CHAPTER XVIII.
THE PAN-AMERICAN EXPOSITION, 1901
The time had come for North and South America to unite in a noble enterprise illustrating their community of interests. United States people were deplorably ignorant of their southern neighbors, this accounting in part for the paucity of our trade with them. They knew as little of us. Our war with Spain had caused them some doubts touching our intentions toward the Spanish-Americans. An exposition was a hopeful means of bringing about mutual knowledge and friendliness. But the fair could not be ecumenical. At Chicago and Paris World’s Fairs had reached perhaps almost their final development. To compete in interest, so soon, with such vast displays, an exposition must specialize and condense.
On May 20th, the day of opening, a grand procession marched from Buffalo to the Exposition grounds. Inspired by the music of twenty bands representing various nations, the parade wound through the park gate up over the Triumphal Bridge into the Esplanade. As the doors of the Temple of Music were thrown open, ten thousand pigeons were released, which, wheeling round and round, soared away to carry in all directions their messages announcing that the Exposition had begun. The Hallelujah Chorus was rendered, when Vice-President Roosevelt delivered the dedicatory address.
The authors of the Pan-American, architects, landscape-gardeners, sculptors, painters, and electricians, aimed first of all to create a beautiful spectacle. Entering by the Park Gateway you passed from the Forecourt, attractive by its terraces and colonnades, to the Triumphal Bridge, a noble portal, with four monumental piers surmounted by equestrian figures, “The Standard-bearers.” This dignified entrance was in striking contrast with the gaudy and barbarous opening to the Paris Exposition. From the gate the whole panorama spread out before the eye. Down the long court with its fountains, gardens, and encircling buildings, you saw the Electric Tower soaring heavenward, fit expression of the mighty power from Niagara, which at night made it so glorious. The central court bore the form of a cross. At either side of the gate lay transverse courts, each adorned with a lake, fountains, and sunken gardens, and ending in curved groups of buildings. On the east was the Government Group; on the west that devoted to horticulture, mines, and the graphic arts. The intersection of the two arms formed the Esplanade, spacious enough for a quarter of a million people, and commanding a superb view. Connected by pergolas with the building in the transverse ends two structures, the Temple of Music and the Ethnology Building, stood like sentinels at the entrance to the Court of Fountains. A group of buildings enclosed this court, terminating in the Electric Tower at the north. From the Electric Tower round to the Gateway again all the buildings were joined by cool colonnades. Beyond the Tower was the Plaza, a charming little court, its sunken garden and band-stand surrounded by colonnades holding statuary.
The Electric Tower and Fountains.
The broad and spacious gardens with their wealth of verdure, their lakes, fountains, and statuary, formed a picture of indescribable charm. Nothing here suggested exhibits. Instead, spectators yielded to the spell of the beautiful scene. Chicago was serious and classic; Buffalo romantic, picturesque, even frivolous. The thought seemed to have been that, life in America being so intense, a rare holiday ought to bring diversion and amusement. No style of architecture could have contributed better to such gayety than the Spanish-Renaissance, light, ornate, and infinitely varied, lending itself to endless decoration in color and relief, and no more delicate compliment could have been paid our southern neighbors than this choice of their graceful and attractive designs. Each building was unique and original in plan. Domes, pinnacles, colonnades, balconies, towers, and low-tiled roofs afforded endless variety. The Electric Tower, designed by Mr. Howard, the central point in the scheme of architecture, its background of columns and its airy perforated walls and circular cupola with the Goddess of Light above, combined massiveness with lightness. Other buildings were strikingly quaint and pleasing, especially those suggesting the old Southern Missions. All blended into the general scheme with scarcely a discord. This harmony was not accidental, but resulted from combined effort, each architect working at a general plan, yet not sacrificing his individual taste. It was an object lesson in massive architecture, showing how easily public edifices may be made beautiful each in itself, and to increase each other’s beauty by artistic grouping.
The Ethnology Building and United States Government Building.
Perhaps the most novel feature of the Fair was the coloring. Charles Y. Turner’s colors-scheme, original and daring, called forth much criticism. With the Chicago White City the Rainbow City at Buffalo was a startling contrast. But the artist knew what he was doing when he boldly applied the gayest and brightest colors to buildings and columns, and added to the quaint architecture that bizarre and oriental touch in keeping with the festal purposes of the occasion. The rich, warm tones formed a perfect background for the white statuary, the green foliage, and the silvery fountains. The Temple of Music was a Pompeian red, Horticultural Hall orange, with details of blue, green, and yellow. The whole effect was fascinating, and at night, when the electric lights illumined and softened the tones, fairy-like.