The City of Domes Part 7

VIII

The Court of the Four Seasons

As we entered the Court of the Four Seasons the architect said: "If I were to send a student of architecture to this Exposition, I should advise him to spend most of his time here. Of all the courts, it expresses for me the best architectural traditions. Henry Bacon frankly took Hadrian's Villa for his model, and he succeeded in keeping every feature cla.s.sic. That half dome is an excellent example of a style cultivated by the Romans. The four niches with the groups of the seasons, by Piccirilli, screened behind the double columns, come from a detail in the baths of Caracalla. The Romans liked to glimpse scenes or statuary through columns. Guerin has applied a rich coloring, his favorite pink, and McLaren has added a poetic touch by letting garlands of the African dew plant, that he made his hedge of, flow over from the top. See how Bacon has used the bull's head between the flowers in the ornamentation, one of the most popular of the Renaissance motives. And he has introduced an original detail by letting ears of corn hang from the top of the columns. Those bulls up there, with the two figures, carry the mind back to the days when the Romans made a sacrifice of the sacred bull in the harvest festivals. This Thanksgiving of theirs they called 'The Feast of the Sacrifice.' "

Crowning the half dome sat the lovely figure of Nature, laden with fruits, by Albert Jaegers. On the columns at either side stood two other figures by Jaegers, "Rain," holding out a sh.e.l.l to catch the drops, and "Suns.h.i.+ne," with a palm branch close to her eyes. At each base the figures of the harvesters carried out the agricultural idea with elemental simplicity in friezes that recalled the friezes on the Parthenon. Here, on each side of the half-dome, we have a good example of the composite column, a combination of the Corinthian and the Ionic, with the Ionic scrolls and the acanthus underneath, and with little human figures between the two.

What we liked best about this court was its feeling of intimacy. One could find refreshment here and rest. Much was due to the graceful planting by John McLaren. His ma.s.ses of deep green around the emerald pool in the center were particularly successful. He had used many kinds of trees, including the olive, the acacia, the eucalyptus, the cypress, and the English laurel.

We lingered in front of these fountains, admiring the cla.s.sic grace of the groups and the play of water over the steps. We thought that Piccirilli had been most successful with his "Spring." "Of course, it's very conventional work," said the architect, "but the conventional has its place here. It explains just why Milton Bancroft worked out those murals of his in this particular way. He wanted to express the elemental att.i.tude of mind toward nature, the artistic childhood of the race."

When we examined the figures of the Piccirilli groups in detail, we found that they possessed excellent qualities. They carried on the traditions of the wall-fountains so popular in Rome and often a.s.sociated with water running over steps. The figures were well put together and the lines were good. All of the groups had the surface as carefully worked out. In "Spring" the line of festooning helped to carry on the line leading to the top of the group. There was tender feeling and fine workmans.h.i.+p in "Summer," with the feminine and masculine hands clearly differentiated. "The men of today have a chance to learn a good lesson from Rodin," said the painter. "He is teaching them what he himself may have learned from the work of Donatello and Michael Angelo, the importance of surface accentuation, the securing of the light and shade that are just as necessary in modelling as in painting. In these groups there is definite accentuation of the muscles. It makes the figures seem life-like. The work reminds me of the figure of The Outcast, by the sculpter's brother, Attilio Piccirilli, that we shall see in the colonade of the Fine Arts Palace. So many sculptors like to secure these smooth, meaningless surfaces that excite admiration among those people who care for mere prettiness. It is just about as admirable as the smoothing out of character lines from a photograph. But the Piccirillis go at their work like genuine artists."

