Through the arch on the east the Court of the Universe opens

Produced by David Schwan

Panama-Pacific International Exposition

The Jewel City:

Its Planning and Achievement; Its Architecture, Sculpture, Symbolism,

and Music; Its Gardens, Palaces, and Exhibits

By

Ben Macomber

With Colored Frontispiece and more than Seventy-Five Other Illustrations

Introduction

No more accurate account of the Panama-Pacific International Exposition

has been given than one that was forced from the lips of a charming

Eastern woman of culture. Walking one evening in the Fine Arts

colonnade, while the illumination from distant searchlights accented the

glory of Maybeck's masterpiece, and lit up the half-domes and arches

across the lagoon, she exclaimed to her companion: "Why, all the beauty

of the world has been sifted, and the finest of it assembled here!"

This simple phrase, the involuntary outburst of a traveled visitor, will

be echoed by thousands who feel the magic of what the master artists and

architects of America have done here in celebration of the Panama Canal.

I put the "artists" first, because this Exposition has set a new

standard. Among all the great international expositions previously held

in the United States, as well as those abroad, it had been the fashion

for managers to order a manufactures building from one architect, a

machinery hall from another, a fine arts gallery from a third. These

worked almost independently. Their structures, separately, were often

beautiful; together, they seldom indicated any kinship or common

purpose. When the buildings were completed, the artists were called in

to soften their disharmonies with such sculptural and horticultural

decoration as might be possible.

The Exposition in San Francisco is the first, though it will not be the

last, to subject its architecture to a definite artistic motive. How

this came about it is the object of the present book to tell,--how the

Exposition was planned as an appropriate expression of America's joy in

the completion of the Canal, and how its structures, commemorating the

peaceful meeting of the nations through that great waterway, have fitly

been made to represent the art of the entire world, yet with such unity

and originality as to give new interest to the ancient forms, and with

such a wealth of appropriate symbolism in color, sculpture and mural

painting as to make its great courts, towers and arches an inspiring

story of Nature's beneficence and Man's progress.

Much of Mr. Macomber's text was written originally for The San Francisco

Chronicle, to which acknowledgment is made for its permission to reprint

his papers. The popularity of these articles, which have been running

since February, has testified to their usefulness. In many cases they

have been preserved and passed from hand to hand. They have also won the

endorsement of liberal use in other publications. It is proper to say,

however, that similarity of language sometimes indicates a common

following of the artists' own explanations of their work, made public by

the Exposition management.

Mr. Macomber has revised and amplified his chapters hitherto published,

and has added others briefly outlining the history of the Exposition,

and dealing with the fine-arts, industrial, and livestock exhibits, the

foreign and state buildings, music, sports, aviation, and the amusement

section. Apart from the smaller guides, the book is thus the first to

attempt any comprehensive description of the Exposition. Without

indiscriminate praise, or sacrificing independent judgment, the author's

purpose has been to interpret and explain the many things about which

the visitors on the ground and readers at home may naturally wish to

know, rather than to point out minor defects.

For the general exhibit palaces, anything more than a brief outline of

their contents would fill several books. But the chapter entitled "The

Palace of Fine Arts and its Exhibit, with the Awards," supplies such an

account of the plan of the galleries and of the important works therein

as will furnish a clear and helpful guide to this great collection. The

awards of the Fine Arts juries, just announced, have been incorporated

in the account, while a full list of the grand prizes, medals of honor

and gold medals also follows the chapter. With the artists thus named

are noted the rooms where the works of each may be found. The Appendix

offers a practical aid to the study of the "Exposition Art" in the list

there given of the mural paintings and sculptures which form the notable

decorations of palaces and gardens. With these are cross-references to

the pages in the text where they are described.

In selecting the photographs here reproduced, the aim has been not so

much to show exhibits as to illustrate the plan, architecture and

decorative art of the Exposition, and to indicate the advance which it

scores over its predecessors. The pictures, with their full

"underlines," will aid those who have not yet visited the Exposition to

apprehend its spirit and much of its unprecedented beauty.

Cross-references from text to illustrations increase their helpfulness.

But even these abundant illustration can do little more than suggest how

far the artistic achievement is the finest yet seen in America. No book

can adequately represent this World's Fair. Its spell is the charm of

color and the grandeur of noble proportion, harmonizing great

architectural units; its lesson is the compelling value, demonstrated on

a vast scale, of exquisite taste. It must be seen to be understood.

John H. Williams.

San Francisco, July 15, 1915.

Contents

I. Motive and Planning of the Exposition

II. Ground Plan and Landscape Gardening

III. The South Gardens

IV. "The Walled City": Its Great Palaces and their Architecture,

Color and Material

V. The Tower of Jewels

VI. The Court of the Universe

VII. The Court of the Ages

VIII. The Court of the Seasons

IX. Courts of Flowers and Palms

X. The Fountains

XI. The Palace of Machinery

XII. The Palace of Fine Arts and its Exhibit, with the Awards

XIII. The Exposition Illuminated

XIV. Music at the Exposition

XV. Inside the Exhibit Palaces

XVI. The Foreign Pavilions

XVII. The State Buildings

XVIII. The Live-Stock Exhibit

XIX. Sports and Games; Automobile Races; Aviation

XX. The Joy Zone

Appendix: Lists of Sculptures, Mural Paintings, and Artists. Roster of

the Exposition. Index.

