Lorado Taft's Fountain of the Great Lakes (JWB, 2012) |
With a touch of a button on this very day 99 years ago, a
little girl, the daughter of sculptor Lorado Taft, started water flowing from
shell to shell in The Fountain of the
Great Lakes, a sculpture that can be seen today in front of the west wall
of the Ferguson Wing of the Art Institute of Chicago.
Lorado Taft was born in Elmwood, Illinois on April 20, 1860. He received his degree from the University
of Illinois in 1879, stayed for another year to earn his Master’s degree and
then attended the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris, the most prestigious school
for design in the world, until 1883.
The sculptor opened his studio in Chicago in January of
1886 and began his career as an instructor at the Art Institute of Chicago that
same year. He went on to teach at both
the University of Chicago and the University of Illinois. He also worked as part of a team of sculptors
assembling the vast collection of sculptural work at the 1893 World’s Columbian
Exposition.
Lake Michigan and Lake Huron (JWB, 2012) |
As Timothy Garvey wrote in his book Public Sculptor: Lorado Taft and the Beautification of
Chicago, “To a public knowing and therefore appreciating only portraits and
soldier statues, he resolved to bring a new sensitivity to ideal sculpture; to
a city and region convinced that art of high quality was necessarily produced
elsewhere, he determined to prove the ability of local talent.” [Garvey. Public Sculptor: Lorado Taft and the
Beautification of Chicago. University of Illinois Press, 1988.]
He spent his life trying to achieve that grand vision. At the age of 76, Lorado Taft died at his home at 6016
North Ingleside, just off the Midway Plaisance, on October 30, 1936.
Lake Superior begins the natural flow of the Great Lakes (JWB, 2012) |
The Fountain of the Great Lakes had its birth in a casual
conversation between two Chicago giants as Lorado Taft and Daniel
Burnham rode to their homes in Evanston on a commuter train shortly
after the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition.
In his book on Lorado Taft, Garvey wrote, “Taft recalled, Burnham originally poses
his advice as a gentle scolding.
Claiming sculptors often overlooked wonderful subjects at their own
doorsteps, the architect cited the example of the lake beside them as a rich
American theme a sculptor might do well to consider.”
Working on other commissions and teaching almost
continuously, Lorado Taft was unable to produce a model for the lake fountain
until 1906 when a full-scale version was provided for public display. The date of 1906 is a significant one, too, because
it came just a year after Benjamin Franklin Ferguson left one million dollars
in trust to the Art Institute of Chicago which was to be used “entirely and
exclusively . . . under the direction of the Board of Trustees in the erection
and maintenance of enduring statuary and monuments, in the whole or in the part
of stone, granite, or bronze, in the parks, along the boulevards or in other
public places within the city of Chicago, Illinois, commemorating worthy men or
women of America or important events in American history.”
Note the full title of the piece, a homage to two great men who made the work happen (JWB, 2012) |
Benjamin Ferguson was born in Columbia,
Pennsylvania in 1839 and was among that generation of adventurers who came to
Chicago just prior to the fire in 1871 and made their fortune. Ferguson worked
exclusively in lumber and made a fortune doing so . . . enough so that after
traveling in Europe where he was impressed with the public sculpture, he vowed
to bring to Chicago that same sensitivity to public art.
Some 20 sculptures in Chicago
have been funded by the Ferguson fund. They include such works as the
sculptures on the south pylons (Defense and Regeneration) of the
DuSable Bridge carrying Michigan Avenue across the Chicago River, Ivan
Mestrovic's Bowman and Spearman, just east of Michigan Avenue on
Congress, and Henry Moore's Nuclear Energy at the University of
Chicago.
In the Fountain of the Great Lakes Lorado Taft
fashioned a series of female figures, executed in bronze, symbolizing the
general flow of the great lakes system with Lake Superior at the top which,
along with Lake Michigan, empties into a shell-like container held by Lake
Huron. The stream continues onto Lake
Erie, which passes the stream onto Lake Ontario.
