The City of Domes Part 6

As we walked toward the main court, the architect called my attention to the view between the columns on the other side of the Tower of Jewels, with the houses of the city running down the hills. "San Francisco architecture may not be beautiful when you study individual houses. But in ma.s.s it is fine. And, of a late afternoon, it is particularly good in coloring. It seems to be enveloped in a rich purple haze. That color might have given the mural decorators a hint. It would have been effective in the midst of all this high-keyed architecture. It's easy here to imagine that you're in one of those ancient Hindu towns where the gates are closed at night. You almost expect to see camels and elephants."

What was most striking in the Court was its immensity. "Though it comes from Bernini's entrance court to St. Peter's in Rome, it is much bigger.

There are those who think it's too big. But it justifies itself by its splendor. The use of the double row of columns is particularly happy.

The double columns were greatly favored by the Romans. In St. Peter's Bernini used four in a row. And what could be finer than those two triumphal arches on either side, the Arch of the Rising Sun and the Arch of the Setting Sun, with their double use of symbolism, in suggesting the close relation between California and the Orient, as well as their geographical meaning? They are, of course, importations from Rome, the Arch of Constantine and the Arch of t.i.tus all over again, with a rather daring use of windows with colored lattices to give them lightness and with colossal groups of almost startling proportions used in place of the Roman chariot or quadriga."

Originally, the intention had been to use here the name of the Court of Sun and Stars. Then it was changed to the Court of Honor, and finally to its present name, to suggest the international character of the Exposition.

Those two groups represented by far the most ambitious work done by the sculpture department. From designs by Calder, they were made by three sculptors, Calder, Roth and Lentelli. They presented problems that must have been both difficult and interesting to work out. First, they had to balance each other. What figure in the Pioneer group could balance the elephant that typified the Orient? Calder had the idea of using the prairie schooner, a.s.sociated with the coming of the pioneers to California, drawn by great oxen.

The Oriental group doubtless shaped itself in picturesque outlines much more quickly than the st.u.r.dy, but more homely Americans of the earlier period. The Orientals displayed an Indian prince on the ornamented seat, and the Spirit of the East in the howdah, of his elephant, an Arab shiek on his Arabian horse, a negro slave bearing fruit on his head, an Egyptian on a camel carrying a Mohammedan standard, an Arab falconer with a bird, a Buddhist priest, or Lama, from Thibet, bearing his symbol of authority, a Mohammedan with his crescent, a second negro slave and a Mongolian on horseback.

The Nations of the West were grouped around that prairie wagon, drawn by two oxen. In the center stood the Mother of Tomorrow a typical American girl, roughly dressed, but with character as well as beauty in her face and figure. On top of the wagon knelt the symbolic figure of "Enterprise," with a white boy on one side and a colored boy on the other, "Heroes of Tomorrow." On the other side of the wagon stood typical figures, the French-Canadian trapper, the Alaska woman, bearing totem poles on her back, the American of Latin descent on his horse, bearing a standard, a German, an Italian, an American of English descent, a squaw with a papoose, and an Indian chief on his pony. The wagon was modelled on top of the arch. It was too large and bulky to be easily raised to that great height.

The architect was impressed by the boldness of the designs and to the spirit that had been put into them. "It's very seldom in the history of art that sculptors have had a chance to do decorative work on so big a scale. It must have been a hard job, getting the figures up there in pieces and putting them together. Some of the workers came near being blown off. Some of them lost their nerve and quit. I wonder, by the way, if that angel on top of the prairie wagon would be there if Saint Gaudens hadn't put an angel in his Sherman statue, and if he hadn't made an angel float over the negro soldiers in his Robert Gould Shaw monument in Boston. He liked that kind of symbolism. He must have got it from the mediaeval sculptors who worked under the inspiration of the Catholic Church."

Varying notes we found around the American group. Cleopatra's needle, used for ornamentation, suggested Egypt and the Nile. That crenellated parapet once belonged to military architecture: between those pieces that stood up, the merlons, in the embrasure, the Greek and Roman archers shot their arrows at the enemy and darted back behind the merlons for protection. In spite of its being purely ornamental it told its story just the same, and it expressed the spirit that still persisted in mankind. Nowadays it was even used on churches. But religion and war had always been a.s.sociated. Besides, in an International Exposition it was to be expected that the art should be international. How many people, when they looked at Cleopatra's needle, knew how closely it was related to the newspapers and historical records of today? The Egyptians used to write on these monuments news and opinions of public affairs. The Romans had a similar custom in connection with their columns. On the column of Trajan they not only wrote of their victories, but they pictured victorious scenes in stone.