Illustrations

Unless otherwise noted, these are from photographs by the official

photographers, the Cardinell-Vincent Company.

Roman Arch of the Setting Sun, Color Plate from Photo by Gabriel Moulin

Ground Plan of the Palace of Fine Arts

Aeroplane View of the Exposition, Photo copyrighted by Gabriel Moulin

Avenue of Palms

The South Gardens

The Palace of Horticulture

Festival Hall--George H. Kahn

Map of the Panama-Pacific International Exposition

"Listening Woman" and "Young Girl," Festival Hall

South Portal, Palace of Varied Industries--J. L. Padilla

Palace of Liberal Arts

Sixteenth-Century Spanish Portal, North Facade

"The Pirate," North Portal

"The Priest," Tower of Jewels

The Tower of Jewels and Fountain of Energy

"Cortez"--J. L. Padilla

Under the Arch, Tower of Jewels

Fountain of El Dorado

Column of Progress--Pacific Photo and Art Co.

"The Adventurous Bowman"

Arch of the Setting Sun--J. L. Padilla

Frieze at Base of the Column of Progress (2)

The Court of the Universe and Arch of the Rising Sun

"Earth" and "Fire" (2)

"The Rising Sun" and "The Setting Sun" (2)

Tower of the Ages--J. L. Padilla

Fountain of the Earth--J. L. Padilla

"Air," one of Brangwyn's Murals

The Court of Seasons

Arch in the Court of Seasons--George H. Kahn

Court of Flowers, Detail--Pacific Photo and Art Co.

"The End of the Trail"--J. L. Padilla

"The Pioneer"

The Court of Palms.

Portal between the Courts of Palms and Seasons--Pacific Photo and Art Co.

Fountain of Summer--J. L. Padilla

The Mermaid Fountain

Fountain of "Beauty and the Beast"

The Palace of Machinery

Palace of Machinery, Interior

Vestibule, Palace of Machinery--Gabriel Moulin

Palace of Fine Arts

Open Corridor, Palace of Fine Arts

Detail of Rotunda, Palace of Fine Arts

Colonnade, Fine Arts, and Half-Dome, Food Products Palace

--J. L. Padilla

"The Mother of the Dead"

"High Tide; the Return of the Fishermen"--Gabriel Moulin

"Among the White Birch Trunks"--Gabriel Moulin

Tower of Jewels at Night--J. L. Padilla

"The Outcast"

"Muse Finding the Head of Orpheus"

Palace of Fine Arts at Night--Paul Elder Co.

Tympanum, Palace of Varied Industries

Tympanum, Palace of Education

"The Genius of Creation"

Pavilions of Australia and Canada (2),--H. W. Mossby, J. L. Padilla

Pavilions of France and the Netherlands (2)

Rodin's "The Thinker"--Friedrich Woiter

A Court in the Italian Pavilion

The Pavilion of Sweden

Pavilions of Argentina and Japan (2)

The New York State Building--Pacific Photo and Art Co.

California Building

Illinois and Missouri (2)

Massachusetts and Pennsylvania (2)

Inside the California Building

Oregon and Washington (2)

Aeroplane Flight at Night

The Jewel City

I.

Motive and Planning of the Exposition

The Panama Canal a landmark in human progress--Its influence through

changes in trade routes San Francisco determines, in spite of the great

fire, to celebrate its completion--Millions pledged in two hours--

Congressional approval won--The Exposition built by California and San

Francisco, without National aid--Only two years given to construction--

Fifty millions expended.

Human endeavor has supplied no nobler motive for public rejoicing than

the union of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. The Panama Canal has

stirred and enlarged the imaginations of men as no other task has done,

however enormous the conception, however huge the work. The Canal is one

of the few achievements which may properly be called epoch-making. Its

building is of such signal and far reaching importance that it marks a

point in history from which succeeding years and later progress will be

counted. It is so variously significant that the future alone can

determine the ways in which it will touch and modify the life of

mankind.

First of all, of course, its intent is commercial. Experts have already

estimated its influence on the traffic routes. But these experts, who

can, from known present conditions, work out the changes that will take

place, that are already taking place, in the flow of commerce on the

seven seas, cannot estimate the effect those changes will have on the

life of the people who inhabit their shores. Changes in trade routes

have overwhelmed empires and raised up new nations, have nourished

civilizations and brought others to decay. From the days when merchants

first followed the caravan routes, nothing has so modified the history

of nations as the course of the roads by which commerce moved. Huge as

was the Canal as a physical undertaking alone, it is not less stupendous

in the vision of the effects which will flow from it.

In this vision, the Western shore of the United States feels that it

looms largely. No small part of the benefits of the Canal are expected

to fall to the Pacific States. Long before it was completed, the minds

of men in the West were filled with it. Its approaching completion

appealed to everyone as an event of such tremendous significance as to

deserve commemoration. Thus when R. B. Hale, in 1904, first proposed

that the opening of the waterway should be marked by an international

exposition in San Francisco, he merely gave expression to the thought of

the whole West.

