - Allen Newman
A Spanish soldier, with helmet and sword and a large mantle.

Figure for side niches, "The Pirate" - Allen Newman
A coarsely shaped man, in small niches on the north side of the main
buildings near the preceding one.

Column of Progress:

Bas-relief (four sides of the pedestal) - Isidore Konti
Four allegorical friezes depicting man's striving for achievement.

Finial group, "The Adventurous Bowman," frieze and decoration - Hermon
      A. MacNeil
The group on top of the column suggests man's supreme effort in life,
the supporting frieze is "The Toilers."

Palace of Machinery:

Figures on columns (four "Powers") - Haig Patigian
Repeated large scale figures of men, representing the industries
exhibited within the building.

Friezes for columns, vestibule - Haig Patigian
Decorative architectural figure compositions of similar subjects.

Spandrels (two pairs) - Haig Patigian
Reclining figures filling out the triangular spaces above the doors in
the vestibule reflecting the purpose of the building.

Palace of Education:

Repeated figure within the Half Dome, of Thought - Albert Weinert
Standing figure of a maiden with a scroll inside the portal, repeated
eight times.

Palace of Food Products:

Repeated figure within the Half Dome, "Physical Vigor" - Earl Cummings
Similar to that above, inside the Portal of Vigor, showing a standing
young man, with an oak wreath.

Friezes and figures in niches, main south entrance (portals of the
      Manufacturers and Liberal Arts Palaces) - Mahonri Young
Figures representing domestic life and industries like foundry work,
smithing, spinning, and sculpture. Figures in the niches: woman with
spindles and men with hammers.

Tympanum panels (north and south entrances of the Palace of Education) -
      Gustave Gerlach
Decorative panels above the doors outside of the building showing
maternal instruction.

Panels inlaid in the walls over the minor entrances
Pupils of the School of Sculpture of the Society of Beaux Arts
Architects and National Sculpture Society.
Decorative panels of school life and of science.

Figure, "Victory," on the gables of the palaces - Louis Ulrich
A winged figure used on top of all the palaces.



Mural Decorations



Court of Abundance:

Earth - Frank Brangwyn
Northwest corner of the corridor, two panels: grape-crushers on the left
and fruit-pickers on the right.

Fire - Frank Brangwyn
Two panels in the northeast corner of the corridor. Primitive Fire on
the left and Industrial Fire on the right.

Water - Frank Brangwyn
Two panels in the southeast corner of the corridor. Fountain motive on
the left and fishermen hauling nets on the right.

Air - Frank Brangwyn
Two panels in the southwest corner of the corridor. In the left panel,
the scent of hunters carried toward their prospective prey. A windmill
on the right.

Court of the Four Seasons:

Spring - H. Milton Bancroft
Two murals above the doorway in the colonnade (southwest corner). To the
left, Spring; to the right, Seedtime.

Summer - H. Milton Bancroft
Two murals similar to those in the northwest corner of the court.
Fruition on the right; Summer on the left.

Autumn - H. Milton Bancroft
In the northeast corner of the court, two panels: Autumn on the right;
Harvest on the left.

Winter - H. Milton Bancroft
Similar in location to the preceding, in southeast corner. Two murals,
Festivity on the right; Winter on the left.

Man Receiving Instruction in Nature's Laws - H. Milton Bancroft
One upright panel, in the half dome on the right.

Art Crowned by Time - H. Milton Bancroft
On the left opposite the preceding.

Eastern Arch, Court of the Universe:

Hope and Attendants: (On the north wall) - Edward Simmons

Historical types: (On the south wall) - Edward Simmons
Representing Greece, Italy, Spain, England and France, on the south
wall.

Tower of Jewels:

The Atlantic and Pacific (in the center);
The Discovery (on the left;)
The Purchase (on the right) - William de Leftwich Dodge
Gateway of All Nations (in the center);
Labor Crowned (on the left);
Achievement (on the right) - William de Leftwich Dodge
Six panels inspired by the construction of the Panama Canal. The first
group is on the west wall, the second on the east.

Western Arch, Court of the Universe:

The Westward March of Civilization, in two panels by - Frank V. DuMond
Beginning in the north panel and continued in the opposite one.

Court of Palms:

Fruits and Flowers - Childe Hassam
Painting in a lunette over the entrance into the Palace of Education.

The Pursuit of Pleasure - Charles Holloway
A painting of the same shape as the preceding, over the entrance into
the Palace of Liberal Arts.

The Victorious Spirit - Arthur Mathews
In the lunette over the doorway into the Court of the Four Seasons.

Rotunda, Palace of the Fine Arts:

The Four Golds of California (Golden Metal, Wheat, Citrus Fruits, and
      Poppies) - Robert Reid
In the ceiling inside the rotunda.

