PARK AND CEMETERY. 
130 
came to Air. Mulligan ap' the result- of a first hand study 
of the Colorado miner. The great mass of stratified rock, 
roughly outlined, is filled with the half-imprisoned 
Spirits of the mines. These wistful, elusive forms emerge 
from every ledge and projection, the restless companions 
and the inspiration of the sturdy miner who sits enthroned 
on one of the ledges beneath a cliff-like mass, jutting out 
from the center of the composition. The rugged grandeur 
of the mountains, the barren wildness of the miner’s life, 
and the human beauty of his dreams all find expression in 
this remarkable work. The figure of the man is the only 
one that is wrought out clearly, the fragments of the beau- 
tiful female forms merging into the mass so compactly 
as not to disturb the symmetry of the group outline. One 
could scarcely conceive a more appropriate or inspiring 
fountain conception for the civic center of some mining 
city than this colossally ingenious work wrought into 
stone or bronze, with the vaguely outlined figures veiled 
in water. That such an ambitious composition could have 
been completed for art’s sake is a rare record of industry 
as well as of art, for the work stands 35 feet high, 25 by 16 
feet at the base, and embodies thirty figures. This group in 
itself is an impressive lesson in practical sculpture for out- 
door decoration, and is a fair example of the training in real 
work that has made possible this original exposition. 
Nearby is another piece, which with the mining group, 
makes this exhibit of national importance to art. This is 
Mr. Lorado Taft’s “The Blind,” set in a thickly wooded 
corner where walk and drive meet. The theme is a sculp- 
tural expression of Maeterlinck’s allegorical drama, “The 
Blind.” As the action of the- play progresses, gloom set- 
tles over all, and the figures are drawn closer for mutual 
protection. They cling to each other in expectancy and 
fear. All are held by agony and suspense, and the group 
becomes unified. Then the young girl with the faith of 
youth, recognizes in the sob of the child a promise of 
salvation. “The child sees; the child will lead us,” she 
cries exultantly and snatching the little one from its mad 
mother’s arms, lifts it high to find the guiding gleam of 
light. Even the deaf mute whose arms are seen raised 
above the heads of the others, is at last awakened from 
his sleep, and sends up a wail of despair. This is the mo- 
ment the sculptor has seized and fixed in plastic form. 
The action might well have taken place in some such 
wooded spot as the one selected for this group and the 
effect is dramatic in the extreme. The composition is 
simple and unified to the last degree. Although embody- 
ing some ten forms it is as compact as a single figure. 
Every accessory detail has been subordinated to the in- 
tense rendering of the faces. The clothing is sketched in 
broad, full lines, and the flat, simple planes and blank 
spaces act as foils to the few elaborated parts. Probably 
no ideal work of sculpture in recent years has made so 
profound an impression on artist and layman alike as this 
powerful, elemental conception. It deserves to rank with 
Daniel C. French’s “Death and the Sculptor,” or Saint- 
Gaudens’ mysterious figure of “Grief.” 
Solon H. Borglum’s Rough Rider monument to Bucky 
O’Neil, the original of which stands at Prescott, Ariz., is 
represented by the full sized cast. As one of the most 
successful examples of action and balance in sculpture, it 
comports w^ell with its informal setting of green lawn and 
trees. It is a characteristic example of Mr. Borglum’s well 
known plastic studies of western life, set in Nature’s open 
as the true plainsman would like to see it. 
Following the drive to where it divides its curved course 
into two branches, a vantage point for several other works 
is found. Betweerr the two roads, backed by tall trees is 
Lincoln, The Raih Splitter, one of the most intimate and 
hmnan of our Lincolns, the work of Mr. Charles J. Mulli- 
gan. The stiff, frock-coated Lincolns that dot the country 
give strong evidence of the struggle between art and por- 
traiture and here finally is a happy compromise, a truthful 
portrait of the man at the most picturesque point in his 
career, and an equally successful idealized type of pioneer. 
The sculptor has found in this figure a rare opportunity 
to fuse his portrait studies of Lincoln into one of the 
sterling types of American labor which have been his 
most distinctive work. 
On the opposite side of the drive sits Mr. Taft’s Chief 
Paducah, enthroned on a rock, resting his arms on a tablet 
in the form of a conventionalized arrow head. The strong 
head and shoulders; the well-studied mass of the group, 
rising from a graceful, tastefully decorated pedestal, make 
a composition as pleasing in detail as it is successful in 
the large effects necessary to an outdoor monumental 
fountain. It has been executed in Georgia marble and 
erected in Paducah, Ky. 
George E. Ganiere’s “The Toilers,” near by, is a group 
of good construction and modeling. The two fishermen 
hauling away at the net furnish an excellent theme for a 
muscular study of laboring men in action and the expres- 
sion of extreme exertion is well rendered. It is given a 
good setting in the landscape, but might have more ap- 
propriately been placed in the center of the fountain basin, 
with the net emerging from the water. 
One of the most popular groups in its appeal to the 
plain people that frequent the park is Mr. Mulligan’s 
“Aliner and Child” on a low pedestal, backed by a fine 
landscape, near where the drive approaches the street. The 
strong realism of this homely sentiment, expressed in the 
figure of the miner returning from work, stooping to em- 
brace his little daughter, makes a universal appeal. 
Mr. Mulligan’s model of his George Rogers Clark mon- 
ument, which stands at Quincy, 111., overlooking the Mis- 
sissippi is more than interesting as a new type of portrait 
statue with a distinctly original grouping of figure and 
pedestal. The conventional bronze portrait, standing 
gaunt and unsupported on its square pedestal seldom rises 
to. the height of a work of art. The problem of finding 
a background for the legs is a task of sculptural technique 
seldom successfully solved, and the sculptor has ingenious- 
ly worked it out in this group by placing his statue in 
front of a monolithic truncated pyramid of Barre granite. 
The gradual widening of the entire composition toward 
the base, and the arrangement of figure and pedestal give 
an architectural stability and a decorative unity not ofterr 
realized in the single portrait statue. This work has been 
placed on a substantial rise of ground overlooking the 
park lake, much as the original at Quincy surveys the 
Father of Waters. *' 
On the walk, beside the drive, Mr. Taft’s “The Awaken- 
ing,” a half reclining female figure emerging from a 
roughly outlined pedestal, rises among the shrubbery as 
from a pastoral sleep. Edward Kemeys’ crouching panther, 
placed on a low pedestal, looks out for his prey from 
among the bushes on the shore of the lake. 
This exposition as a whole, has achieved a popular in- 
terest never aroused by an art exhibition of the conven- 
tional kind, and if its future progress is in keeping with 
present promise an institution has been founded that will 
be of unmeasured value to civic art. 
The show will remain in''the park throughout October 
and probably longer. 
