Art-Lovers guide to the Exposition | Page 3

there is generally a feeling of Renaissance freedom in the decoration. One court is in a wonderful new sort of Spanish Gothic, perfectly befitting California. In the styles of architecture, as in the symbolism of painting and sculpture and in the exhibits, one feels that the East and West have met, with a new fusion of national ideals and forms.
The material used in the buildings is a composition, partaking of the nature of both plaster and concrete, made in imitation of Travertine, a much-prized building marble of Italy. This composition has the warm ochre tone and porous texture of the original stone, thus avoiding the unpleasant smoothness and glare which characterize stucco, the usual Exposition material.
Sculpture
In one way more than any other, the sculpture here surpasses that of other expositions: it is an integral part of the larger artistic conception. It not only tells its individual stories freely and beautifully, but it fits perfectly into the architectural scheme, adding the decorative touch and the human element without which the architecture would seem bare.
The late Karl Bitter was chief of the department of sculpture, and although there is no single example of his work on the grounds, it was he who, more than any other, insisted upon a close relationship between the architecture and the sculpture. A. Stirling Calder was acting chief, and he had charge of the actual work of enlarging the models of the various groups and placing each one properly.
The material of the sculptures is the same as that of the buildings, Travertine, thus adding to the close relationship of the two.
Mural Paintings
The mural paintings as a whole are not so fine as either the architecture or the sculpture. The reason can be traced perhaps to the fact that painting does not readily bow to architectural limitations. In this case the artists, with the exception of Frank Brangwyn, who painted the canvases for the Court of Abundance, were limited to a palette of five colors, in order that the panels should harmonize with the larger color scheme.
Color
Never before was there an exposition in which color played such a part. Here for the first time a director of color was placed above architect and sculptor and painter. Jules Guerin, chief of color decoration, has said that he went to work just as a painter starts to lay out a great picture, establishing the warm buff of the building walls as a ground tone, and considering each dome or tower or portal as a detail which should add its brilliant or subdued note to the color harmony. Not only do the paintings and sculpture take proper place in the tone scheme, but every bit of planting, every strip of lawn and every bed of flowers or shrubs, has its duty to perform as color accent or foil. Even the gravel of the walks was especially chosen to shade in with the general plan.
As seen from the heights above the Exposition-and no visitor should go away without seeing this view-the grounds have the appearance of a great Oriental rug. The background color is warm buff, with various shades of dull red against it, accented by domes and columns of pale green, with occasional touches of blue and pink to heighten the effect.
In the courts the columns and outer walls are in the buff, or old ivory, tone, while the walls inside the colonnades have a "lining color" of Pompeian red; the ceilings are generally cerulean blue; the cornices are touched with orange, blue and gold; and occasional columns of imitation Siena marble, and bronzed statues, set off the whole.
In connection with the color scheme, great credit must be given to John McLaren, chief of the department of landscape gardening, who has worked so successfully in co-operation with architects and color director. The Exposition is built almost entirely on filled ground, just reclaimed from the bay; and it was a colossal task to set out the hundreds of thousands of flowers, shrubs and trees which now make the gardens seem permanent, and which set off the architecture so perfectly.
Lighting
When one's soul has been drenched all day in the beauty of courts and palaces and statues and paintings, dusk is likely to bring welcome rest; but when the lights begin to appear there comes a new experience-a world made over, and yet quite as beautiful as the old. Walls are lost where least interesting, bits of architecture are brought out in relief against the velvet sky, and sculptures take on a new softness and loveliness of form. Under the wonderfully developed system of indirect illumination, no naked light is seen by the eye; only the soft reflected glow, intense when desired, but never glaring. If this lighting is not in itself an art, it is at least the informing spirit that turns prose