Those murals we were inclined to regard as somewhat too simple and formal. "After all," said the architect, "it's a question whether this kind of effort is in the right direction. So often it leads to what seems like acting in art, regarded by some people as insincerity. At any rate, the best that can be said of it is that it's clever imitation. But here it blends in with the feeling of the court and it gives bright spots of color. Guerin has gone as close to white as he dared. So he felt the need of strong color contrasts, and he got Bancroft to supply them. And the colors are repeated in the the other decorations of the court. It's as if the painter had been given a definite number of colors to work with. In this matter of color, by the way, Bancroft had a big advantage over the old Roman painters. Their colors were very restricted. In this court they might have allowed more s.p.a.ce for the murals. They're not only limited in size, but in shape as well. Bancroft used to call them his postage-stamps.

In the entrance court we found Evelyn Breatrice Longman's "Fountain of Ceres," the last of the three fountains done on the grounds by women, and decidedly the most feminine. "Mrs. Longman hasn't quite caught the true note," the architect remarked. "The base of the fountain is interesting, though I don't care for the shape. But the figure itself is too prim and modish. Somehow I can't think of Ceres as a proper old maid, dressed with modern frills. The execution, however, shows a good deal of skill. The frieze might be improved by the softening of those sharp lines that cut out the figures like pasteboard. And these women haven't as much vitality as that grotesque head down near the base, spouting out water." The architect glanced up and noticed the figure of "Victory" on one of the gables, so often to be seen during a walk over the grounds. "There's more swing to that figure than to the one here, and yet there's a certain resemblance between them. They both show the same influence, the Winged Victory of Samothrace. Of course, Miss Longman has purposely softened the effect on account of the mildness of her subject. But she might have been more successful with her draperies if she had followed the suggestions in the Winged Victory more closely.

There the treatment of the draperies is magnificent. Both the Greeks and the Romans were very fond of this type of figure. And it's often found among the ruins of Pompeii, which kept so close to Rome in its artistic enterprise."

The need of separating the entrance to the Court of the Four Seasons from Ryan's display of scintillators on the imitation of Morro Castle at the edge of the bay, had given John McLaren a chance to create another of these deep green ma.s.ses that surrounded the pool. It shut the court off from the rest of the world and deepened the intimacy, leaving, however, glimpses of the bay and the hills beyond.

IX

The Palace of Fine Arts From Across the Lagoon

In returning to the Court of the Four Seasons, we started along another of those inner courts, made charming by those Spanish doorways and by the twisted columns, a favorite of the Romans, evidently borrowed from the Orientals. "All through the Exposition," the architect remarked, "we are reminded of the Oriental fondness for the serpent. Some people like to say that it betrays the subtlety and slyness of the Oriental people.

But they admired the serpent chiefly because, in their minds, it represented wisdom, the quiet and easy way of doing things, a little roundabout perhaps, but often better than the method of opposition and attack."

Before us, looking down as if from an eminence, stood, the Palace of Fine Arts. The architect reminded me of the clever planning that had placed this magnificent conception in so commanding a position, looking down into the courts, on what he called "the main axis."

"It's the vision of a painter who is also a poet, worked out in terms of architecture. Maybeck planned it all, even to the details. He wanted to suggest a splendid ruin, suddenly come upon by travelers, after a long journey in a desert. He has invested the whole place with an atmosphere of tragedy. It's Roman in feeling and Greek in the refinement of its ornamentation. That rotunda reminds one of the Pantheon in Rome. Those Corinthian columns, with the melancholy drooping of the acanthus and the fretwork and the frieze, by Zimm, are suggestive of Greece. Maybeck says that his mind was started on the conception, 'The Island of Death,' by Boecklin, the painting that the German people know so well as the 'Todteninsel,' and by 'The Chariot Race,' of Gerome."

The architect went on to say that the resemblance was remote and chiefly interesting as showing how a great artist could carry a suggestion into an entirely new realm. The Boecklin painting merely suggested the general scope of the work, and the chariot race gave the hint for that colonnade, which Maybeck had made so original and graceful by the use of the urns on top of groups of columns with the figure of a woman at each corner. He had used that somewhat eccentric scheme on account of its pictorial charm. All through the construction Maybeck had defied the architectural conventions; but he had been justified by his success.

