Tower of Jewels, are alike on the south, and Italian. The Moorish corner
domes are omitted here, as the palaces terminate on one side in one of
the Italian towers and on the other in the wings of the Tower of Jewels.
The central portals are Italian, with tiled roofs and latticed grills,
with handsome imitations of bronze work under the arches. The friezes
over the arches as well as the figures in the niches are by Mahonri
Young, of New York. The frieze represents industries of various kinds,
the work of women as well as of men. In the niche on the left is a woman
with a spindle, on the right a workman with a sledgehammer. Like
Stackpole's figures on the portal of Varied Industries, Young's
sculptures are simple and strong. The lion used as the keystone figure
of the arch and the lions and elephants alternating as fountain heads in
the niches in the wall give an Oriental touch to these palaces.
Of their portals none are more beautiful than those leading from the
Courts of Flowers and Palms. All four are finely expressive of the
noblest architecture of the Italian Renaissance. They glow with the
sunshine and color of Italy. Those entering the Palaces of Liberal Arts
and Education from the Court of Palms are identical in design, and seem
almost perfect in their harmonious lines and warm color. (p. 88.) The
other pair, opening from the Palaces of Manufactures and Varied
Industries into the Court of Flowers, are cheery portals, made more
domestic in feeling by the loggia between the colonnade and the tiled
roof. (p. 85, 100.)
The three portals of the Palace of Education are of the Spanish
Renaissance, and the Moorish towers reappear at the corners. The twisted
columns of the entrances are Byzantine. The tympanum above the central
portal contains Gustav Gerlach's group "Education." (p. 138.) In the
center is the teacher with her pupils, seated under the Tree of
Knowledge; on the left, the mother instructs her children; on the right,
the young man, his school days past, is working out for himself a
problem of science. Thus the group pictures the various stages of
education, from its beginning at home to that training in the school of
life which ends only at death. The cartouche just above the entrance
bears the Book of Knowledge, shedding light in all directions, the
curtains of darkness drawn back by the figures at the side. The hour
glass below the book counsels the diligent use of time; the crown above
symbolizes the reward of knowledge. The banded globe over the portal
signifies that education encompasses the world.
Above each of the flanking portals is an inset panel representing the
Teacher, a woman at the left, a man at the right. The man looks toward
the woman, thus signifying that the world is no longer dependent on man
alone.
Turning the corner, the entire west wall of the palaces becomes Roman to
accord with the Roman Palace of Fine Arts across the lagoon. The
characteristic features are the Roman half-domes above the entrances,
and the sculptures repeated in the niches of the walls. (p. 119.) On
this side, the Palaces of Education and Food Products are alike, except
for a slight difference in the vestibule statuary and the fountains.
On the great Sienna columns beside the half-domes stands Ralph
Stackpole's "Thought." The semicircle of female figures in the vestibule
of the dome of the Palace of Education, bearing in their hands books
with the motto "Ex Libris," though the preposition is omitted,
represents the store of knowledge in books. The similar array of men
bearing wreaths of cereals in the half-dome of the Palace of Food
Products signifies the source of vigor in the fruits of the soil. The
simple Italian fountains in the vestibules, the work of W. B. Faville,
are decorative and beautiful.
The alternated groups in the niches along the wall are "The Triumph of
the Fields" and "Abundance." This is well called archaeological
sculpture, for the emblems are from the dim past, and can be understood
only with the help of an archaeological encyclopaedia. In the first are
the bull standard and the Celtic cross, which were carried through the
fields in ancient harvest festivals. In the second, the objects heaped
around the lady suggest abundance.
The north facade of the palace group is an unbroken Spanish wall, blank,
except for the four beautiful and identical sixteenth-century portals.
(See p. 43.) This magnificent decoration, suggestive of the finest work
in rare metals, is, in fact, called "plateresque," from its resemblance
to the work of silversmiths. The figures looking out on the blue water
that reaches to Panama and the shores of Peru, are historical. In the
center is the Conquistador. Flanking his stately figure on each side is
the pirate of the Spanish Main, the adventurer who served with but a
color of lawful war under Drake, the buccaneer that followed Morgan to
the sack of Panama. (p. 44.) These statues are by Allen Newman.
