Chapter 10
Concealed lights shine through the waters of the fountains. In the Court of the Universe they are white, the colorless brilliance of the stars; in the Court of Seasons they are green, the color of nature; in the Court of the Ages they are red, with clouds of rosy steam rising around them. Writhing serpents spout leaping gas flames on the altars set around the pool of the Ages, and from other altars set by the entrances of the Court rise clouds of steam given the semblance of flame by concealed red lights. By the high altar on the Tower of Ages the same device is used to make the lights flame like huge torches.
The palaces themselves are not lighted at night, though they have the appearance of being illuminated. Behind each window and doorway are hung strings of lights backed by reflectors. A soft glow of light comes forth, giving animation to the palaces and strengthening the picture outside.
There are two ways to see the Exposition at night, both of which must be followed if one is to get the fullest appreciation of the magic beauty of the lighting. One is to wander about the palaces and courts in the midst of the soft flood of mysterious light, watching the play of the fountains, the barbaric flames of the Court of Ages, the green shimmer of the waters in the Court of Seasons, the banners fluttering in strong white light, the statuary in changing hues according to the color screens used before the projectors, the Aurora Borealis above the Scintillator battery.
The other is from a distance. I have seen the illuminated Exposition from the top of Mount Tamalpais, whence it was a wondrous spectacle. But best of all I like to watch it from the hill at the corner of Broadway and Divisadero streets. It is best to go there early, before the lights are turned on. Then you may see the wonderful rosy glow of the Tower of Jewels and the two Italian towers before the white light of the projectors is flashed on them. Red incandescents are hidden behind all the columns of the Tower of Jewels and concealed in each of the Italian towers, as well as in the open spaces in and around the dome of Festival Hall. These are always turned on first. The Tower of Jewels then glows with a soft mellow red, less brilliant, but warmer and more colorful than its incandescence later on. The rich light wells up from the Italian towers and Festival Hall, and spreads from all their openings to stain the walls around with deep rose.
Then the ray of a searchlight falls on the Bowman atop the Column of Progress, silhouetting that heroic figure in the night as though he floated at a great height above the earth. Beams from other searchlights cause the Nations of East and West to stand out with startling distinctness on their triumphal arches; the great bulls of the Court of Seasons glow against the night; the golden fires are lighted in the Court of Ages. The tall masts around the palaces softly illuminate the walls. First one side and then another of the Tower of Jewels is bathed in white light, until the Tower stands out in ghostly radiance. Two slender shafts of light shoot upward on either side of the globe atop the Tower and stand there, symbols of pure aspiration reaching to the heavens. Behind it all the huge and many-colored fan of the Scintillator opens in gorgeous color in the northern sky.
The illumination is at its best on a misty night. Then its spectacular effects become more spectacular. The moisture in the air provides a screen to catch the colored lights and make them visible in their fullest beauty. The Exposition recognized this need of a background for the great beams of the Scintillator when it provided for the clouds of steam that are nightly sent floating upward through the shafts of colored light. Nothing brings out the wonder of the Court of Ages at night like mist or fog. On the first night that all the illumination was given a full rehearsal it was raining slightly. The incandescence of the great globe of the Earth, the leaping flames on the altars by the pool, the rosy clouds over the bowls by the entrances and from the torches on the high Altar of the Ages, became strange, mystic, almost uncanny.
Of the beautiful light that falls upon the Palace of Fine Arts (p. 137), I can do no better than to quote from Royal Cortissoz: "At night and illuminated, it might be a scene from Rome or from Egypt, a gigantic ruin of some masterpiece left by Emperor or Pharaoh. The lagoon is bordered by more of those heavenly hedges that I have described. There are trees and thickets to add to the bewilderment of the place, to make it veritably the silenzio verde of the poet. And with the ineffable tact which marks the lighting of the Fair, this serene spot is left almost, but not quite, to the dim loveliness of night. The glow that is given its full value elsewhere is here at its faintest. The pageant ends in a hush that is as much of the spirit as of the senses."
XIV.
Music at the Exposition
Early neglect of music by the Exposition management remedied by the appointment of George W. Stewart, of Boston, as manager--Engagements of Camille Saint-Saens and the Boston Symphony Orchestra the musical events of the summer--Original compositions by the French master--Sousa and his great band--Other notable bands--Lemare's organ concerts- Splendid choral performances by famous organizations--A half-million for music.
Music cannot be omitted from any scheme of mundane celebration. In an exposition of the character of this one, where all art has been given so high a place, this gift of the gods must assume an unusual importance. It is important here, not only as a means of entertainment, but as a means of cultural development, and as an intellectual factor in the evolution of the race. This Exposition justifies itself by its storehouses of knowledge. Its reason for existence is, the permanent advancement of the people of the world in all that art, science, and industry, can bring to its palaces for pleasurable study.