The Canal is a national undertaking, built by the labor and money of an

entire people. It is of international significance, too, for its

benefits are world-wide. The Exposition thus represents not only the

United States but also the world in its effort to honor this

achievement. San Francisco and California have merely staged the

spectacle, in which the world participates.

An international exposition is a symbol of world progress. This one is

so complete in its significance, so inclusive of all the best that man

has done, that it is something more than a memorial of another event. It

is itself epochal, as is the enterprise it commemorates. It bears a

direct relation to the Canal. The motive of the Exposition was the

grandeur of a great labor. Completed, it embodies that motive in the

highest expression of art.

It took eleven years to prepare for and build the Exposition. The first

proposal in 1904 was followed by five years of discussion of ways and

means. Two years were occupied in raising the money and winning the

consent of the Nation, and then four years more in planning, building,

and collecting the exhibits. The first plans were interrupted, but not

ended, by the most terrible disaster that ever befell a great city--the

fire of 1906, which wiped out the entire business portion, with much of

the residence section, of San Francisco, and destroyed hundreds of

millions of wealth. Before that year ended, and while the city was only

beginning its huge task of rebuilding, it again took up its festival

idea. A company was formed, but, until reconstruction was largely out of

the way, it was impossible to do more than keep the idea alive.

In October, 1909, the idea began to crystallize into a definite purpose.

In that month President Taft, at a banquet at the Fairmont Hotel,

declared that the Canal would be opened to commerce on January 1, 1915.

That announcement gave the final impulse to the growing determination.

The success of the Portola celebration that summer had given the city

confidence in its ability to carry out a great festival undertaking. In

fact, it was at a meeting of the Portola committee that the first move

was made toward the organization that later became effective.

A mass-meeting in the Merchants' Exchange, on December 7, 1909, ended in

a resolve to organize an exposition company. This found such strong

popular support that at a second mass-meeting on April 28, 1910,

$4,089,000 was subscribed in less than two hours. In two months the

subscription had risen to $6,156,840. Governor Gillett called the

California legislature in special session in August to submit to the

people constitutional changes enabling San Francisco to issue exposition

bonds in the amount of $5,000,000, and the State to raise another

$5,000,000 by special tax. In November the people of State and city

voted the two amounts. That placed a minimum of $16,000,000 to the

credit of the Exposition Company and assured the world that California

meant business.

Then followed the struggle for Congressional approval. New Orleans

demanded the right to celebrate the opening of the Panama Canal. All the

resources of both cities were enlisted in a battle before Congress that

drew the attention of the Nation. Three times delegations went from

California to Washington to fight for the Exposition. California won, on

January 31, 1911, when, by a vote of 188 to 159, the House of

Representatives designated San Francisco as the city in which the

Panama-Pacific International Exposition should be held in 1915 to

commemorate the opening of the Canal.

During this struggle California gave her word that she would not ask the

Nation for help in financing the Exposition. The promise has been kept.

The Government has not even erected a national building. It has,

however, helped in material ways, by granting the use of portions of the

Presidio and Fort Mason reservations, by sending naval colliers to bring

exhibits from European countries, and by becoming one of the heaviest

exhibitors. The national exhibits include three companies of marines

encamped on the grounds, and the battleship Oregon anchored off the

Marina.

After Congress had acted, half a year was spent in choosing a site. It

was at first expected that the Exposition would be built in Golden Gate

Park. A compromise among advocates of different sites was reached on

July 25, 1911, when a majority vote of the directors named a site

including portions of Golden Gate Park, Lincoln Park, the Presidio, and

Harbor View. Before 100,000 people President Taft broke ground for the

Exposition in the Stadium of Golden Gate Park. But it was not long

before the choice settled finally on Harbor View alone.

The work began with the organization of the architectural staff. The

following architects accepted places on the commission: McKim, Mead and

White, Henry Bacon, and Thomas Hastings of New York; Robert Farquhar of

Los Angeles; and Louis Christian Mullgardt, George W. Kelham, Willis

Polk, William B. Faville, Clarence R. Ward, and Arthur Brown of San

Francisco. To their number was later added Bernard R. Maybeck of San

Francisco, who designed the Palace of Fine Arts, while Edward H.

Bennett, an associate of Burnham, of Chicago, made the final ground plan

of the Exposition group. When San Francisco had been before Congress

asking national endorsement for the Exposition here, the plans which

were then presented, and on which the fight was won, were prepared by

Ernest Coxhead, architect, of this city. These proposed a massed

grouping of the Exposition structures, around courts, and on the Bay

front. They were afterwards amplified by Coxhead, and furnished the

keynote of the scheme finally carried out. While the Exposition belongs

not to California alone, but to the whole world, it is pleasant to find

that so much of what is best in it is the work of Californians and San

Franciscans.

