The City of Domes [20]
not thrust itself on you, and yet it is plain enough. That woman and man pushing up flowers at the feet of the girl make a beautiful conception. The whole fountain has an ingenuousness that is in key with the subject. Across the way," he went on, turning to view the Fountain of El Dorado, by Mrs. Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, "there's a piece of work much more sophisticated and dramatic, fine in its conception and strong in handling. No one would say offhand that it was the work of a woman; and yet it shows none of the overstrain that sometimes characterizes a woman artist when she wishes her work to seem masculine."
In approaching the "El Dorado" we noted the skill shown in the details of the conception. "This fountain might have been called 'The Land of Gold,' in plain English, or 'The Struggle for Happiness,' or by any other name that suggested competition for what people valued as the prizes of life. When Mrs. Whitney was asked to explain whether those trees in the background represented the tree of life, she said she didn't have any such idea in her mind. What she probably wanted to do was to present an imaginative scene that each observer could interpret for himself. These two Egyptian-looking guardians at the doors, with the figures kneeling by them, suggest plainly enough the futility that goes with so much of our struggling in the world. So often people reach the edge of their goal without really getting what they want."
V
The Court of the Universe
Through the arch we passed into the neck of the Court of the Universe, which charmed us by the warmth of its coloring, by McLaren's treatment of the sunken garden, by its shape, by the use of the dark pointed cypress trees against the walls, and by the sweep of view across the great court to the Marina, broken, however, by the picturesque and inharmonious Arabic bandstand. We glanced at the inscriptions at the base of the tower carrying on the history of the Canal to its completion. Then we stopped before those graceful little elephants bearing Guerin's tall poles with their streamers. "That little fellow is a gem in his way. He comes from Rome. But the heavy pole on his back is almost too much for him. He's used pretty often on the grounds, but not too often. After the Exposition is over we ought to keep these figures for the Civic Center. They would be very ornamental in the heart of the city."
As we walked toward the main court, the architect called my attention to the view between the columns on the other side of the Tower of Jewels, with the houses of the city running down the hills. "San Francisco architecture may not be beautiful when you study individual houses. But in mass it is fine. And, of a late afternoon, it is particularly good in coloring. It seems to be enveloped in a rich purple haze. That color might have given the mural decorators a hint. It would have been effective in the midst of all this high-keyed architecture. It's easy here to imagine that you're in one of those ancient Hindu towns where the gates are closed at night. You almost expect to see camels and elephants."
What was most striking in the Court was its immensity. "Though it comes from Bernini's entrance court to St. Peter's in Rome, it is much bigger. There are those who think it's too big. But it justifies itself by its splendor. The use of the double row of columns is particularly happy. The double columns were greatly favored by the Romans. In St. Peter's Bernini used four in a row. And what could be finer than those two triumphal arches on either side, the Arch of the Rising Sun and the Arch of the Setting Sun, with their double use of symbolism, in suggesting the close relation between California and the Orient, as well as their geographical meaning? They are, of course, importations from Rome, the Arch of Constantine and the Arch of Titus all over again, with a rather daring use of windows with colored lattices to give them lightness and with colossal groups of almost startling proportions used in place of the Roman chariot or quadriga."
Originally, the
In approaching the "El Dorado" we noted the skill shown in the details of the conception. "This fountain might have been called 'The Land of Gold,' in plain English, or 'The Struggle for Happiness,' or by any other name that suggested competition for what people valued as the prizes of life. When Mrs. Whitney was asked to explain whether those trees in the background represented the tree of life, she said she didn't have any such idea in her mind. What she probably wanted to do was to present an imaginative scene that each observer could interpret for himself. These two Egyptian-looking guardians at the doors, with the figures kneeling by them, suggest plainly enough the futility that goes with so much of our struggling in the world. So often people reach the edge of their goal without really getting what they want."
V
The Court of the Universe
Through the arch we passed into the neck of the Court of the Universe, which charmed us by the warmth of its coloring, by McLaren's treatment of the sunken garden, by its shape, by the use of the dark pointed cypress trees against the walls, and by the sweep of view across the great court to the Marina, broken, however, by the picturesque and inharmonious Arabic bandstand. We glanced at the inscriptions at the base of the tower carrying on the history of the Canal to its completion. Then we stopped before those graceful little elephants bearing Guerin's tall poles with their streamers. "That little fellow is a gem in his way. He comes from Rome. But the heavy pole on his back is almost too much for him. He's used pretty often on the grounds, but not too often. After the Exposition is over we ought to keep these figures for the Civic Center. They would be very ornamental in the heart of the city."
As we walked toward the main court, the architect called my attention to the view between the columns on the other side of the Tower of Jewels, with the houses of the city running down the hills. "San Francisco architecture may not be beautiful when you study individual houses. But in mass it is fine. And, of a late afternoon, it is particularly good in coloring. It seems to be enveloped in a rich purple haze. That color might have given the mural decorators a hint. It would have been effective in the midst of all this high-keyed architecture. It's easy here to imagine that you're in one of those ancient Hindu towns where the gates are closed at night. You almost expect to see camels and elephants."
What was most striking in the Court was its immensity. "Though it comes from Bernini's entrance court to St. Peter's in Rome, it is much bigger. There are those who think it's too big. But it justifies itself by its splendor. The use of the double row of columns is particularly happy. The double columns were greatly favored by the Romans. In St. Peter's Bernini used four in a row. And what could be finer than those two triumphal arches on either side, the Arch of the Rising Sun and the Arch of the Setting Sun, with their double use of symbolism, in suggesting the close relation between California and the Orient, as well as their geographical meaning? They are, of course, importations from Rome, the Arch of Constantine and the Arch of Titus all over again, with a rather daring use of windows with colored lattices to give them lightness and with colossal groups of almost startling proportions used in place of the Roman chariot or quadriga."
Originally, the