With the agreement that a great pipe organ was to be installed in Festival Hall, and that orchestras and bands were to be engaged, the early speculative musical labors of the directorate ended. Casual indeed was the attention paid to music during all of the early part of the pre-Exposition period. Material interests--and there were millions of them--cried for consideration, while the still, small voice of music was drowned in the clangor of construction. Just as music is the last of the arts to receive recognition at our universities, so it was neglected here until so much time had elapsed that only the most fortunate of accidents could give song and symphony their proper places among the wonders that were ultimately to find a home in the Jewel City. Fortunately, accident for once proved kind; vigorous direction emerged fortuitously from apathy.
In the early building period, President C. C. Moore turned aside from his other cares long enough to appoint J. B. Levison Chief of the Music Department. A better choice could hardly have been made. For more than two decades Mr. Levison, an able amateur in music, and a business man of high standing, had been identified with all of San Francisco's larger efforts in its musical life. But Mr. Levison's grasp of the importance of such a post was more comprehensive than President Moore's, for he refused the position. Fortunately, however, he had his attention directed to George W. Stewart, of Boston, a former artist of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, a man technically equipped, who had made a great success of the music at the St. Louis Exposition. Stewart was engaged, and to him is due the credit for the remarkable record music has already made at the Panama-Pacific Exposition.
Aside from the construction of the $50,000 pipe organ, which, after the Exposition, will be placed permanently in the Civic Auditorium, the two most important musical items found on the schedule of Exposition enterprises are the engagements of Camille Saint-Saens and the Boston Symphony Orchestra. The former, who maintained that "Beethoven is the greatest, the only real, artist, because he upheld the idea of universal brotherhood," is perhaps better fitted than any living composer to write special music for the Exposition. This he has done,--writing two compositions in fact; and their presentation has been an outstanding feature. "Hail, California," was dedicated to the Exposition. Scored for an orchestra of eighty, a military band of sixty, a chorus of 300 voices, pipe organ and piano, its first presentation was an event. The Saint-Saens Symphony in C minor (No. 3) Opus 78, composed many years ago, has become a classic during the life-time of its creator. It was one of the wonders of the Boston Symphony programmes played in Festival Hall. Its yield of immediate pleasure and its reassurance for the works of Saint-Saens to be heard later, grew from the fact that it was scored for orchestra and pipe organ, and in this massive tonal web the genius of the composer to write in magnificent size was overwhelmingly evident, thus forecasting the splendors of "Hail, California."
The other work written by this visitor from Paris is in oratorio form and titled, appropriately, "The Promised Land." A huge choir of 400 voices, directed by Wallace Sabin and named in honor of the visitor, the "Saint-Saens Choir," rendered a good account of the ensemble sections of the choral composition, while the Exposition orchestra of 80 instrumentalists and the Exposition organ added effectiveness to the accompaniment. Sabin presided at the organ. In addition to these appearances, the composer conducted three recitals during the latter part of June, when all of the compositions offered were his work.
The visit of Dr. Karl Muck with his Boston Symphony Orchestra has become a luminous memory. The trip is utterly new in the history of music anywhere, nothing like it ever before having been attempted. It is said that the transportation bills alone amounted to $15,000, and there were no stop-overs en route for concert performances to help in defraying this bulky first cost. It is proper to record here the financial success of the venture. While the season of twelve concerts was yet young, more than $40,000 had been taken in at the box office, and the estimated expenses of $60,000 were liquidated, with a margin of profit. This was enhanced by an extra concert, the thirteenth. Tickets for the season were sold in Chicago, New York, Boston, Seattle, Spokane, Tacoma, St. Louis, Portland, Maine, and Portland, Oregon, while San Francisco and the bay communities in general sent their thousands to the glorious recitals. The result will be seen in a stimulation of music in the West.
But the engagements of Saint-Saens and Dr. Muck with his orchestra do not sum up the important activities of the Exposition's music. There are other features which challenge even these in popular estimation.
John Philip Sousa has spent a long season at the Exposition. A blunder was somewhere made in dating the arrival of the March King and his splendid instrumentalists, who came while yet the Boston Symphonists were playing in Festival Hall. As a result the finest of bands was placed in competition with the finest of orchestras. But nothing disastrous happened. Those who desired, to the number of fifteen thousand, heard Sousa at his opening concert in the Court of the Universe; those who desired heard Dr. Muck's instrumentalists, to the seating capacity of Festival Hall.
Featured concerts have been and are being given by massed bands composed of Sousa's, Cassasa's, Conway's and other military or concert organizations.