Every man jack of the eight pirates on the four portals is apparently
bow-legged. There is a vast space between the knees of these buccaneers
of Panama, but when you look more closely it is hard to decide whether
those pirate knees are really sprung, or whether it is the posture of
the figures that suggests the old quip about the pig in the alley. The
sculptor has at least given to the figures a curious effect of bandy
legs. The feet are set wide apart, the space between and behind the legs
is deeply hollowed out, and the rope which hangs from the hands curves
in over the feet to add to the illusion. There used to be a saying that
cross-eyed people could not be honest. Similarly, perhaps, Newman
thought the appearance of bow-legs would increase the villainy of his
pirate. Certainly, no such blood-curdling ruffian has been seen out of
comic opera.
The east wall of the palace group becomes Old Italian, to harmonize with
the Roman architecture of the Machinery Palace opposite. The portals
suggest those of ancient Italian city walls. In the niches stands Albert
Weinert's "Miner," here used because the Palace of Mines forms one half
the wall.
In the long avenue that runs east and west through the center of the
group, the unity of the eight buildings becomes more apparent as we view
the noble arches which join them, and note the character of their inner
facades. Education and Food Products are alike in the walls and portals
fronting on the dividing aisle. The Spanish architecture of the south
facade of Education is here carried over to Food Products. Similarly,
the avenue between Mines and Varied Industries is the same on both
sides, carrying out the Old Italian of the east front, and with The
Miner repeated in the portal niches of both palaces. The avenues leading
from the Court of the Universe to the Court of Ages and the Court of
Seasons have been variously called the Aisles of the Rising and the
Setting Sun, or the Venetian and Florentine Aisles. Their four walls are
in the style of the Italian Renaissance, and show a diaper design
similar to that on the Italian towers of the Courts of Flowers and
Palms.
In an artistic sense, this group is incomplete without the Palace of
Fine Arts on the west and Machinery Hall on the east. (p. 105, 106.)
Balancing each other in the general scheme, they form the necessary
terminals of the axis of the Exposition plan. This matter of balance has
been carefully thought out everywhere, and affords a fine example of the
co-operation of the many architects who worked out the vast general
design. The Courts of Seasons and Ages are set off against each other;
the Courts of Palms and Flowers weigh equally one against the other; the
Arches of the Nations not only balance but match; even the Tower of
Jewels, which is the center of the whole plan, is offset by the Column
of Progress. In the South Gardens, the Palace of Horticulture is
balanced against Festival Hall.
Color and Material.--All other Expositions have been almost colorless.
This is the first to make use of the natural colors of sea and sky, of
hill and tree, and to lay upon all its grounds and buildings tints that
harmonize with these. Jules Guerin, the master colorist, was the artist
who used the Exposition as a canvas on which to spread glorious hues.
Guerin decided, first, that the basic material of the buildings should
be an imitation of the travertine of ancient Roman palaces. On this
delicate old ivory background he laid a simple series of warm, yet
quiet, Oriental hues, which, in their adaptation to the material of
construction and to the architecture, as well as in their exquisite
harmony with the natural setting, breeds a vast respect for his art.
The color scheme covers everything, from the domes of the buildings down
to the sand in the driveways and the uniforms of the Exposition guards.
The walls, the flags and pennants that wave over the buildings, the
shields and other emblems of heraldry that hide the sources of light,
draw their hues from Guerin's plan. The flowers of the garden conform to
it, the statuary is tinted in accordance with it, and even the painters
whose mural pictures adorn the courts and arches and the Fine Arts
Rotunda were obliged to use his color series. The result gives such life
and beauty and individuality to this Exposition as no other ever had. It
makes possible such beautiful ornamentation as the splendid Nubian
columns of the Palace of Fine Arts, and the glories of the arches of the
Court of the Universe. (See frontispiece.)