Art, born of flame, expresses its ideals to the world through music,
      poetry, architecture, painting, and sculpture - Robert Reid
In the same location.

Birth of European Art. Birth of Oriental Art - Robert Reid
Belonging to the preceding group of eight pictures by the same artist.

Pennsylvania Building:

Decorative Paintings - Edward Trumbull
In the east and west walls of the center court of the building, showing
Penn's Treaty with the Indians on the right and Pennsylvania Industries
on the left.



Biographical Notes



Adams, Herbert
(Sculptor) New York. Born in West Concord, Vermont 1858. Studied in
Paris. Figures on columns inside of Rotunda, Palace of Fine Arts.

Aitken, Robert I.
(Sculptor) New York. Born in San Francisco, California, 1878. Studied in
Mark Hopkins Institute, San Francisco, and Paris. The Four Elements, in
Court of the Universe, and Fountain of Earth in Court of Abundance.

Bacon, Henry
(Architect) New York. Born in Watseka Illinois, 1866. Studied at the
University of Illinois and in Europe. Court of the Four Seasons.

Bakewell and Brown
(Architects). John Bakewell, Jr. San Francisco. Born in Topeka, Kansas
1872. Studied at the Beaux Arts Paris. Arthur Brown, Jr. San Francisco.
Born in Oakland, California, 1874. Studied in the University of
California and at the Beaux Arts in Paris. Horticultural Palace.

Bateman, John
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Cedarville New Jersey 1877. Studied in the
School of Industrial Art. Philadelphia and in Paris. Caryatides outside
of Horticultural Building.

Bayley, Guy L.
(Electrical Engineer) San Francisco. Born in Vacaville, California,
1875. Studied at University of California. Chief of Electric and
Mechanical Department.

Beach, Chester
(Sculptor) New York. Born in San Francisco, California, 1881. Studied in
Paris, New York and Rome. Groups on tower on Court of Abundance.

Bennett, Edward
(Architect) Chicago. Preliminary Plans of Exposition.

Bitter, Karl
(Sculptor). Born in Vienna, Austria, 1867. Died April 10, 1915, New
York. Studied at Vienna Academy of Fine Arts. Chief of Sculpture.

Bliss and Faville
(Architects) Walter D. Bliss, San Francisco. Born in Nevada, 1868.
Studied in the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and abroad. William
B. Faville, San Francisco. Born 1866. Studied in the Massachusetts
Institute of Technology. Main Buildings forming center unit of eight
Palaces.

Boberg, Ferdinand
(Architect) Stockholm. Born in Falun, Sweden, 1860. Swedish Building.

Borglum, Solon H.
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Ogden, Utah, 1868. Studied in Art Academy
of Cincinnati, and in Paris. The Pioneer.

Bourgeois, Jean Louis
(Architect) Born in Autun, France, 1876. Died February 26, 1915, in
France. Collaborated with Bakewell and Brown in Horticultural Building
design.

Boutier, Eugene Louis
(Sculptor) Frieze at Base of Spires on Horticultural Building.

Brangwyn, Frank
(Painter) London. Born in Bruges, Belgium, 1867. Mural paintings of the
Four Elements in the Court of Abundance.

Bufano, B.
(Sculptor) New York. Medallions on the arches in Court of the Universe.

Burditt, Thomas H.
(Architect) San Francisco. Born in Nellore, India, 1886. California
State Building.

Burroughs, Mrs. Edith Woodman
(Sculptor) Flushing, Long Island. Born in Riverdale-on-Hudson 1871.
Studied in Art Students League of few York and in Paris. Fountain of
Youth.

Calder, A. Stirling
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Philadelphia 1870. Studied in Pennsylvania
Academy of Fine Arts and in Paris. Acting Chief of Sculpture. Fountain
of Energy; The Star in Court of the Universe; Flower Girl in Court of
Flowers; Nations of the East; Nations of the West, in collaboration with
F. Roth and Leo Lentelli.

Carrere and Hastings
(Architects) John M. Carrere, deceased. Thomas Hastings, New York. Born
New York, 1860. Studied in Beaux Arts, Paris. Tower of Jewels.

Cummings, M. Earl
(Sculptor) San Francisco. Born in Salt Lake City, Utah, 1876. Studied in
San Francisco and Paris. Repeated figure in Portal of Vigor. Palace of
Food Products.

Denneville, Paul E.
(Architectural Sculptor) New York. Born in Ancy France, 1873. Studied
Cooper Institute New York, and abroad. Travertine finish of buildings.

Dodge, William De Leftwich
(Mural Painter) New York. Born in Liberty, Virginia, 1867. Studied in
Munich and Paris. Two Murals in Tower of Jewels.

Dumond, Frank V.
(Painter) New York. Born in Rochester New York, 1865. Studied in Paris.
Two Murals in arch of Setting Sun.