The little sprite that ran along the upper edge of the court in a row, the star-figure, impressed me as making an unfortunate contrast with the stern angel, repeated in front of each of the two arches. My criticism brought out the reply that it was beautiful in itself and had its place up there. "These accidental effects of a.s.sociation are sometimes good and sometimes they're not. Here I can't see that they make a jarring effect. In the first place, a Court of the Universe ought to express something of the incongruity in our life. Ideally, of course, it isn't good in art to represent a figure in a position that it's hard to maintain without discomfort. But here the outlines are purely decorative and don't suggest strain. In my judgment that figure is one of the greatest ornaments in the court. It gives just the right note."

The two fountains in the center of the sunken garden were gaily throwing their spray into the air. The boldness of the Tritons at the base represented a very different kind of handling from the delicacy of the figure at the top of each, the Evening Sun and the Rising Sun, both executed with poetic feeling. In the Rising Sun, Weinmann had succeeded in putting into the figure of the youth life, motion and joy. Looking at that figure, just ready to spread its wings, one felt as if it were really about to sweep into the air. Though the Evening Sun might be less dramatic, it was just as fine. "It isn't often that you see sculpture of such imaginative quality," said the architect.

Those great symbolic figures by Robert Aitken, at once giving a reminder of Michael Angelo, impressed me as being perfectly adapted to the Court, and to their subjects, Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. But my companion thought they were too big. He agreed, however, that they were both original and strong. There was cleverness in making the salamander, with his fiery breath and his sting, ready to attack a Greek warrior, symbolize fire. Under the winged girl representing air there was a humorous reference to man's early efforts to fly in the use of the quaint little figure of Icarus. Water and earth were more conventional, but worked out with splendid vigor, the two figures under earth suggesting the compet.i.tive struggle of men. "I remember Aitken in his beginning here in San Francisco. Though he often did poor stuff, everything of his showed artistic courage and initiative. Even then anyone could see there was something in him. Now it's coming out in the work he has contributed to this Exposition. The qualities in these four statues we shall see again when we reach the fountain that Aitken made for the Court of Abundance. They are individual without being eccentric.

Compare these four figures with the groups in front of the two arches, by Paul Manship, another American sculptor of ability, but different from Aitken in his devotion to the early Greek. When Manship began his work a few years ago he was influenced by Rodin. Then he went to Rome and became charmed with the antique. Now he follows the antique method altogether. He deliberately conventionalizes. And yet his work is not at all conventional. He manages to put distinct life into it. These two groups, the 'Dancing Girls' and 'Music,' would have delighted the sculptors of the cla.s.sic period."

Under the Arch of the Rising Sun two delicate murals by Edward Simmons charmed us by their grace, their lovely coloring, by the richness of their fancy and by the extraordinary fineness of their workmanship.

"There's a big difference of opinion about those canvases as murals. But there's no difference of opinion in regard to their artistic merit. They are unquestionably masterpieces. Kelham and Guerin, who had a good deal to do with putting them up there, believe they are in exactly the right place. But a good many others think they are almost lost in all this heavy architecture. You see, Simmons didn't take Guerin's advice as to a subject. Each of his two murals has a meaning, or rather a good many meanings, but no central theme, no story that binds the figures into a distinct unity. So, from the point of view of the public, they are somewhat puzzling. People look up there and wonder what those figures are doing. But to the artist they find their justification merely in being what they are, beautiful in outline and in posture and coloring.

You don't often get such atmosphere in mural work, or such subtlety and richness of feeling."

Both murals unmistakably showed the same hand. "There's not another man in the country who could do work of just that kind. That group in the center of the mural to the north could be cut out and made into a picture just as it stands. It doesn't help much to know that the middle figure, with the upraised arm, is Inspiration with Commerce at her right and Truth at her left. They might express almost any symbols that were related to beauty. And the symbolism of the groups at either end seems rather gratuitous. They might be many other things besides true hope and false hope and abundance standing beside the family. But the girl chasing the bubble blown out by false hope makes a quaint conceit to express adventure, though perhaps only one out of a million would see the point if it weren't explained."

