Chapter II: Part 2

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.