Descending Night

Adolph Alexander Weinman, Sculptor

The figure on the page opposite is a beautiful lyric poem.  She might be called “A Hymn to the Night.”  Every line of her figure is musical, every move suggested, rhythmical.  Seen at night, she croons you a slumber song.  How subtly Mr. Weinman has told you that she comes to fold the world within her wings — to create thru her desire a “still and pulseless world.”  The muscles are all lax — the head is drooping, the arms are closing in around the face, the wings are folding, the knees are bending — and she too will soon sink to slumber with the world in her arms.  What a fine contrast of feeling between the tense young “Sun” and relaxed “Descending Night.”

Winter

Furio Piccirilli, Sculptor

Naked Winter stands before you.  It is the period of the year when the leaves are of the trees and the bark is splitting.  After the activities of autumn man is resting.  The fruits have been gathered — the golden apples and the purple grapes — so man’s labors have ceased.  It is the period of conception.  The sower has just cast forth the seed.  Mother Earth will nurture the little seed until the cold winter has passed and the warm sunshine comes again to give each clod its “stir of might.”

The Portals of El Dorado

Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, Sculptor

There was once among the South American tribes a belief that in a certain far-off country lived a king called El Dorado, the Gilded One.  He ruled over a region where gold and precious stones were found in abundance.  The story influenced a vast number of adventurers who led expeditions to seek the land of golden treasure; but notwithstanding the fact that their searched most carefully and for long periods, they all failed to find it.  The idea of the unattainable gave the suggestion to Mrs. Whitney for her fountain.  The gold of El Dorado was used as a symbol of all material advantages which we so strongly desire — wealth, power, fame, et cetera.

Panel of the Fountain of El Dorado

Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, Sculptor

In the panel are seen men and women in their mad race for the unattainable.  Many have had a glimpse of the Gilded One, and are rushing on to pass the mysterious gate behind which the desires of life await them.  Some faint by the roadside or stop in their race for the goal to contend or to loiter by the way, but those nearest the El Dorado increase their speed.  Beside the gateway that has only just allowed the Gilded One to pass thru are two mortals who have come close to the land of their desires, but only to find the door shut and slaves beside it barring the way.  Their strength is expended, their courage gone in the long race for material things.