The opposite mural we found a little more definite in its symbolism, if not so pictorial or charming. The figures consisted of the imaginary type of the figure from the lost Atlantis; the Roman fighter; the Spanish adventurer, suggesting Columbus; the English type of sea-faring explorer, Sir Walter Raleigh; the priest who followed in the wake of the discoverer, the bearer of the cross to the new land; the artist, spreading civilization, and the laborer, modern in type, universal in significance, interesting here as standing for the industrial enterprise of today.

"Those murals suggest what a big chance our decorators have in the themes that come out of our industrial life. They've only made a start.

As mural decoration advances in this country, we ought to produce men able to deal in a vigorous and imaginative way with the big spiritual and economic conceptions that are a.s.sociated with our new ideals of industry."

One feature of this court made a special appeal to the architect, the use of the large green vases under the arches. "They're so good they're likely to be overlooked. They blend perfectly in the general scheme.

Their coloring could not have been better chosen and their design is particularly happy."

VI

On the Marina

Along one of the corridors we pa.s.sed, enjoying the richness of the coloring and the beauty of the great lamps in a long row, then out into the wide entrance of the court to the Column of Progress.

"I wonder if that column would be there now," said the architect, "if Trajan had not built his column in Rome nearly two thousand years ago.

The Christianizing of the column, by placing St. Peter on top instead of Trajan, is symbolic of a good deal that has gone on here. But we owe a big debt to the pagans, much more than we acknowledge."

When I expressed enthusiasm over the column the architect ran his eye past the frieze to the top. "In the first place, that dominating group up there ought at once to express the character of the column. But it doesn't. You have to look twice and you have to look hard. One figure would have been more effective. But there is a prejudice among some sculptors against placing a single figure at the head of a column, though the Romans often did it. But if a group had to be used it could have been made much clearer. Now in that design MacNeil celebrated the Adventurous Archer in a way that was distinctly old-fashioned. He made the archer a superman, pushing his way forward by force, and by the dominance of personality. And see how comparatively insignificant he made the supporting figures. The relation of those three people implies an acceptation of the old ideals of the social organization. MacNeil had a chance here to express the new spirit of today, the spirit that honors the common man and that makes an ideal of social co-operation on terms of equality."

At the base we studied the figures celebrating labor. "Konti is a man of broad social understanding and sympathy," said my companion. "But picturesque as those figures are, they're not much more. They give no intimation of the mighty stirring among the laborers of the world, a theme that might well inspire the sculpture of today, one of the greatest of all human themes."

From the Column of Progress the Marina drew us over to the seawall. "The builders were wise to leave this s.p.a.ce open and to keep it simple. It's as if they said: 'Ladies and gentlemen, we have done our best. But here's Mother Nature. She can do better.' "

To our right stood Alcatraz, shaped like a battleship, with the Berkeley hills in the distant background. To the left rose Tamalpais in a majestic peak.

When I mentioned that there ought to be more boats out there on the bay, a whole fleet, and some of them with colored sails, to give more brightness, the architect shook his head.

"The scene is typically Californian. It suggests great stretches of vacant country here in this State, waiting for the people to come from the overcrowded East and Middle West and thrive on the land."

Our point of view on the Esplanade enabled us to take in the sweep of the northern wall, with its straight horizontal lines, broken by the entrances to the courts and by the splendidly ornate doors in duplicate.

Of the design above the doorway the architect said: "It's a perfect example of the silver-platter style of Spain, generally called 'plateresque,' adapted to the Exposition. Allen Newman's figure of the Conquistador is full of spirit, and the bow-legged pirate is a triumph of humorous characterization. Can't you see him walking the deck, with the rope in his hand? It isn't so many generations since he used to infest the Pacific. By the way, that rope, which the sculptor has made so realistic and picturesque at the same time, reminds me that a good many people are bothered because the bow up here, on the Column of Progress, has no string. The artistic folk, of course, think that the string ought to be left to the imagination."

In the distance, to the west, we commented on the n.o.ble outlines of the California Building, an idealized type of Mission architecture, a little too severe, perhaps, lacking in variety and warmth, but of an impressive dignity. The old friars, for all their asceticism, liked gaiety and color in their building.

As we were about to start back to the Court of the Universe the architect reminded me of the two magnificent towers, dedicated to Balboa and Columbus, that had been planned for the approach to the Court of Four Seasons and the Court of Ages from the bay side, but had been omitted to save expense. They would have given the Marina a far greater splendor; but they would have detracted from its present simplicity.