The architects perfected the plan in 1912. At the same time the actual

work of preparing the site was completed with the filling of the

tide-land portions by hydraulic dredgers and the removal of the standing

buildings. In the same year the department chiefs were named and began

their work. John McLaren, for many years Superintendent of Golden Gate

Park, was put in charge of the landscape engineering; W. D'A. Ryan was

chosen to plan the illumination, and Jules Guerin and K. T. F. Bitter

were placed at the heads of the departments of color and sculpture. With

these details behind, the ground-breaking for Machinery Palace in

January, 1913, marked the beginning of the final stage. In the two years

that remained it was necessary only to carry out the plans already

perfected. No other exposition has been so forehanded. When the gates

opened on February 20, 1915, to remain open till December 4, the

Exposition was practically complete. Some of the exhibitors had not

finished their installation; some of the foreign nations were not ready,

but the Exposition had kept a promise made two years before to have its

own work done on time. This achievement was quite unprecedented. It is

the more remarkable in that the record was made by a city which had been

almost annihilated by fire a few years before.

The entire cost of the Exposition, exclusive of the value of exhibits,

is estimated by the Controller at $50,000,000. This total is made up of

$20,000,000 spent by San Francisco and California, $10,000,000 laid out

in state and foreign buildings and displays, $10,000,000 by private

exhibitors, and $10,000,000 by the one hundred concessionaires on the

Joy Zone. San Francisco contributed $12,500,000, the State of California

$5,000,000, and its fifty-eight counties, $2,500,000. The amounts

expended by foreign nations range from $1,700,000 by Argentina to sums

as low as $100,000. The State of New York spent nearly $1,000,000.

II.

Ground Plan and Landscape Gardening

The Exposition a product of co-operation of the arts--The landscape

made part of the scheme--Block grouping of palaces and courts--Plan of

the buildings--McLaren's wonders in gardening--Succession of flowers

throughout the Exposition--Changes overnight--Unique wall of living

green.

The artistic quality which distinguishes this Exposition above all

others in America or Europe rests on two outstanding facts: the

substantial unity of its architectural scheme, and its harmony of color,

keyed to Nature's coloring of the landscape in which it is placed. The

site furnished the clue to the plan; co-operation made possible the

great success with which it has been worked out.

"Centuries ago," said George W. Kelham, chief of Exposition

architecture, "before the modern age of advanced specialization was

dreamed of, had an architect been asked to create an exposition, he

would have been not only an architect, but painter, sculptor and

landscape engineer as well. He would have thought, planned and executed

from this fourfold angle, and I doubt if it would have even occurred to

him to think of one of the arts as detached from another." These words

express the method of the Exposition builders. The scheme adopted was a

unit, in which all of the arts were needed, and in which they all

combined to a single end. Each building, each court, every garden and

large mass of foliage, was designed as part of a balanced composition.

To make the landscape an integral part of the Exposition picture, by

fitting the Exposition to the landscape, was the common aim of

architect, colorist, sculptor and landscape engineer. The Mediterranean

setting offered by a sloping bench on the shore of the Golden Gate

suggested, as most capable of high expression of beauty, the scheme of a

city of the Far East, its great buildings walled in and sheltering its

courts. The coloring of earth, sky and sea furnished the palette from

which tints were chosen alike for palaces and gardens.

The beauty of this plan is matched by its practical advantages. The

compact grouping of the Exposition palaces not only meant a saving of

ground and labor, but it makes it easier to handle the crowds, and

lessens the walking required of the visitor. There is no monotony. In

developing the general idea, each architect and artist was left free to

express his own personality and imagination. The result is that varied

forms and colors in the different courts and buildings blend truly into

the whole picture of an Oriental city, set in the midst of a vast

amphitheater of hills and bay, arched by the fathomless blue of the

California sky.

The ground plan is as simple as it is compact. Entering through the main

gate at Scott Street, the visitor has the Exposition before him,

practically an equal section on either hand. (See map, p. 30, 31.) On

right and left in the South Garden are Festival Hall and the Palace of

Horticulture. (p. 23, 24, 29.) In front is the Tower of Jewels, before

it the Fountain of Energy. (p. 47.) The tower centers the south front of

a solid block of eight palaces, so closely joined in structure, and so

harmonized in architecture, as to make really a single palace. On the

right and left of the tower are the Palaces of Manufactures and Liberal

Arts; beyond them, on east and west, are Varied Industries and

Education. Behind these four, and fronting on the bay from east to west,

are Mines, Transportation, Agriculture and Food Products. In the center

of the group, cut out of the corners of the Manufactures, Liberal Arts,

Agriculture and Transportation Palaces, and entered from the south

through the Tower of Jewels, is the great Court of the Universe, opened

on east and west by the triumphal Arches of the Nations. (p. 59 and

63.) The Court opens northward between the Palaces of Transportation and

Agriculture in a splendid colonnaded avenue to the Column of Progress,

near the bay. (p. 57.)

