"There are critics," I remarked, as we walked back to the Court of the
Universe, on the way to the Court of Four Seasons, "who say that the
entrance courts ought to have been placed on the other side that the
Exposition ought to have been turned round."
"They don't understand the conditions that the architects had to meet.
That plan was considered; but when it was pointed out that the strongest
winds here blow from the south and southwest, it was seen that it would
not be feasible. Besides, the present arrangement has the advantage of
leading the people directly to one of the most beautiful bays in the
world. The only bays at all like it that I know anything about are the
Bay of Palermo and the Bay of Naples. The view of the Exposition from
the water is wonderfully fine. It brings out the charm of the straight
lines. All things considered, the architects did an uncommonly fine job
in making the courts run from the Esplanade."
Under the star figures, among the sculptured flowers' surrounding the
head of the sacred bull, birds were nestling. We wondered if those birds
were really fooled by those flowers or whether, in these niches, they
merely found a comfortable place to rest. "There's an intimate relation,
by the way, between birds and architecture. It's said that the first
architectural work done in the world consisted in the making of a bird's
nest. Some critics think that architecture had its start in the making
of a bird's nest. Have you ever watched birds at work on their nests? If
you have, you must know that they go about the job like artists. In our
profession we like to insist, you know, that there's a big difference
between architecture and mere building. In its truest sense architecture
is building with a fine motive. It's the artistic printing press of all
ages, the noblest of the fine arts and the finest of the useful arts. I
know, of course," the architect went on, "that there's another tradition
not quite so flattering. It makes the architect merely the worker in the
rough, with the artistic finish left to the sculptors. But the outline
is nevertheless the architect's, the structure, which is the basis of
beauty. Even now a good many of the great French buildings are roughed
out in this way, and finished by the sculptors and the decorators."
Under the western arch, leading to the inner court that united the Court
of the Universe with the Court of the Four Seasons, we found the two
panels by Frank Vincent Du Mond. Their simple story they told plainly
enough, the departure of the pioneers from the Atlantic border for the
Far West on the Pacific. In the panel to the right we saw the older
generation saying farewell to the younger, and on the other side we saw
the travelers arriving in California and finding a royal welcome from
the Westerners in a scene of typical abundance, even the California bear
showing himself in amiable mood. "That bear bothered Du Mond a good
deal. He wasn't used to painting bears. It isn't nearly as life-like as
those human figures."
What I liked best about the murals was their splendor of coloring, and
their pictorial suggestiveness and vigor of characterization. Perhaps
there was a little too much effort on the part of the painter to suggest
animation. But why, I asked, had Du Mond made most of the faces so
distinctively Jewish?
My question was received with an exclamation of surprise. Yes, the
strong Jewish types of features were certainly repeated again and again.
Perhaps Du Mond happened to use Jewish models. It hardly seemed possible
that the effect could have been intentional.
When I pointed to one of the figures, a youth holding out a long bare
arm, and remarked that I had never seen an arm of such length, my
criticism brought out an unsuspected principle of art. "The Cubists
would say that you were altogether too literal. They are making us all
understand that what art ought to do is to express not what we merely
see with our eyes, but what we feel. If by lengthening that arm, the
painter gets an effect that he wants, he's justified in refusing to be
bound by the mathematical facts of nature. Art is not a matter of strict
calculation, that is, art at its best and its purest. It's a matter of
spiritual perception. All the resources of the artist ought to be bent
toward expressing a spiritual idea and making it alive and beautiful
through outline and color."
"But how about the mixture of allegory and realism that we see in these
murals and in so much of the art here? Don't you find it disturbing?"
"Not at all. There's no reason in the world why the allegorical and the
real should not go together, provided, of course, they don't grossly
conflict and become absurd. What the artist is always working for is the
effect of beauty. If a picture is beautiful, no matter how the beauty is
achieved, it deserves recognition as a work of art. In these murals Du
Mond has tried to reach as closely as he could to nature without being
too literal and without sacrificing artistic effect. He has even
introduced among his figures some well-known Californians, a Bret Harte,
in the gown of the scholar, and William Keith, carrying a portfolio to
suggest his painting."
In that inner court we noticed how cleverly Faville had subordinated the
architecture so that it should modestly connect the great central
courts. McLaren was keeping it glowing on either side with the most
brilliant California flowers. The ornamental columns, the Spanish
doorways, and the great windows of simple and yet graceful design were
all harmonious, and Guerin and Ryan had helped out with the coloring.