Ellerhusen, Ulric H.
(Sculptor) New York. Figures in attic of Rotunda and repeated frieze at
base of Fine Arts Building.

Farquhar, Robert David
(Architect) Los Angeles. Born in Brookline. Massachusetts, 1872. Studied
at Harvard and at Beaux Arts, Paris. Festival Hall.

Flanagan, John
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Newark, New Jersey, 1865. Studied in
Boston, New York and Paris. Figures on Tower of Jewels.

Fraser, James Earl
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Winona. Minnesota, 1876. Studied in Paris.
The End of the Trail.

French, Daniel Chester
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Exeter, New Hampshire, 1850. Studied in
Boston, New York and Florence. Genius of Creation.

Fry, Sherry E.
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Creston, Iowa 1879. Studied in Art
Institute, Chicago, and in Paris. Figural decorations on Festival Hall.

Garnett, Porter
(Writer) Berkeley. Born in San Francisco, California, 1871. Selection of
inscriptions on monuments and arches.

Gerlach. Gustave
(Sculptor) Weehawken, New Jersey. Tympanum panels north and south
entrances Palace of Education.

Gruppe, Carl
(Sculptor) New York. Fairy figure on Italian towers.

Guerin, Jules
(Painter) New York. Born in St. Louis Missouri, 1866. Studied in America
and abroad. Director of color and decoration. Color scheme.

Harley, Charles R.
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 1864. Studied
in Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts and in Paris. "The Triumph of the
Field" and "Abundance," on west facade of main buildings.

Hassam, Childe
(Painter) New York. Born in Boston, Massachusetts, 1859. Studied in
Paris. Lunette, Fruits and Flowers, in Court of Palms.

Holloway, Charles
(Painter). Lunette, The Pursuit of Pleasure, in Court of Palms.

Hornbostel, Henry
(Architect) New York. Born in Brooklyn New York, 1867. Studied in New
York and Paris. Pennsylvania State Building.

Howard, John Galen
(Architect) Berkeley. Born in Chelmsford Massachusetts, 1864. Studied in
Boston and Beaux Arts, Paris. Exposition Auditorium in the Civic Center
in collaboration with Frederick Meyer and John Reid, Jr.

Jaegers, Albert
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Elberfeld, Germany, 1867. Studied abroad.
Figures of Harvest Rain and Sunshine, and Bulls in Court of Four
Seasons.

Jaegers, August
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Barmen, Germany, 1878. Studied in Paris.
Spandrels and attic figures in Court of Four Seasons.

Kelham, George W.
(Architect) San Francisco. Born in Manchester, Massachusetts, 1871.
Studied at Harvard. Director of Architecture. Courts of Palms and
Flowers.

Konti, Isidore
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Vienna, Austria, 1862. Studied in Imperial
Academy, Vienna. Frieze at base of Column of Progress.

Laessle, Albert
(Sculptor) Philadelphia. Born in Philadelphia Pennsylvania, 1877.
Studied in Philadelphia. Lions in Court of Flowers.

Lentelli, Leo
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Bologna, Italy, 1879. Figures on decorative
shafts in Court of Abundance; Nations of the East and Nations of the
West in collaboration with Stirling Calder and Frederick Roth.

Longman, Miss Evelyn Beatrice
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Winchester, Ohio, 1874. Studied in Chicago
and New York. Fountain of Ceres.

Lundborg, Florence
(Painter) San Francisco. Born in San Francisco. Studied in San Francisco
and in Paris. Mural decorations in Tea Room of the California Building.

McKim, Mead and White
(Architects) New York. Living members of the firm: William R. Mead. Born
in Battleboro, Vermont 1846. Studied at Amherst and in Europe. W. Symmes
Richardson. W. Mitchell Kendall. Court of the Universe.

McLaren, John
(Landscape Engineer) San Francisco. Born in Scotland. Horticultural
effects.

MacNeil, Hermon A.
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Everett, Massachusetts, 1866. Studied in
Boston and Paris. Adventurous Bowman and frieze of Toilers on Column of
Progress.

Manship, Paul
(Sculptor) New York. Groups in Court of Universe.

Markwart, Arthur
(Engineer) San Francisco. Born in Illinois, 1880. Studied at University
of California. Assistant Chief of Construction. Structural design of
Machinery Palace.

Mathews, Arthur F.
(Painter) San Francisco. Born in Wisconsin, 1860. Studied in Paris.
Lunette, the Victorious Spirit, in Court of Palms.

Maybeck, Bernard R.
(Architect) San Francisco. Born in New York, 1862. Studied in Beaux
Arts, Paris. Palace of Fine Arts.

Meyer, Frederick
(Architect) San Francisco. Born in San Francisco, California, 1875.
Studied in America. Exposition Auditorium in Civic Center in
collaboration with John Galen Howard and John Reid, Jr.