The "wistful" Lake Ontario, yielding her charge to the St. Lawrence (JWB, 2012) |
In his remarks at the formal opening of the
fountain 99 years ago, the sculptor paid particular attention to the maiden
representing Lake Ontario, observing that as the waters of the Great Lakes
“escape from her basin and hasten into the unknown, she reaches wistfully after
them as though questioning whether she has been neglectful of her charge.” [Dedication of the Ferguson Fountain of the
Great Lakes]
Writing just days later the scholar, critic, and
patron of the arts, Harriet Monroe, observed, “[Lorado Taft] has made a truly
sculptural work, which takes with a certain authority one of the proudest sites
ever granted to a sculptor, adorning the fine south façade of the institute,
and dominating the open space of the park.
And he has expressed with force and beauty and a fine plan of enthusiasm
his magnificent subject. The ultimate
rank of his monument among the world’s treasures only the verdict of time can
decide.”
The original location of the fountain. Photo taken sometime after 1916 since Gunsaulus Hall, spanning the Illinois Central tracks to the rear is clearly finished. (Google Image) |
When water first began to flow from lake to lake
back on September 9, 1913, the statue
faced south and sat on the south side of the original Art Institute building, finished 20 years before.
After standing for nearly 50 years in that location the sculptural work
was moved so that it now faces west from its position in front of the 1962
Morton Wing of the Art Institute.
The move was not without controversy. The Chicago Heritage Committee objected to
the Art Institute “pushing our statues around.” The committee, which came into being in 1957
in the fight to save Robie House on the city’s south side, was made up of
Chicagoans from all walks of life, including Alderman Leon Despres of the Fifth
Ward.
Feeding pigeons at the original site of the fountain . . . Note Solon S. Beman's Pullman Building across the street (Google Image) |
The committee held that the Ferguson fund, which
according to the original will of the generous lumber man was to be used for
“erection and maintenance of statuary and monuments” had been twisted over the
years to suit the needs of the Art Institute.
For one thing the 1959 Ferguson Wing of the museum on its north side
used $1,600,000 from the fund to construct the $2,300,000 addition.
The head of the group, a teacher at Crane Junior
College, Thomas Stauffer, said, “The legend on the back of the Fountain of the
Great Lakes statue, beneath the bust of Ferguson says his ‘fund must be used
for erecting and maintaining enduring statuary and monuments’—not for playing
shuffleboard with them.”
Interestingly enough, the placement of the statue
in its new location in 1963 has the piece so close to the west wall of the
Morton Wing that no one can even see the back of the thing, a nice, practical
way of solving the problem that Mr. Stauffer pointed out.
The contemporary setting for the Fountain of the Great Lakes, looking east toward the Morton Wing of the Art Institute (JWB, 2012) |
The great sculpture sits in a lovely urban garden
completed between 1962 and 1967, the result of a collaboration between two
great designers, architect Harry Weese and landscape architect Dan Kiley. On the west side of the space honey locusts
and ground cover provide a transitional entrance to this escape from the city.
The central plaza is recessed 18 inches and holds
a rectangular pool leading one's eyes to the great fountain to the east. On either side of the pool cockspur hawthorn
trees provide a canopy over the entire plaza.
On a sunny, summer’s day, with the water of
Lorado Taft’s fountain splashing in the background, I don’t think there is a
better place in the city to read a book and eat a take-away lunch.
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ReplyDeleteOne of my favorite gardens in our whole green city. I love the way the thorn trees and the sunken level and the crunchy gravel make you feel protected and a long way from Michigan Avenue. I went to school in the area and loved to lunch here. And it was, back when, a great place to sneak a smoke during a concert at Orchestra Hall.
ReplyDeleteJust wanted to drop a comment and say I am new to your blog and really like what I am reading.
ReplyDelete