Briefly, and regardless of the importance of each item, here are some of the attractions which make this Exposition vocal and harmonious: Edwin Henry Lemare, of London, by general critical agreement declared the greatest living organist, is expected here early in September, when he will begin his series of one hundred organ recitals, to continue till the Exposition closes in December. A unique episode of the Exposition music must not be overlooked in the recital by Madame Schumann-Heink, whose graciousness found another expression in her concert given exclusively and gratuitously to the children. More than three thousand of the little folk were in Festival Hall when the grandest of singers sang for them alone. The visit already accomplished of Gabriel Pares and his famous Republican Guard band of Paris; the engagement already begun of the Ogden Tabernacle Choir of 300 voices; the Eisteddfod competitive concerts; the long stay of the Philippine Constabulary band under the leadership of Captain W. H. Loving; Emil Mollenhauer's big Boston band; the concerts of the United Swedish Singers; the Apollo Music Club's premised visit from Chicago--the organization is coming intact with all of its 250 vocalists and its distinguished composer-conductor, Harrison M. Wild; La Loie Fuller's spectacles, and the engagement of forty noted organists to appear in Festival Hall in addition to Lemare and Clarence Eddy, are a few of the accomplished or promised attractions. To this list must be added the daily concerts given gratis at different periods by various bands other than those named--the official Exposition band of 45 players under the seasoned direction of Charles H. Cassasa; Thaviu's splendid band of 50; Conway's military and concert band of 50, and others yet to be had in the world of music will be spread for their delecta-concerts are booked. As proof of the worth of these, let the achievements of the recent past speak. We have heard the Alameda County 1915 Chorus of 250 voices under Alexander Stewart in a majestic performance of Handel's "Messiah;" the Exposition Chorus under Wallace Sabin in a repetition of the music sung as part of the opening day's celebration--"The Heavens are Telling," from Haydn's "Creation," and the official hymn--"A Noble Work"--by Mrs. H. H. A. Beach; the Berkeley Oratorio Society under the inspiring direction of Paul Steindorff in two splendid concerts, the first given to Rossini's "Stabat Mater" and the second to Brahms' "German Requiem;" and the Pacific Choral Society's performance of Haydn's "Creation" under the musicianly leadership of Warren B. Allen. More music may confidently be looked for from these rich sources.
The Exposition authorities declare that half a million dollars will have been expended on music before the end of the life of the great enterprise. Thus visitors to the Exposition may come at any period of the Jewel City's existence, knowing that the best to be had in the world of music will be spread for their delectation, and that they will be afforded a comprehensive view of the art of tone as it exists today. In this respect the Exposition's musical "exhibit" is similar in its scope to the revealments in all its other departments; for the Exposition is avowedly devoted to contemporaneous rather than historic achievements.
Nothing that extends contemplation over a wider period than the last five years is admitted for competitive exhibition. The modern composer, no less than the modern inventor, is having his day at the Exposition. This is as it should be. We are hearing, have heard, or will hear, the last utterances of present-day musical creators. Indeed, in the case of one--Saint-Saens--we heard, as I have recounted, two massive compositions written expressly for the Panama-Pacific International Exposition, and John Philip Sousa has bent his most martial mood to the composition of an inspiring march which is called "Panama." But music also enjoys a privilege not accorded equally to any other department of Exposition display. The works of the past, as well as the present, are given. A history of music at the Exposition properly written--as one surely should be--would be an epitome of the evolution of the art from Cherubini, Haydn and Bach to Richard Strauss, Saint-Saens and Debussy. It would involve in its telling the stories of music in Italy, Germany, Austria, England, France, Russia, Scandinavia, yes, and America, too! It would include an account of the genealogy of the modern orchestra as exemplified in the Boston Symphony or the Official Symphony, and of military bands up to the perfected concert organizations headed by a Sousa or a Gabriel Pares. It would embrace with like inclusiveness the history of the pipe organ through its stages of evolution from the ponderous instruments with men straddling unwieldy bellows to the marvel installed in Festival Hall, and it would embrace the history of the art of organ music up to such exemplars as our own Clarence Eddy, John &. McClellan, Edwin Lemare, and Camille Saint-Saens. What a chapter would be set aside for the record of Exposition choral music! Already there has gone abroad from the Festival Hall an impetus towards better chorus music that will, I feel sure, firmly establish this somewhat neglected department of musical art in the far West.
XV.
Inside the Exhibit Palaces
All competitive exhibits strictly contemporaneous, showing the arts of to-day--Revolution worked by the motion-picture theater in exhibition methods--The lessons of Machinery Palace--Coal and steam fast yielding to liquid fuels and waterpower and electricity--Life-saving devices, accident prevention and employees' welfare made prominent in Palaces of Machinery and Mines--A contrast in locomotives--Building a motor car every ten minutes--Co-operative exhibits in Food-Products Palace--Many great displays by the United States Government--Educational exhibits not duplicated, each state or city showing its specialty.
