[music clip] James Hughes: Good morning, folks, and welcome to another in our series of docent training classes. This morning we are very happy to have with us Dr. Tom Somma, who is director of the University of Mary Washington Galleries in Fredericksburg, Va., and we are very pleased that he can be here with us. Thank you. Tom Somma: Thanks, James. It's always a pleasure to be here. I think I have spoken to the docents about, I don't know, five or six times already, but it's always a pleasure. And it's always a pleasure also to talk about my favorite building. I'm an American art historian, and I study, in particular, American sculpture and public art, and especially in Washington. And I've studied the sculpture of the Capitol Building and the sculpture of the Library of Congress quite a bit, and as I said, the Library of Congress [Thomas Jefferson Building] is my favorite building. Its distinction is that it is thought by most art historians and architectural historians to be the best interior public space in American architecture. So, the distinction of the building is not so much its exterior architecture, but its interior design and its interior decoration. The plan for the entire decoration of the interior really on this level has no precedent before the Library of Congress. It's the first time that a national iconography was established to this degree, to decorate the interior of a public building. And once developed, it really was the influence and the source for lots of other buildings that went up over the next at least quarter century. It's still one of the best examples of interior space. Possibly in the same league with it would be the New York State Appellate Courthouse in New York City, which dates about the same time and also the Pennsylvania State Courthouse; two other buildings that really are in the same league. But the Library of Congress is still, for my money, the best. I'm going to talk a little bit about the works in the building, primarily sculpture, but works in the building that I think are the most significant. And as you can see, the first two images I have up on the screen on the left are the entrance hall, a view of the entrance hall, and on the right, a view of the Great Hall. There's so much decoration throughout the building, and there are so many images, so many murals, so many different statues that you literally could fill an encyclopedia with just the images. And some historians might choose to do that. My preference is to focus in on just a few images that I think are the best images, or a few of the murals and sculptures that I think are the best; the best in terms, primarily, of what they signify. So I'm more interested in the why than in the what. I mean, there's lots of places where you can get the what; you know, this is a statute that means this. This stands for electricity, this stands for electricity, this stands for this, this stands for that. That's the what. I tend to be a lot more interested in the why; you know, why is that significant? What does it stand for? What does it mean? What does it tell us about American culture? What does it tell us about Western culture? What does it tell us about the purpose of the building? What does it tell us about the significance of knowledge in a democracy? Things like that. And the building is filled with images that are very fluent in talking about those things. The style of the decoration, if we needed to designate a style, it belongs to a cultural stylistic period we call the American Renaissance. The interior design of the murals and the sculpture we can designate as belonging to the American Renaissance. The American Renaissance is a cultural period that actually was concurrent with a number of other things going on in America. It begins at the [United States] Centennial, 1876. Most historians identify the American Renaissance as beginning with the Centennial, 1876, continuing up to America's entrance into World War I, which is 1917. And obviously there were lots of other things going on in the culture at the time. It's a time of tremendous change, culturally, in many ways, and also artistically. But what distinguishes American Renaissance? There are a number of features that distinguish the American Renaissance. First of all, it sort of aesthetically matches the new confidence of the American nation as it enters the world arena on what it perceives as an equal footing for the first time with other major countries, particularly France, Germany, England. And so there's a new confidence there that America politically, economically and even artistically can compete with these other major nations, really for the first time. For several hundred years America was trying to catch up, and by the end of the 19th century it has caught up. So there's this confidence. There's also this confidence that not only has America caught up, but America is prepared and in a position to actually lead Western culture into the new century politically and economically. So there's a real confidence there, which is carried out in the art of the American Renaissance and in the architecture. I mentioned that the late 19th, early 20th century is a period of tremendous change. So, what American Renaissance cultural figures and artists do is they look to the past for rational models of change upon which to base moving into the future. So, American Renaissance ideology is kind of like this two-headed thing. You know, it looks back to the past on the one hand to discover all the best models possible, whether it's a work of art or whether it's an idea or whatever it is, of rational change, and then to use that as a basis for bringing Western culture into the 20th century -- leading Western culture into the 20th century. So it's looking back and it's looking forward at the same time. Now, the looking back part gives American Renaissance art and ideology a very conservative look, because one of the things that American Renaissance ideology decides to do is to identify with the classical tradition. In other words, its primary sources go back through the Italian Renaissance, back to ancient Greece and Rome, the classical tradition and all that the classical tradition stands for. That's basically the aesthetic language that the American Renaissance artists adopt. And certainly, by the time we get into the 20th century, that's scene as very conservative. And this is actually one of the reasons why the art that we see in the Library of Congress for a long time was not studied by American art historians, it was not taught by American art historians, it was not emulated by American artists, because they were modernists. And modernism means a number of things, but one of the things that modernism means, the modernist sensibility, is to disconnect from the past; a sort of