My attention was directed to a group of columns at the end of the colonnade. "There's just a hint of the Roman Forum over there. Perhaps it's accidental. Perhaps it's developed from a picture way down in Maybeck's consciousness. However, the idea of putting two columns together in just that way comes from the French Renaissance. The great French architect, Perrault, used it in the Louvre. In the compet.i.tion he won out over Bernini, who is living again in the Court of the Universe.

It gives great architectural richness."

People had wondered what McLaren had meant to indicate by the high hedges he had made over there with his dew plant. He had merely carried out the designs put into his hands. Maybeck had intended the hedge to be used as a background for willow trees that were to run up as high as the frieze, in this way gaining depth. Through those trees the rotunda was to be glimpsed. Willow trees, with overhanging boughs, were also to be planted along the edge of the lagoon, the water running under the leaves and disappearing.

In the lagoon swans were swimming and arching their long necks. "The old Greeks and Romans would have loved this scene, though they would, of course, have found alien influences here," said the architect. "They would have enjoyed the sequestration of the Palace, its being set apart, giving the impression of loneliness. The architects were shrewd in making the approach long and circuitous."

"They might have done more with the water that was here before they filled in," I said. "It offered fine chances."

"Yes, and they thought of them and some ambitious plans were discussed.

But the expense was found to be prohibitive."

At that moment a guard, in his yellow uniform with bra.s.s b.u.t.tons, came forward with a questioning lady at his side. They stood so close to us that we could not help hearing their talk.

"What are those women doing up there?"

The guard looked at the urns, surmounting the columns. "They're supposed to be crying," he said.

"What are they crying about?"

The guard looked a little embarra.s.sed. "They are crying over the sadness of art," he said. Then he added somewhat apologetically, "Anyway, that's what the lecturer told us to say."

The lady appealed to us for information. "What this gentleman says is true," remarked the authority at my side. "The architect intended that those figures should express something of the sadness of life as reflected in art."

"Oh," said the lady, as if she only half understood.

Then she and the guard drifted away.

"Those people have unconsciously given us a bit of art criticism, haven't they? One of the most pictorial notes in this composition of Maybeck's is the use of these figures. But it's also eccentric and it puzzles the average looker-on who is always searching after meanings, according to the literary habit of the day, the result of universal reading. Perhaps the effect would have been, less bewildering if those urns were filled with flowers as Maybeck intended they should be. Then the women would have seemed to be bending over the flowers. The little doors were put into the urns so that the man in charge of the flowers could reach up to them. But this item of expense was included among the sacrifices."

The coloring of the columns had been a subject of some criticism. The ochre columns were generally admired; but the green columns were considered too atmospheric to give the sense of support. And that imitation of green marble directly under the Pegasus frieze of Zimm's, near the top, had been found to bear a certain resemblance to linoleum.

But in applying, the colors Guerin had worked with deliberate purpose.

The green under the frieze was really a good imitation of marble, and the shade used on the column suggested the weather-beaten effect a.s.sociated with age.

"There are columns that, in my opinion, have more beauty than those Maybeck used. But that's a matter of taste. In themselves those columns are fine and they blend into impressive ma.s.ses. That altar under the dome, with the kneeling figure, only a great artist could have conceived in just that way. Ralph Stackpole, the sculptor of the figure, worked it out in perfect harmony with Maybeck's idea. To appreciate his skill one ought to get close and see how roughly it has been modeled in order that the lines should be clear and yet give an effect of delicacy across the lagoon. And those trees along the edge of the lagoon, how gracefully they are planted, in the true Greek spirit. The lines in front of the rotunda are all good, as they run down to the water's edge. And how richly McLaren has planted the lagoon. He has given just the luxuriance that Maybeck wanted."

The Western Wall

We turned to get the effect of the western wall looking out on this magnificence. "Faville has done some of his finest work there. All over the Exposition he has expressed himself; but as his name is not connected with one of the great courts we don't hear it very much. When he tackled the Western Wall he had one of the hardest of his problems.

