The San Diego and San Francisco Expositions
Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco
SCULPTURE AT ENTRANCE OF
THE FESTIVAL HALL
BY SHERRY E. FRY
cient to convince you of the eclec¬
tic character of the architecture of
the San Francisco Exposition. En¬
tering from Scott Street you find
yourself in a stately formal garden
which is French in inspiration. To
the left is the Palace of Horticul¬
ture, Byzantine in origin and Gallic
in ornamentation. On the right is
Festival Hall, which recalls the
Theatre des Beaux-Arts, Paris. Di¬
rectly facing you is the Tower of
Jewels, which bases itself upon vari¬
ous Italian Renaissance prototypes.
Recalling the spacious area in front
of St. Peter’s in Rome, the Court
of the Universe is also Italian
Renaissance in persuasion, while
the pardonably pretentious Column
of Progress resembles similar shafts
dedicated to Trajan and Marcus
Aurelius. It would be superfluous
to trace in detail the genealogy of
the exposition architecture. You
have the intricacy of Spanish Gothic,
the massive simplicity of the Ro-
manesque, the fertility of the
Renaissance, and that serenity of
spirit which was the imperishable
legacy of the Greeks. From the
standpoint of serious criticism, if
such an attitude be not incompatible with our
theme, the best efforts are the Palace of Horticul-
ture and the Palace of Fine Arts. The former is
one of the most diverting and satisfactory of the
entire group. The latter, for breadth of conception
and nobility of design, stands unapproached. A
special feature has been made of the several con-
tiguous courts, all of which have been given
euphonious names. They vary in merit and in
general may be said to be more expositional than
inspirational.
There are eleven units in the central plan, eight
of which are assembled within the so-called
“walled city.” To each of these, the basic
tonality of which is the now popular travertine,
the director of colour has applied his favourite
tints. Beyond question the result is stimulating
and in the main aesthetically successful. The least
variegated and most effective is the Palace of
Horticulture, where the only colour used is lattice
green. In a building such as the Palace of Fine
Arts the structural integrity has not been en-
hanced by the profuse employment of ochre, pale
green, burnt orange and Indian red. Granting
the purely ephemeral nature of the task in hand
it nevertheless seems that colour should, on
principle, be less superficial than inherent. Mr.
Guerin’s inspiration is frankly scenic. He has
given us a pastel city, joyously polychromatic,
replete with beauty and of rainbow evanescence.
It is difficult to plan an exposition such as the
Panama-Pacific without facing certain serious
issues, not the least of which may be designated
as the plastic problem. Boldly to suppress sculp-
ture as they did at San Diego was, of course, out
of the question in an undertaking of the present
pretension. There was apparently nothing to do
save adhere to the customary symbolic tradition,
to fall back upon perennial abstractions more or
less concisely embodied in relief or in the round.
The sculpture at San Francisco, while suffering
from the usual congenital defects, is, however,
IV
Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco
SCULPTURE AT ENTRANCE OF
THE FESTIVAL HALL
BY SHERRY E. FRY
cient to convince you of the eclec¬
tic character of the architecture of
the San Francisco Exposition. En¬
tering from Scott Street you find
yourself in a stately formal garden
which is French in inspiration. To
the left is the Palace of Horticul¬
ture, Byzantine in origin and Gallic
in ornamentation. On the right is
Festival Hall, which recalls the
Theatre des Beaux-Arts, Paris. Di¬
rectly facing you is the Tower of
Jewels, which bases itself upon vari¬
ous Italian Renaissance prototypes.
Recalling the spacious area in front
of St. Peter’s in Rome, the Court
of the Universe is also Italian
Renaissance in persuasion, while
the pardonably pretentious Column
of Progress resembles similar shafts
dedicated to Trajan and Marcus
Aurelius. It would be superfluous
to trace in detail the genealogy of
the exposition architecture. You
have the intricacy of Spanish Gothic,
the massive simplicity of the Ro-
manesque, the fertility of the
Renaissance, and that serenity of
spirit which was the imperishable
legacy of the Greeks. From the
standpoint of serious criticism, if
such an attitude be not incompatible with our
theme, the best efforts are the Palace of Horticul-
ture and the Palace of Fine Arts. The former is
one of the most diverting and satisfactory of the
entire group. The latter, for breadth of conception
and nobility of design, stands unapproached. A
special feature has been made of the several con-
tiguous courts, all of which have been given
euphonious names. They vary in merit and in
general may be said to be more expositional than
inspirational.
There are eleven units in the central plan, eight
of which are assembled within the so-called
“walled city.” To each of these, the basic
tonality of which is the now popular travertine,
the director of colour has applied his favourite
tints. Beyond question the result is stimulating
and in the main aesthetically successful. The least
variegated and most effective is the Palace of
Horticulture, where the only colour used is lattice
green. In a building such as the Palace of Fine
Arts the structural integrity has not been en-
hanced by the profuse employment of ochre, pale
green, burnt orange and Indian red. Granting
the purely ephemeral nature of the task in hand
it nevertheless seems that colour should, on
principle, be less superficial than inherent. Mr.
Guerin’s inspiration is frankly scenic. He has
given us a pastel city, joyously polychromatic,
replete with beauty and of rainbow evanescence.
It is difficult to plan an exposition such as the
Panama-Pacific without facing certain serious
issues, not the least of which may be designated
as the plastic problem. Boldly to suppress sculp-
ture as they did at San Diego was, of course, out
of the question in an undertaking of the present
pretension. There was apparently nothing to do
save adhere to the customary symbolic tradition,
to fall back upon perennial abstractions more or
less concisely embodied in relief or in the round.
The sculpture at San Francisco, while suffering
from the usual congenital defects, is, however,
IV