Through the arch on the east the Court of the Universe opens into an

avenue which leads to the Court of the Ages, cut out of the intersection

of the four Palaces of Manufactures, Varied Industries, Mines and

Transportation. (p. 70.) A similar avenue on the west passes to the

Court of Seasons, carved from the common junction of Liberal Arts,

Education, Food Products and Agriculture. (p. 79 and 80.) Avenues pass

east and west and to the north from each of these two courts, and on the

south each connects through an arch with a court set back into the south

front of the palace group, the Courts of Flowers and Palms. (p. 85, 87,

88, 93, 100.) On east and west of this central group of eight palaces

are the Palace of Machinery and the Palace of Fine Arts (p. 105, 112),

serving architecturally to balance the scheme. East of the exhibit

palaces is the Joy Zone, a mile-long street solidly built with bizarre

places of amusement. Balancing the Zone on the west is the State and

Foreign section, with the live-stock exhibits, the polo field, race

track and stadium beyond, at the western extremity of the grounds. The

state buildings stand along two avenues on the north side of the

section; the foreign pavilions occupy its southern half.

The Tower of Jewels and the central palace group face south on the

Avenue of Palms (p. 18), which, at its west end, turns as it passes the

Fine Arts lagoon, and becomes the Avenue of Nations. This latter

highway, bordered by the foreign buildings, joins at its western

extremity the Esplanade, a broad avenue passing the north face of the

palace group and continuing westward between the state and the foreign

sections.

On the east, the Avenue of Progress divides the central group from the

Palace of Machinery. Administration Avenue on the west separates the

central group from the Palace of Fine Arts. Along the bay shore is the

Marina, and between it and the Esplanade are the Yacht Harbor and the

lawns of the North Gardens.

Surrounding all these buildings, filling the courts and bordering the

avenues, are John McLaren's lovely gardens. For multitudes of visitors

this landscape gardening is the most wonderful thing about the

Exposition. The trees and flowers have been placed with perfect art;

they look as though they had been there always. It is hard for a

stranger to believe that three years ago the Exposition site was a

marsh, and that these trees were transplanted last year.

The Avenue of Palms is bordered on each side for half a mile with a

double row of California fan palms and Canary date palms, trees from

eighteen to twenty-five feet high and festooned higher than a man's head

with ivy and blooming nasturtium. (See p. 18.) These massive plants,

soil, roots, vines and all, were brought bodily from Golden Gate Park.

Against the south walls of the buildings facing this avenue are banked

hundreds of eucalyptus globulus, forty to fifty feet high, with smaller

varieties of eucalyptus, and yellow flowering acacias.

The Avenue of Progress is bordered with groups of Draceona indivisa,

averaging twenty feet in height. The walls of the palaces on either hand

are clothed with tall Monterey and Lawson cypresses and arbor vitae.

Between these and the Draceonas of the avenue are planted specimens of

Abies pinsapo, the Spanish fir. Banks of flowers and vines cover the

ground around the bases of the trees. Administration Avenue has on one

side the thickets of the Fine Arts lagoon, on the other, masses of

eucalyptus globulus against the palace walls, finished off with other

hardy trees and shrubs. Against the north front of the palaces are set

Monterey cypresses and eucalyptus, banked with acacias.

The entire city side of the South Gardens is bordered by a wondrous wall

of living green,--not a hedge, but truly a wall,--the most surprising

of all McLaren's inventions. For this wall, though living, is not rooted

in the ground, but is really a skeleton of timbers, three times the

height of a man, paneled solidly on both sides with shallow boxes of

earth thickly set with a tiny green plant, which, as though crushed down

by the weight of its name, Mesembryantliemum spectabilis, hugs the soil

closely. Each box, really nothing more than a tray, is barely deep

enough to contain a couple of inches of earth, and is screened over with

wire mesh to prevent the slice of soil from falling out when it is set

on edge. Some thousands of these boxes are required to cover the entire

wall, which thus appears a solid mass of greenery. The little plant

looks like the common ice-plant of old-fashioned gardens, and is

actually kin to it. It asks little of this world, is accustomed to grow

in difficult places, and is kept green by sprinkling. If a section of it

gives up the struggle, the tray may be replaced with a fresh one. From

time to time a blush of tiny pink flowers runs over the wall. There

seems to be no season for the blossoms, but whenever the sun shines,

this delicate shimmer of bloom appears.

The season opened in the great sunken garden of the Court of the

Universe with solid masses of rhododendron. The Court of the Ages was a

pink flare of hyacinths, which, with an exquisite sense of the desert

feeling of the court, were stripped of their leaves and left to stand on

bare stalks. The South Gardens and the Court of Flowers were a golden

glow of daffodils. Daffodils, too, were everywhere else, with

rhododendron just breaking into bloom. The daffodil show lasted several

weeks until, over night, it was replaced by acres of yellow tulips

blooming above thick mats of pansies. This magic change was merely the

result of McLaren's forethought. The daffodils had all been set at the

right time to bloom when the Exposition opened. The pansies were set

with them, but were unnoticed beneath the taller daffodils. Unnoticed

also were the tulips, steadily shooting upward to be ready in bloom the

moment the daffodils began to fail. One night and morning scores of

workmen clipped off all the fading daffodils, and left a yellow sea of

tulips with cups just opening. When the tulips faded early, because of

continued rains, the solid masses of pansies remained to keep up the

golden show. With the end of the yellow period came three months of pink

flowers, to be followed in the closing third of the Exposition's life by

a show of variegated blooms.