Go into that Court on a bright day and take note of the art that has
made Nature herself a part of the color plan. From a central position in
the court, where one can look down the broad approach leading from the
bay, Nature spreads before the beholder two expanses of color, the deep
blue of salt water sparkling in the sun, and the not less deep, but more
ethereal, blue of the California sky. With this are the browns and
greens of the hills beyond the bay, and, nearer at hand, the vivid
verdure of lawns and trees and shrubs. All these the designer used as
though they were colors from his own palette. To go with them in his
scheme he chose for pillar and portico, for the wall spaces behind, for
arch and dome, for the decorations and for material of the sculptures,
such hues that the whole splendid court and its vistas of palaces beyond
blend with the colors of sea and sky and of green living things in a
glorious harmony.
Such a view of the heart of the Exposition at its best compels
recognition of Guerin's skill in color. It needed a vivid imagination to
realize the possibilities of the scene, and visualize it. It required
infinite delicacy and a fine sense of the absolute rightness of shade
and tint to produce such harmonious beauty. The mere thought of it is a
lesson in art.
The decision of the architects to develop the theme of an Oriental
walled city, and the natural setting of the site, Mediterranean in its
sea and sky, led Guerin to select Oriental colors. Aiming at simplicity,
he decreed that not more than eight or nine colors should be found upon
the subdued palette from which he would paint the Exposition. Then he
took into consideration the climate and atmospheric conditions peculiar
to San Francisco. Every phase of sky and sea and land, every shadow upon
the Marin hills, across the bay, was noted in choosing an imitation of
natural travertine for the key color of the Palaces.
This is a pale pinkish-gray-buff, which may be called old ivory. It is
not garish, as a dead white would be, especially in the strong
California sunlight, but soft and restful to the eye. It harmonizes with
the other colors selected, and, most important of all, it avoids a
certain "new" effect which pure white would give, and which is deadly to
art.
Paul Deniville, who had already developed a successful imitation of
travertine, was engaged to make the composition to be applied over the
exterior walls. This is a reproduction in stucco of the travertine
marble of the Roman palaces of the period of Augustus. This marble is a
calcareous formation deposited from the waters of hot springs, usually
in volcanic regions, and is common in the hills about Rome. It often
contains the moulds left by leaves and other materials incorporated in
the deposit. These account for the corrugations of the stone when it is
cut. In California, as in other regions where hot springs are found,
travertine is not uncommon. It is found notably in the volcanic district
of Mono County, and elsewhere, sometimes in the form of Mexican onyx,
which is only a translucent variety of the same marble. In its
reproduction here the marble has been imitated even to the natural
imperfections which roughened the Italian stone. In the concave surfaces
of the ornamentation the color has been deepened, so that it appears
sometimes as a rich reddish brown. All this enhances the antique effect,
making the palace walls and columns still more like those of the old
Roman construction.
Besides the travertine the eight other colors employed are:
1. French Green, used in all lattices, flower tubs, curbing of great
plats, where it complements the green of the grass, In the exterior
woodwork and some of the smaller doors.
2. Oxidized Copper Green, a peculiar mottled light green. All the domes,
except the six yellow ones in the Court of the Universe, are of this
light green. It forms a sharp contrast with the blue sky and a pleasing
topping to the travertine walls.
3. Blue Green, found in the ornamentation of the travertine, and in the
darker shades at the bases of the flag poles. These first three colors,
all in tones of green, are regarded as one unit in the spectrum of nine
colors allowed by Guerin.
4. Pinkish-Red-Gold, used in the flag poles and lighting standards only.
It is a very brilliant and striking pigment, and is always topped with
gold.
5. Wall-Red, used in three tones. They are found in the backgrounds of
the colonnades, courts and niches, on the tiled roofs, and in the
statuary. These reds run from terra-cotta to a deep russet, and
predominate in the interiors of the principal courts.
6. Yellow-Golden-Orange, largely used in enriching the travertine and in
enhancing shadow effects. It is found in the architectural mouldings and
in much of the statuary. The following rule was adopted in regard to the
coloring of the statuary: That which is high off the ground, that is,
the figures surmounting the domes and spires, is of golden yellow, while
that close to the eye of the beholder is of verde-antique, a rich
copper-green streaked with gray, and much is left in the natural
travertine tint.