There was a big expanse to be made interesting and impressive, without the aid of towers or courts. It was a brilliant idea to break the monotony with those two splendid Roman half-domes."

The figure of "Thought" on the columns in front of the Dome of Plenty and repeated on the Dome of Philosophy started the architect talking on the subject of character and art. "Only a sculptor with a very fine nature could have done that fellow up there. In that design Stackpole shows the qualities that he shows in the kneeling girl at the altar in the rotunda across the lagoon and in his figure of the common laborer and the little group of artisans and artists that we shall see on the doorway of the Varied Industries. They include fineness and cleanness of feeling, reverence and tenderness. This particular figure is one of three figures on the grounds that stand for virtually the same subject, Rodin's "Thinker," in the courtyard of the French Building, and Chester Beach's "Thinker," in the niches to the west and east of the tower in the Court of the Ages. They are all different in character. Stackpole's gives the feeling of gentle contemplation. That man might be a poet or a philosopher or an inventor; but a man of the kind of thought that leads to action or great achievement in the world - never. You can't think of him as competing with his whole heart and soul in order to get ahead of other men. However, it would be an achievement just to be that type and it's a good type to be held up to us for our admiration, better than the conventional ideal of success embodied in the Adventurous Bowman, for example."

The proportions of the domes we could see at a glance had been well worked out. Earl c.u.mmings' figure of the Youth had a really youthful quality; but there was some question in our minds as to the wisdom of repeating the figure in a semi-circle. "After all," the architect remarked, "in this country art owes some concession to habit of mind. We are not trained to frankness in regard to nudity. On the contrary, all our conventions are against it. But our artists, through their special professional training, learn to despise many of our conventions and they like to ignore them or frankly show their contempt for them."

That elaborate Sienna fountain was well adapted to the Dome of Plenty, though it was by no means a fine example of Italian work, with its design built up tier on tier. "It's the natural expression of a single idea that leads to beauty, isn't it? The instant there's a betrayal of effort, the charm begins to fade."

There was no criticism to be made, however, of the Italian fountain in the Dome of Philosophy, the simplest of all the fountains, and one of the most beautiful, the water flowing over the circular bowl from all sides. "It makes water the chief feature," said the architect approvingly, "which is the best any fountain can do. Is there anything in art that can compare for beauty with running water? This fountain comes from Italy and these female figures, above the doorway, with books in their arms, are by one of the most interesting of the sculptors represented here, Albert Weinert. We'll see more work of his when we get to the Court of Abundance."

At sight of the curious groups in the niches I expressed a certain disappointment. It seemed to me that, in the midst of so much real beauty, they were out of key. But the architect had another point of view. "They are worth while because they're different," he said. "They ought not to be considered merely as ornaments. They have an archaeological interest. They are related to those interesting studies that Albert Durer used to make, and they are full of symbolism. When Charles Harley made them he knew just what he was doing. The male figure in 'The Triumph of the Fields' takes us back to the time when harvesting was a.s.sociated with pagan rites. The Celtic cross and the standard with the bull on top used to be carried through the field in harvest time.

The bull celebrates the animal that has aided man in gathering the crops. The wain represents the old harvest wagon. That head down there typifies the seed of the earth, symbol of the life that comes up in the barley that is indicated there, bringing food to mankind. The woman's figure, unfortunately, is too small for the niche, 'Abundance.' The horn of plenty on either side indicates her character. She's reaching out her hands to suggest her prodigality. The head of the eagle on the prow of the s.h.i.+p where she is sitting, gives the idea an American application, suggesting our natural prosperity and our reason for keeping ahead in the march of progress. In one sense, those figures represent a reactionary kind of sculpture. Nowadays the sculptors, like the painters, are trying to get away from literal interpretations. They don't want to appeal to the mind so much as to the emotions."