This marvelous sequence of flowers without a gap is not the result of

chance, or even of California's floral prodigality, but of McLaren's

hard-headed calculation. He actually rehearsed the whole floral scheme

of the Exposition for three seasons beforehand. To a day, he knew the

time that would elapse between the planting and the blooming of any

flower he planned to use. Thus he scheduled his gardening for the whole

season so that the gardens should always be in full bloom. In McLaren's

program there are ten months of constant bloom, without a break, without

a wait. No such gardening was ever seen before. Needless to say, it

could hardly have been attempted elsewhere than in California.

III.

The South Gardens

A charming foreground to the great palaces--Palace of Horticulture and

some of its rare plants--Food for pirates--Ancient and blue-blooded

forest dwarfs--The Horticultural Gardens--House of Hoo Hoo--Festival

Hall, with its fine sculptures by Sherry Fry--A remarkable pipe organ.

Entering the Exposition by the main or Scott Street gate, the visitor

has before him the beautiful South Gardens. (See p. 23.) These form an

animated and effective foreground for the Exposition palaces. Except for

their fountains, the gardens and the structures in them are less notable

for sculpture than the central courts of the Exposition. Most of the

plastic work here is purely decorative. The gardens are formal, French

in style, laid out with long rectangular pools, each with a formal

fountain, and each surrounded by a conventional balustrade with flower

receptacles and lamp standards. In harmony with their surroundings, the

buildings, too, are French, of florid, festival style.

The Palace of Horticulture, Bakewell and Brown, architects, is the

largest and most splendid of the garden structures. (p. 24.) Byzantine

in its architecture, suggesting the Mosque of Ahmed I, at

Constantinople, its Gallic decorations have made it essentially French

in spirit. The ornamentation of this palace is the most florid of any

building in the Exposition proper. Yet this opulence is not

inappropriate. In size and form, no less than in theme, the structure is

well adapted to carry such rich decoration. This is the palace of the

bounty of nature; its adornment symbolizes the rich yield of California

fields.

In harmony also with the theme, the human figure is absent from the

sculpture, save in the caryatids of the porches and the groups

supporting the tall finials. Fruits and flowers, interwoven in heavy

garlands and overflowing from baskets and urns, carry out the idea of

profuse abundance. The great dome, larger than the dome of either St.

Peter's at Rome or the Pantheon at Paris, is itself an overturned fruit

basket, with a second latticed basket on its top. The conception of

profusion becomes almost barbaric in the three pavilioned entrances,

flanked on either side by the tall finials suggesting minarets. Here the

Oriental influence of the architectural form, the mosque, becomes most

pronounced, changing to French again in the caryatid porches.

Altogether, the Palace of Horticulture is a beautiful building, but

rather hard to see properly from the ground. From an elevation, where it

appears more as a whole, it is far more effective. Curiously, it

photographs better than any other building here, save the Fine Arts

Palace, but in actual view it hardly lives up to the pictures. Perhaps

this is because the comparatively small portions of the structure seen

between the trees near-by are dwarfed by the huge dome, while in

photographs the camera emphasizes the lower and nearer sections and

reduces the proportions of the dome.

The exhibit housed under the great dome should not be passed by. A vivid

bit of the tropics is the Cuban display. Here, in an atmosphere

artificially heated and moistened to reproduce the steaming jungle, is

massed a splendid exhibit of those island trees and flowers that most of

us know only through pictures and stories of southern seas. Around the

central source of light, which is hidden under tropic vines, stands a

circle of royal palms; and planted thickly over the remaining space are

jungle trees, vivid enough to our imagination, but many of which have

never before been seen in this country.

Boys who feel pirate blood in their veins will revel in this

reproduction of the scenes of imagined adventure. Any reasonable pirate

could be quite happy here. For here is the breadfruit tree, read of in

many a tale of castaways; also the cocoanut palm, with the fruits

hanging among the fronds, waiting for the legendary monkey to scamper up

the trunk and hurl the great balls at the heads of the beholders. Here,

too, are the mango, and many sorts of bananas, and the cabbage palm,

another favorite resource of starving adventurers. With these there are

other jungle denizens,--the bamboo palm, the paperleaf palm, splendid

specimens of the world-old cycad family, the guanabana, and a Tom Thumb

palm, which, full grown, is no more than a handbreadth high.

Ancient among trees are the two specimens of microcycas from the swamps

of Cuba. These Methuselahs of the forest are at least 1,000 years old,

according to the botanists. They are among the slowest growing of living

things, and neither of them is much taller than a man. They were

seedlings when Alfred the Great ruled England, and perhaps four feet

high when Columbus first broke through the western seas. In the four

centuries of Cuban history they have not grown so much again.

These venerable trees belong to the bluest-blooded aristocracy of the

vegetable world. Ages ago they inhabited our northern states. Their

family has come down practically unchanged from the steaming days of the

Carboniferous period, when ferns grew one hundred feet high, and

thronged with other rank tropical growths in matted masses to form the

coal measures. The fossil remains of cycads in the rocks of that period

prove that they once flourished in the tropic swamps where now are the

hills of Wyoming and Dakota.

Scattered among the trees is a host of flowering vines, of huge crotons

with variegated leaves, giant gardenias and tropical lilies. When these

bloom, the air of this transplanted jungle is heavy with the perfume of

their own island habitat.