Mullgardt, Louis Christian
(Architect) San Francisco. Born in Washington, Missouri, 1866. Studied
at Harvard. Court of the Ages, also named Court of Abundance.

Nahl, Perham W.
(Painter) Berkeley. Born in San Francisco, California, 1869. Studied in
Hopkins Institute, San Francisco, and in Europe. Exposition Poster, "The
Thirteenth Labor of Hercules."

Newman, Allen G.
(Sculptor) New York. Born in New York, 1875. Pupil of J. Q. A. Ward.
Conquistador and Pirate on north facade main buildings.

Niehaus, Charles H.
(Sculptor) New Rochelle, New York. Born in Cincinnati, Ohio, 1855.
Studied in Cincinnati and Munich. Cortez.

Patigian, Haig
(Sculptor) San Francisco. Born in Armenia 1876. Studied in Paris.
Decorations of Machinery Hall.

Piccirilli, Furio
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Massa, Italy, 1866. Pupil of Accademia San
Luca, Rome. Groups of Four Seasons in Court of the Four Seasons.

Polk, Willis
(Architect) San Francisco. Preliminary plans of Exposition.

Putnam, Arthur
(Sculptor) San Francisco. Born in New Orleans, 1874. Mermaid in South
Gardens.

Reid, John, Jr.
(Architect) San Francisco. Born in San Francisco 1880. Studied in the
University of California and the Beaux Arts, Paris. Exposition
Auditorium in Civic Center in collaboration with John Galen Howard and
Frederick Meyer.

Reid, Robert
(Painter) New York. Born in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, 1862. Studied in
Boston, New York, and Paris. Decorations in Rotunda of Fine Arts Palace.

Rosse, Hermann
(Designer and decorator) Palo Alto. Born in The Hague, Holland, 1887.
Studied at The Hague, at Delft, Holland, and South Kensington, London.
Decorative color scheme and mural painting in Netherlands Building.

Roth, Frederick G. R.
(Sculptor) Englewood New Jersey. Born in Brooklyn, New York, 1872.
Studied in Vienna, Nations of the East and Nations of the West in
collaboration with Stirling Calder and Leo Lentelli.

Rumsey, Charles Cary
(Sculptor) New York. Pizarro.

Ryan, Walter. D'Arcy
(Electrical Engineer) San Francisco. Born in Kentville, Nova Scotia,
1870. Educated in Canada. Chief of Illumination. Lighting scheme.

Simmons, Edward
(Mural Painter) New York. Born in Concord, Massachusetts 1852. Studied
in Paris. Murals in Arch of the Rising Sun.

Stackpole, Ralph W.
(Sculptor) San Francisco. Born in Oregon, 1885. Studied in Paris.
Kneeling figure in front of Fine Arts rotunda. Figures on columns
flanking Portal of Thought and Portal of Vigor. Figures in doorway of
Palace of Varied Industries.

Tonetti, F. M. L.
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Paris, France, in 1863. Studied in Paris.
Armored horseman on Tower of Jewels.

Trumbull, Edward
(Painter) Pittsburgh. Born in Stonington, Connecticut, in 1884. Mural
decorations, Penn's Treaty and Pittsburgh Industries, in Pennsylvania
Building.

Ulrich, Louis
(Sculptor) New York. Winged Victory on gables of all palaces.

Walter, Edgar
(Sculptor) San Francisco. Born in San Francisco, in 1877. Studied in
Paris. Fountain of Beauty and the Beast in Court of Flowers.

Weinert, Albert
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Leipzig, Germany, in 1863. Studied in
Leipzig and Brussels. Spandrels in Court of Palms; Decorative finial
figure, in Court of Abundance repeated figure in Portal of Thought, etc.

Weinman, Adolph A.
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Karlsruhe, Germany in 1870. Studied in Art
Students League, New York. Rising and Setting Sun.

Ward and Blohme
(Architects) Clarence R. Ward San Francisco. Born in Niles Michigan, in
1976. Studied in America. J. H. Blohme, San Francisco. Born in San
Francisco in 1878. Studied in America. Machinery Palace.

Whitney, Mrs. Harry Payne
(Sculptor) New York. Fountain of El Dorado

Young, Mahonri
(Sculptor) New York. Born in Salt Lake City Utah, in 1877. Studied in
New York and Paris. Frieze over main portals Manufacturers and Liberal
Arts Palaces.

Zimm, Bruno Louis
(Sculptor) New York. Frieze, Rotunda, Fine Arts Building.



The Art of the Exposition, by Eugen Neuhaus, published by Paul Elder and
Company, San Francisco, was printed at their Tomoye Press, under the
direction of John Swart, in May and reprinted in June and again in
August Nineteen Hundred and Fiftee