The City of Domes [37]
in the way of stained glass, and they have a wonderful depth and brilliancy."
As we drew near the Avenue of Progress we saw the magnificent doorway of the Varied Industries, overladen with ornamentation. "It was clever of Faville to put that doorway just in this spot where it would be seen by the crowds that entered by Fillmore Street. It comes from the Santa Cruz Hospital, in Toledo, Spain, built by the Spanish architect, De Egas, for Cardinal Mendoza, one of the most famous portals in Europe. The adaptation has been wonderfully done by Ralph Stackpole, with those figures of the American workman carrying a pick at either side and the semicircular panel just above the door and the group on top. That panel is one of the finest pieces of sculpture in the Exposition. It has tenderness and reverence. It's the kind of thing the mediaeval sculptors who worked on religious themes would have been enthusiastic over. See how simple it is, just a group of workers, with the emblems of their work, the women spinning with the lamb close by, the artist and the artisan, and the woman with the design of a vessel's prow in her hands, suggesting commerce. The single figure in the center is the intelligent workman who works with his hands and knows how to work, too. The group on top is a very pretty conception, the Old World Handing Its Burden to the Younger World, with its suggestions of the European people coming over here and raising American children."
XIV
The Palace of Machinery
On reaching the Avenue of Progress we found ourselves at the gayest corner of the Exposition, with two fine vistas of the two avenues. To our right stood the massive Palace of Machinery, one of the largest buildings in the world, so successfully treated by the architect that it did not give the faintest suggestion of being cumbersome or monotonous. "It's the Baths of Caracalla in Rome," said the architect, "adapted by a master. Those three gables above the main entrance are taken directly from the baths. See how simple the ornamentation is and yet how satisfying. The building as a whole is a perfect example of old Roman architecture, feeling its way toward the big architectural principles that are in vogue today, among others the economical principle involved in the counteracting of thrusts. If the Roman Emperor who was nicknamed Caracalla on account of the hooded military tunic that he made fashionable in his day hadn't built those baths we should probably not have the glorious Pennsylvania station in New York, that some of the architectural authorities consider the most important building of its kind built in this country. Although the work here is all concrete, Clarence Ward, the architect, says that with care, it could last hundreds of years."
Now we were struck by those vigorous-looking figures, by Haig Patigian, that stood on top of the Sienna columns all evidently designed to express the power of machinery. At the entrance the reliefs of the columns were in the same spirit and, as one might have surmised, by the same sculptor working out the meaning of the buildings in designs that kept the contour of the columns, strong and well-modeled.
"There's distinctive character in this building," said the architect. "It actually conveys the sense of tremendous energy, and by the simplest means. And inside, Ward has done something new and interesting."
When we entered we found the supports of the roof left bare. Instead of being unsightly, they had a kind of beauty and impressiveness. "Observe the magnificence of the spaces here on the floor and up to the ceiling. Some one asked Ward if all this height were necessary. He said it wasn't; but he wanted it for pictorial effect, to carry out the feeling of massiveness and splendor."
In the great figures that stood on the columns in front of the Palace of Machinery the architect found a theme for a discourse on the human figure as the chief inspiration of art. "It is possible that we shall change our minds on that subject," he remarked. "Already the world is showing a tendency to get away
As we drew near the Avenue of Progress we saw the magnificent doorway of the Varied Industries, overladen with ornamentation. "It was clever of Faville to put that doorway just in this spot where it would be seen by the crowds that entered by Fillmore Street. It comes from the Santa Cruz Hospital, in Toledo, Spain, built by the Spanish architect, De Egas, for Cardinal Mendoza, one of the most famous portals in Europe. The adaptation has been wonderfully done by Ralph Stackpole, with those figures of the American workman carrying a pick at either side and the semicircular panel just above the door and the group on top. That panel is one of the finest pieces of sculpture in the Exposition. It has tenderness and reverence. It's the kind of thing the mediaeval sculptors who worked on religious themes would have been enthusiastic over. See how simple it is, just a group of workers, with the emblems of their work, the women spinning with the lamb close by, the artist and the artisan, and the woman with the design of a vessel's prow in her hands, suggesting commerce. The single figure in the center is the intelligent workman who works with his hands and knows how to work, too. The group on top is a very pretty conception, the Old World Handing Its Burden to the Younger World, with its suggestions of the European people coming over here and raising American children."
XIV
The Palace of Machinery
On reaching the Avenue of Progress we found ourselves at the gayest corner of the Exposition, with two fine vistas of the two avenues. To our right stood the massive Palace of Machinery, one of the largest buildings in the world, so successfully treated by the architect that it did not give the faintest suggestion of being cumbersome or monotonous. "It's the Baths of Caracalla in Rome," said the architect, "adapted by a master. Those three gables above the main entrance are taken directly from the baths. See how simple the ornamentation is and yet how satisfying. The building as a whole is a perfect example of old Roman architecture, feeling its way toward the big architectural principles that are in vogue today, among others the economical principle involved in the counteracting of thrusts. If the Roman Emperor who was nicknamed Caracalla on account of the hooded military tunic that he made fashionable in his day hadn't built those baths we should probably not have the glorious Pennsylvania station in New York, that some of the architectural authorities consider the most important building of its kind built in this country. Although the work here is all concrete, Clarence Ward, the architect, says that with care, it could last hundreds of years."
Now we were struck by those vigorous-looking figures, by Haig Patigian, that stood on top of the Sienna columns all evidently designed to express the power of machinery. At the entrance the reliefs of the columns were in the same spirit and, as one might have surmised, by the same sculptor working out the meaning of the buildings in designs that kept the contour of the columns, strong and well-modeled.
"There's distinctive character in this building," said the architect. "It actually conveys the sense of tremendous energy, and by the simplest means. And inside, Ward has done something new and interesting."
When we entered we found the supports of the roof left bare. Instead of being unsightly, they had a kind of beauty and impressiveness. "Observe the magnificence of the spaces here on the floor and up to the ceiling. Some one asked Ward if all this height were necessary. He said it wasn't; but he wanted it for pictorial effect, to carry out the feeling of massiveness and splendor."
In the great figures that stood on the columns in front of the Palace of Machinery the architect found a theme for a discourse on the human figure as the chief inspiration of art. "It is possible that we shall change our minds on that subject," he remarked. "Already the world is showing a tendency to get away