In its industrial displays, as well as its art, the Exposition keeps steadily in view the fact that it commemorates a contemporary event; it is contemporaneous, not historical. Hence it was decreed from the first that the exhibits must be the products of the last decade, a rule strictly observed save in rare cases where older forms have been admitted for comparison. The result is two-fold. The exhibits are condensed to the essential, giving room for a greater number of exhibitors; and the progress of the world is shown as of today.
Eleven palaces house the exhibits, exclusive of live stock. Officially, the things shown in the state and foreign buildings are not "exhibits," but "displays," and are not eligible for award. In general, the names of the palaces indicate the classes of exhibits to be found in them. No sharp line, however, can be drawn between the Palaces of Manufactures and Varied Industries, or between Agriculture and Food Products. In other cases there is some overlapping of classes. One section of the Liberal Arts exhibit is in the Palace of Machinery.
A striking feature of almost all the palaces, and one that differentiates this Exposition from its great predecessors of a decade or more ago, is the common use of the moving-picture machine as the fastest and most vivid method of displaying human activities and scenery. Everywhere it is showing industrial processes. Former expositions, for want of this device, have been mainly exhibitions of products. These have hitherto been shown in such bulk as to fill vast floor spaces and become a weariness to the flesh, while it was impossible, from the nature of things, to exhibit the great primary industries of field, forest, sea and mine in actual operation. The motion-picture machine has not only lessened the areas of products shown, thus making this Exposition more compact than former ones; but it has increased the effectiveness of exhibition methods by carrying the spectator, figuratively, into the midst of operations, and showing him men at work in all the important processes of agriculture, in the logging camps, in mines and fisheries, as well as in the mills and factories where the raw materials of these basic industries are worked into finished products. Its value for showing scenery, too, is fully utilized here. Many of the states and foreign countries employ it. Even faraway Siam uses it to instruct the Occident concerning her resources and people. Counting those in the state and foreign buildings, seventy-seven free moving-picture halls are to be found within the Exposition. Their efficiency is indicated by the crowds that throng them daily.
The Palace of Machinery holds three lessons for the observer. It shows not only the state of man's invention at the present moment, the increasing displacement of coal by hydroelectric plants and liquid fuels, but what is perhaps more significant, the changing direction of invention toward devices for human betterment. The Diesel oil engine and multitudes of electrical machines stand for the latest word in mechanical invention. The Diesel again, with a host of other internal combustion engines, the electric motors and waterpower plants, and the absence of steam machines, bear witness to the downfall of steam. But the great space given to safety devices, to labor-saving machines, to road-making machinery, and to mechanical devices for increasing the comfort of country life, are evidence of the part machinery is coming to play in the task of making life more livable. As an exhibition of modern mechanical invention, Machinery Hall is unique, as all this Exposition is unique. There is almost nothing in it that is not the product of the last ten years; it actually represents construction of the last two years. Indeed, the wholly contemporary nature of the exhibits leaves the visitor without visible means of comparison.
As at the Centennial Exhibition in 1876, a prime mover is the central figure in the building. There it was the immense Corliss steam engine. Here it is a Diesel, started by President Wilson by wireless on the opening day, and generating all the direct current used in the palace. Another commanding exhibit is a 20,000 horsepower hydro-electric generator, significant of the modern use of water-power. The United States Government is the largest exhibitor in the building, with numerous fine models of warships, docks, dams and submarine mines; torpedoes, artillery, armorplate and shells, army equipment, ammunition-making machinery in operation, light-houses and aids to navigation, and a splendid set of models illustrating road-making methods. Crowded out of its proper place in the Palace of Liberal Arts, the exhibit of the printing trades occupies a section here, including a huge color press turning out illustrated Sunday supplements.
The Palace of Mines and Metallurgy offers ample evidence of the great figure which steel now makes in the world, and of the vast extent of the petroleum industry. Here, too, as in Machinery Hall, accident prevention is emphasized. From this point of view insurance exhibits are not out of place here. The United States Steel Corporation, with its subsidiary companies, shows in this palace the largest single exhibit seen in the Exposition, save those of the United States Government. Noteworthy are its excellent models of iron and coal-mining plants, coke ovens. furnaces, rolling mills, docks, ships, and barges, and an extensive section devoted to the welfare of employees, with model playgrounds.
Many states and nations, and many world-famous mining companies are represented by exhibits of ores and metals, of mine models, and mining and metallurgical processes in operation. California shows a gold dredger and a hydraulic mine in operation. The great copper mines of California, Montana, Utah, and Japan, have installed significant exhibits. The United States Government operates in this palace a model mint, a model post office, and features a daily "mine explosion," with a demonstration of rescue work.