The Horticultural Gardens south of the Palace belong to it, and contain

a large part of the horticultural exhibits. As they were planted for

competitive exhibition purposes, they will not show the constant beauty

that appears in the South Gardens. Here we must wait for the flowers in

their season, and not expect to have them changed overnight for us by

the gardeners' magic.

Back of this horticultural garden is the House of Hoo Hoo, in Forestry

Court, flanked by the Pine and Redwood Bungalows. It needs but a glance

at its beguiling loveliness to know that here is another lesson in art

and architecture by Bernard Maybeck. Here again is poetry in

architecture, of a different order from the noble theme of Maybeck's

Fine Arts Palace, but none the less poetry. This is a sylvan idyll,

telling of lofty trees, cool shades, and secret bowers of fern and vine

and wild flower, in the moist and tangled redwood forests. There is

little used but rough-barked tree trunks, but what delicate harmony of

arrangement!

This lumbermen's lodge is one building outside the Exposition palaces

that should not be missed, even though almost hidden away against the

south wall. It is worth pondering over. No one may want to build a house

like it, but it proclaims how beauty can be attained with simple

materials and just proportions.

Festival Hall, Robert Farquhar, architect, balances the Palace of

Horticulture in the architectural plan of the South Gardens. (p. 29.)

It, too, is French in style, its architecture suggested by the Theatre

des Beaux Arts in Paris, a design which furnished the dome necessary to

harmonize with that of the palace to the west. As architecture, however,

it fails to hold up its end with the splendid Horticultural Palace. Its

dome is too large, and has too little structure around it, to be placed

so near the ground without an effect of squattiness. Its festive

adornment is extremely moderate. On the cornice above the main entrance

is the rhyton, the ancient Greek drinking horn, symbol of festivity.

The sculpture, all done by Sherry E. Fry, carries out the same idea. The

graceful figures poised on the corner domes are Torch Bearers. On the

pylons at either end of the semicircular arcade of the main entrance are

two reclining figures. On the right is Bacchus, with his grapes and

wineskin,--a magnificently "pickled" Bacchus! On the left a woman is

listening to the strains of festal music. (p. 32.) Each of the pedestals

before the false windows at the ends of the arcade supports a figure of

Flora with garlands of flowers. On the ground below the two Floras are

two of the most delightful pieces of all the Exposition sculpture. One

is a little Pan, pipes in hand, sitting on a skin spread over an Ionic

capital. This is a real boy, crouching to watch the lizard that has

crawled out from beneath the stone. The other is a young girl dreaming

the dreams of childhood. There is something essentially girlish about

this. Unfortunately, it is now almost hidden by shrubbery.

Within Festival Hall is one of the half-dozen greatest organs in the

world. It has more than 7,000 pipes. The heaviest of them weigh as much

as 1,200 pounds apiece. Though mere size is not the essential quality of

a fine instrument, it is hard to ignore the real immensity of this. The

echo organ alone is larger than most pipe organs. This complementary

instrument, which is played from the console of the main organ, is

placed under the roof of the hall, above the center of the ceiling. Its

tones, floating down through the apertures in the dome, echo the themes

of the great organ.

Few organs have so mighty a note as the sixty-four-foot open pitch

attainable on the Exposition's instrument. Speaking by itself, this note

has no sound. It is only a tremendous quaking of the whole building, as

though the earth were shuddering. By itself it has no place in organ

music. It is not intended to be struck alone. It is used only as a

foundation upon which to build other tones. In combination it adds

majesty to the music, rumbling in a gigantic undertone to the lighter

notes.

Even the open stops in this organ are of more than ordinary dimensions.

The usual limit in a pipe organ is the sixteen-foot open stop. But in

this organ there are several pipes, both of wood and of metal,

thirty-two feet or more in length.

Two small buildings, balanced on either side of the Scott-street

entrance, are the Press Building and the Exposition home of the National

Young Women's Christian Association. They are alike, French in style,

and fronted with caryatid porches.

The real glory of the South Gardens lies in their flowers, and in the

charming setting the landscape engineers have here given to the south

facade of the palace group. There is the air of Versailles in the

planned gayety of the scene. In this the pools and fountains, the formal

gardens, the massed trees and shrubbery, and the two palaces themselves,

play their part.

IV.

"The Walled City": It's Great Palaces and their Architecture,

Color and Material

The central group of Exposition structures really a single vast palace,

behind a rampart--Historical fitness of such architecture here--The

south facade--Spanish portals of Varied Industries and Education

Palaces--Italian Renaissance portals of Manufactures and Liberal Arts,

and of the Courts of Flowers and Palms--The Roman west wall--Ornate

doorway of north facade Interior courts and aisles--A balanced plan--

This the first exposition to adopt the colors of nature for its

structures--Jules Guerin's color scheme, designed for an artificial

travertine marble--Simplicity of his palette, from which he painted the

entire Exposition--Even the flowers and sanded walks conform.