7. Deep Cerulean Blue and Oriental Blue, verging upon green, are used in
the ceilings and other vaulted recesses, in deep shadows, in coffers and
in the background or ornamentation in which travertine rosettes are set
in cerulean blue panels. It might be called electric blue. It is
brilliant and at the same time in harmony with the other colors.
8. Gray, very similar to the travertine.
9. Marble Tint, spread over the travertine in places with a transparent
glaze.
10. Verde-Antique, really one of the many shades of green--a
combination of the copper-green and a soft gray, and therefore not to be
counted as one of the nine cardinal colors. It simulates corroded
copper, and has faint yellow and black lines.
With the gamut thus restricted by the taste and discrimination of a
master, the decorators and artists were strictly limited to the nine
colors named. No one might use other than cerulean blue, if he employed
blue at all; no other red than the tone popularly known as "Pompeiian"
has been admitted in the scheme. In this red the admixture of brown and
yellow nullify any tendency towards carmine on crimson. The French and
the copper greens and the intermediate shades approved by Guerin are the
only greens allowed.
Here is seen the great advantage of a one-man idea. No other exposition
was ever so carefully or successfully planned in this particular. There
is no court of one color clashing with a dome, palace or tower of
conflicting tone, whether near by or at a distance. All is in harmony.
Working with Guerin, John McLaren, in charge of the landscape gardening,
so selected the flowers which border the paths and fill the parterres
that they too conform to the color scheme. Though three different
complete floral suits are to be seen at the Exposition in three periods,
each one accords with the hues of wall and tower, completing in harmony
the effect of the whole. The pinkish sand spread on the paths and
avenues to harmonize with other ground colors was not always tinted.
Some one had noticed that the white beach sand at Santa Cruz turned pink
when heated. Seizing upon this fact, McLaren and Guerin used it to give
a final touch to their scheme of color. They drew another lesson from
the washerwoman. A familiar laundry device was used to give sparkle and
brilliance to the waters of the pools and lagoons. They were blued, not
by dumping indigo into the water, but by tinting the bottoms with blue
paint.
V.
The Tower of Jewels
Imposing as the central accent of the Exposition's architecture--Its
magic glow at night--A magnificent Roman arch--"Jewels" of the Tower--
An historical landmark--Inscriptions, sculpture and murals--Fountains
of "Youth" and "El Dorado"--An epitome of the Exposition's art.
The Tower of Jewels, Carrere and Hastings, architects, is the central
structure in the Exposition architecture. (See p. 47.) It plays a triple
role. In architecture it is the center on which all the other buildings
are balanced. In relation to the theme of the Exposition, it is the
triumphal gateway to the commemorative celebration of an event the
history of which it summarizes in its sculpture, painting and
inscription. Last of all, it is an epitome of the Exposition art.
Towering above everything else, it is at once the culminating point and
the center of the Exposition scheme. It links the palaces of the central
group, otherwise divided into two sections. Upon it rests the balance of
Festival Hall and the Palace of Horticulture, of the courts, the
gardens, the Palace of Machinery and the Palace of Fine Arts. It finds
its own balancing structure in the Column of Progress. It is intended to
be the first thing seen from afar, the point from which the eye travels
to lesser things on either hand.
At night the Tower remains the center of the transformed Exposition.
Under the white light of the powerful projectors, details disappear, the
structure is softened into a form almost ghostly. It becomes ethereal.
All its daytime glitter gone, it seems really spiritual. The jewels hung
over the upper portion do not flash out a diamond brilliance, as they
might have been expected to do; rather they spread the light in a soft
film about the Tower. (p. 135.)
From close at hand, the arch and its flanking colonnades are truly
imperial. There the ornamentation and color of the upper part are not in
the eye. Up to the cornice above the arch, the mass of the Tower is
magnificent in proportion and harmonious in line and color. It almost
seems that the builders might have stopped there, or perhaps have
finished the massive block of the arch with a triumphant mass of
sculpture.
Studied from the ground underneath the Tower and around it, the arch and
the two little colonnaded courts in the wings are gloriously free and
spacious, with the spaciousness that the Exposition as a whole reflects,
that of the sea and sky of its setting. I walked here when the ocean
breeze, fresh from winter storms at sea, was sweeping through them.