VII

Toward the Court of Four Seasons

"There are critics," I remarked, as we walked back to the Court of the Universe, on the way to the Court of Four Seasons, "who say that the entrance courts ought to have been placed on the other side that the Exposition ought to have been turned round."

"They don't understand the conditions that the architects had to meet.

That plan was considered; but when it was pointed out that the strongest winds here blow from the south and southwest, it was seen that it would not be feasible. Besides, the present arrangement has the advantage of leading the people directly to one of the most beautiful bays in the world. The only bays at all like it that I know anything about are the Bay of Palermo and the Bay of Naples. The view of the Exposition from the water is wonderfully fine. It brings out the charm of the straight lines. All things considered, the architects did an uncommonly fine job in making the courts run from the Esplanade."

Under the star figures, among the sculptured flowers' surrounding the head of the sacred bull, birds were nestling. We wondered if those birds were really fooled by those flowers or whether, in these niches, they merely found a comfortable place to rest. "There's an intimate relation, by the way, between birds and architecture. It's said that the first architectural work done in the world consisted in the making of a bird's nest. Some critics think that architecture had its start in the making of a bird's nest. Have you ever watched birds at work on their nests? If you have, you must know that they go about the job like artists. In our profession we like to insist, you know, that there's a big difference between architecture and mere building. In its truest sense architecture is building with a fine motive. It's the artistic printing press of all ages, the n.o.blest of the fine arts and the finest of the useful arts. I know, of course," the architect went on, "that there's another tradition not quite so flattering. It makes the architect merely the worker in the rough, with the artistic finish left to the sculptors. But the outline is nevertheless the architect's, the structure, which is the basis of beauty. Even now a good many of the great French buildings are roughed out in this way, and finished by the sculptors and the decorators."

Under the western arch, leading to the inner court that united the Court of the Universe with the Court of the Four Seasons, we found the two panels by Frank Vincent Du Mond. Their simple story they told plainly enough, the departure of the pioneers from the Atlantic border for the Far West on the Pacific. In the panel to the right we saw the older generation saying farewell to the younger, and on the other side we saw the travelers arriving in California and finding a royal welcome from the Westerners in a scene of typical abundance, even the California bear showing himself in amiable mood. "That bear bothered Du Mond a good deal. He wasn't used to painting bears. It isn't nearly as life-like as those human figures."

What I liked best about the murals was their splendor of coloring, and their pictorial suggestiveness and vigor of characterization. Perhaps there was a little too much effort on the part of the painter to suggest animation. But why, I asked, had Du Mond made most of the faces so distinctively Jewish?

My question was received with an exclamation of surprise. Yes, the strong Jewish types of features were certainly repeated again and again.

Perhaps Du Mond happened to use Jewish models. It hardly seemed possible that the effect could have been intentional.

When I pointed to one of the figures, a youth holding out a long bare arm, and remarked that I had never seen an arm of such length, my criticism brought out an unsuspected principle of art. "The Cubists would say that you were altogether too literal. They are making us all understand that what art ought to do is to express not what we merely see with our eyes, but what we feel. If by lengthening that arm, the painter gets an effect that he wants, he's justified in refusing to be bound by the mathematical facts of nature. Art is not a matter of strict calculation, that is, art at its best and its purest. It's a matter of spiritual perception. All the resources of the artist ought to be bent toward expressing a spiritual idea and making it alive and beautiful through outline and color."

"But how about the mixture of allegory and realism that we see in these murals and in so much of the art here? Don't you find it disturbing?"

"Not at all. There's no reason in the world why the allegorical and the real should not go together, provided, of course, they don't grossly conflict and become absurd. What the artist is always working for is the effect of beauty. If a picture is beautiful, no matter how the beauty is achieved, it deserves recognition as a work of art. In these murals Du Mond has tried to reach as closely as he could to nature without being too literal and without sacrificing artistic effect. He has even introduced among his figures some well-known Californians, a Bret Harte, in the gown of the scholar, and William Keith, carrying a portfolio to suggest his painting."

In that inner court we noticed how cleverly Faville had subordinated the architecture so that it should modestly connect the great central courts. McLaren was keeping it glowing on either side with the most brilliant California flowers. The ornamental columns, the Spanish doorways, and the great windows of simple and yet graceful design were all harmonious, and Guerin and Ryan had helped out with the coloring.