Although there are eight buildings named in the central palace group,

these are so closely connected in design and structure that in reality

they make but one palace. Here is seen the unity with variety which

marks this Exposition above all others. Commemorating a great

international event, its architecture is purposely eclectic,

cosmopolitan. Under a dominating Moorish-Spanish general form, the

single architect of the group, W. B. Faville, of San Francisco, drawing

upon the famous styles of many lands and schools, has combined into an

ordered and vastly impressive whole not only the structural art of

Orient and of the great Spanish builders, but also the principles of the

Italian Renaissance and the architecture of Greece and Rome from which

it sprang. Thus the group is wholly Southern in its origin. There is no

suggestion here of the colder Gothic architecture of the North.

Differing from each other in many details, the eight palaces are alike

in their outer walls, their domes and gables, and similar in their

entrances. These portals give a distinctive character to each palace.

While the palaces differ widely in details of decoration, they all have

a common source; they are all Mediterranean,--not all Byzantine, or

Roman, or Italian, or Spanish, or Moorish, but some thing of each. The

manner in which these forms are carried over from one palace to another,

and the almost constant recurrence of some of them, like the Moorish

domes at the corners, blends them without jar or break. The great wall,

almost blank, except for the entrances, encloses the palaces like a

walled city of the Mediterranean or the nearer Orient. Such a walled

city it is, with its courts, its avenues, its fountains and pools, all

placed in a setting of landscape, sea and sky, that might belong to

Spain, or Southern Italy, or the lands of the Moslem.

The broad, unbroken spaces that mark each face of this vast block

greatly heighten the illusion. They lend an Old-World aspect, the

historical fitness of which must not be overlooked. For these plain

surfaces are indeed significant in the celebration of an event which was

predicted by the Spanish conquistadors a century before the English

Cavaliers and Puritans laid the foundations of our American

Commonwealth. Relieved only by the foliage that is finely massed against

them, the great blank spaces of the "Walled City" recall the severer

side of Mediterranean architecture, just as their gorgeously ornate

portals, towers and domes speak of its warmth and color. They are an

architectural feature that has traveled far. The unbroken rampart, born

of the need of defense in immemorial cities on the east and south shores

of the Mediterranean, was carried thence by the Moors to Spain, to go in

turn with the conquerors of the New World, and became a characteristic

of the civic and ecclesiastical architecture of Latin America. Hence it

is not without meaning and reason that this historic architectural form,

the blank exterior of the walled city, has found its finest use in the

far-western city of St. Francis. Quite apart from their frequent

occurrence in the mission architecture of old Alta California, these

simple wall spaces well befit the monumental structure that honors an

achievement so important to all Spanish America as the Panama Canal.

The southern front of the group, facing the Avenue of Palms, has the

aspect of a single palace, opened in the center by the noble Roman arch

of the Tower of Jewels, and indented by the Court of Flowers and the

Court of Palms. (See p. 18, 88.) Seen across the South Gardens, the

whole facade rising from the trees along the wall, is wondrously

beautiful. The wall is seventy feet high, topped with a red-tiled roof.

The pale green domes over the centers of the palaces are Byzantine, a

style much used in the mosques of Islam. The gables are each crowned

with a figure of Victory, sometimes called an "acroterium," from the

architectural name of the tablet on which it stands. The towers on

either side of the entrances to the courts are Italian. The little

towers buttressing the domes on the corners of the palaces at the

extreme right and left of the front, and from there repeated around the

east, west and north walls, are Moorish, with characteristic latticed

windows.

The Palace of Varied Industries, on the extreme right, is made entirely

Spanish in its southern front by its beautiful central portal, modeled

after the sixteenth-century entrance to the Hospice of Santa Cruz at

Toledo. (pp. 18, 37.) Except for the sculpture, in which the Spanish

saints have been replaced by figures of industry, the portal is a copy

of the original. All the figures are the work of Ralph Stackpole, whose

treatment of the subjects, no less than their exalted position in the

niches of the saints, has dignified the workman.

On each side of the entrance is the "Man with a Pick." The group in the

tympanum represents Varied Industries. (p. 138.) The central figure is

Agriculture, the basic food-supplying industry. On one side is the

Builder, on the other the Common Workman. Beyond them are Commerce

holding the figurehead of a ship, and a woman with a spindle, a lamb

before her, typifying the textile industries.

The figure in the keystone represents the Power of Industry. Under the

upper canopy is an old man handing his burden to a younger one, the Old

World passing its burdens on to the New World. The infant figures come

from the Spanish original.

The two lesser portals on the south side of this palace are likewise

Spanish. In the grill work of their openings, designed in imitation of

metal, as well as in that of the central portal, there is a strong

suggestion of the Arabian architecture brought into Spain by the Moors.

Indeed, there is something Moorish about the whole work, except that the

Mohammedans do not represent living things in art. A passage in the

Koran tells devout followers of the prophet that if they should carve or

picture a plant or animal they would be called upon at the Judgment to

make it real. Sometimes, however, they employed Christian workmen to

execute such representations, being quite resigned to let the unbeliever

risk damnation.

The bears terminating the buttresses on the walls represent California,

and hold the seal of the State. Such buttresses against a plain wall,

with a tiled roof, are common in the Franciscan missions of California.

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