There is no confinement, no sense of imprisonment from the boundless
depths of air outside. Something which the architect could not include
in his plans has come in to make constant this increase in the sense of
freedom and space. The openings of the arches, being the only free and
unconfined passageways through the south facade of the palace group,
provide the natural draft on this side for the interior courts. The air
rushes through at all times, even when no breeze is stirring outside.
This uncramped movement of air currents, far from being unpleasant,
gives the same sense of open freedom that one gets on a bold headland,
where the ocean winds whip the flowers and lay the grass flat.
From the court behind the Tower you see the mansioned hills of San
Francisco through the colonnades like panelled strips of painting; and,
looking northward, the long spaces over the bay to the great Marin hills
beyond.
The jewels on the Tower give it a singularly gay and lively touch when
the sun is bright and the wind blowing. The wind is seldom absent around
the top of so lofty a structure, and there these bits of glass are
always sparkling. At night they produce, under the strong white light of
a whole battery of giant reflectors hidden on other buildings, the
mystic haze that shrouds the Tower. They were a fine idea of the chief
of illumination, W. D'A. Ryan, giving just a touch of brilliance to an
Exposition otherwise clothed in soft tones. The jewels are only hard
glass, fifty thousand of them cut in Austria for the purpose, prismatic
in form, and each backed with a tiny mirror. Hung free to swing in the
wind, they sparkle and dance as they catch the sun from different
angles.
As the great gate to the Exposition, the Tower becomes historical in
relation to the event celebrated beyond its archway. Its purpose, from
this point of view, is to tell the entering visitor briefly of the
milestones along the way of time up to the digging of the Canal. Its
enrichment of sculpture, painting and inscription summarizes the story
of Panama and of the Pacific shore northward from the Isthmus. The
architect has expressed in its upper decorations something of the
feeling of Aztec art. The four inscriptions on the south faces of the
arches tell how Rodrigo de Bastides discovered Panama in 1501; how
Balboa first saw the Pacific Ocean in 1513; how the United States began
to dig the Canal in 1904, and opened it in 1915. The four on the north
faces epitomize the history of California, thus honored as the state
that commemorates the opening of the Canal. They speak of Cabrillo's
discovery of California in 1542, of the founding of the Mission of San
Francisco by Moraga, in 1776, of the acquisition of California by the
United States, 1846, and its admission to the Union in 1850.
The sculpture carries out the same idea. Pizarro and Cortez sit their
horses before the Tower, splendid figures of the Spanish conquerors, the
one by Charles C. Rumsey, the other by Charles Niehaus. (p. 48.) Above
the entablature of the supporting columns are repeated around the outer
wall of the arch, Adventurer and Priest, Philosopher and Soldier, types
of the men who won the Americas, all done by John Flanagan. Above the
cornice, the mounted figures by F. M. L. Tonetti are those of the
Spanish cavaliers, with bannered cross. The eagles stand for the Nation
that built the Canal. Excellent in spirit are Flanagan's figures of the
four types, especially that of the strikingly ascetic Priest. (p. 44.)
Besides their symbolism, the statues fulfill a useful architectural
purpose in relieving what would otherwise be the blankness of the wall.
But the same cannot be as truly said of the Armoured Horsemen above.
Vigorous as they are, they are not in the right place. They clutter up
the terrace on which they stand. The globe on the pinnacle, with its
band, signifies that now a girdle has been put around the earth.
On the side walls of the arch under the Tower, the murals by William de
Leftwich Dodge tell the story of the triumphant achievement which the
Exposition commemorates. On the east, the central panel pictures Neptune
and his attendant mermaid leading the fleets of the world through the
Gateway of All Nations. (p. 53.) On one side Labor, with its machines,
draws back from the completed task, and, on the other, the Intelligence
that conceived the work and the Science that made it possible, move
upward and onward, while a victorious trumpeter announces the triumph.
One figure, with covered face, flees from the appeal of the siren, but
whom he represents, or why he flees, I cannot tell.