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The Art of the Exposition

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The Art of the Exposition

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



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



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



Publisher's Announcement

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

San Francisco, California May 1, 1915



Contents



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

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

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

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

The Illumination - Conclusion
The Exposition at night.

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



List of Illustrations



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



The Art of the Exposition



The Architecture



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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