assumption that the way things were done in the past are no longer relevant to the present. That's always been a fundamental aspect of modernism, beginning in the middle of the 19th century and carrying right through the 20th century. So, a style that is so dependent on looking back to the past is something that was just out of vogue with the art establishment throughout the 20th century. Now that we're in a post-modern period, so-called post-modern period, we're past modernism. We're in a more pluralistic, even a globalistic cultural period. And so many artists, many art historians and so on, are reevaluating the past, are reevaluating styles in the 20th century, artists in the 20th century that were more dependent on the past. And so we've got a renewed interest in buildings like the Library of Congress, like the Pennsylvania State Capital, like the courthouse -- Appellate Courthouse in New York, and on and on, because the art of these buildings, you know, was ignored for so long, and now we're going back to look at them; they're taking on new values. okay, so this two-headed approach, looking back to the past for role models upon which to build a foundation off of which we're moving to the future; a turn for influence back through the Italian Renaissance, back to ancient Greek and Roman Art. And by the way, the main points there would be, first of all, the use of the human figure symbolically or metaphorically, which is a fundamental of the classical tradition, right back to ancient Greece; the use of a human form to represent something else than just a portrait, you know; to represent a concept, represent an idea, represent a geographical location, represent a nation. The personification of an idea: that is, to use a figure, a human figure to represent something. That's personification, and that's part of the classical tradition, and you can certainly see that in the art of the Library of Congress. But other aspects of the classical tradition that are key are humanism. Humanism is absolutely central, okay. And by humanism which -- there are some camps around America that sort of look negatively at humanism. But all humanism means is a study of living human beings. With the ancient Greeks it started with how they move, how they're constructed. But then it goes much further than that; how they think, how they react with each other, what's the relationship of living human beings to the natural world, okay? What are their economic needs? What are their political needs? What are their economic desires? What are their political desires? Living human beings; that's what humanism is. And clearly that has been a major impact that has had a continuing influence on Western culture and especially democracy, okay. But certainly it's part of the tools of the American Renaissance. Another important legacy of the classical tradition and of Greece, ancient Greece in particular is skepticism; another term that in some camps is approached negatively. But all skepticism means is that the individual thinks for themselves, okay. That's all that skepticism means, instead of taking verbatim everything that you're told and handed -- you have to believe this, you have to believe this, you have to believe this -- instead of saying, "Why? Why do I have to believe that?" Accepting it without questioning is the opposite of skepticism. So all skepticism is, is "Well, you're telling me this is the way it is. Tell me why it's that way, because maybe there's a better way." So, skepticism emphasizes the individual's use of their own intellect, and it also is a very important feature not only in American Renaissance ideology, but in Western culture, and again, especially in a democracy, because what skepticism does is it opens the possibility for progress, which is a major value of Western culture, okay, and especially Western democracies. The idea of progress, even the belief that progress is possible, you know not just very positive, is a Western value that really distinguishes Western culture from lots of other cultures, okay. So those are some of the things that are very significant as legacies of the classical tradition of antiquity that are important in the American Renaissance. I should also mention, just very generally, the celebration of the intellect, okay. The belief that a human being can make sense of the world by applying their intellect; and consequently the significance of knowledge especially to a democracy. And this is where it really becomes important for the Library of Congress, which is essentially -- the way I think of it is as a secular temple to knowledge. Knowledge -- the free and ready access to knowledge is one of the most sure ways to ensure the destiny of a democracy. You need free and easy access to knowledge for everyone -- not just some, but everyone; a system that's based on the decisions of the common person, the average person, okay. Those people need to, everyone needs to be knowledgeable, and they need to be educated, okay. It's the only way that a democracy can survive. And so, that aspect of the classical tradition, you know, classical art is always designed to teach something, to appeal to the intellect, to be understood in a way that can then be used, okay. And especially in a democracy, you know, American democracy is this wonderful combination of idealism and pragmatism, okay. Idealism for Americans is good only so far, okay, unless you can show that that idea has a practical application that can be made pragmatic, okay; that can be applied to the betterment of living human beings. Then, you know, Americans will eventually drop it, you know? It's that wonderful combination of idealism and pragmatism that is a very distinguishing feature of American democracy. All of these things, to one extent or another, are reflected in the images of the Library of Congress. Some things I'll talk more about when we go on tour, but one of the things I just wanted to point out in the entrance hall are these console figures, these pairs of console figures. These are pairs of Minervas, and we'll talk a lot more about Minerva. There's a Minerva of war and a Minerva of peace; war and peace. These are by an American sculptor named Herbert Adams, Herbert Adams an important American sculptor at the turn of the century. Minerva is a very central figure in all of what we'll be talking about. I'll say much more about it when we get to the [Elihu] Vedder Minerva. I'd like to point out here that Minerva in many ways is seen as a protector of civilization, and that is really what she stands for when represented in the Library of Congress. And Minerva's images are throughout public art, public American art, throughout the 19th and into the early 20th century, because of this idea that she is a rational goddess, and symbolically she represents the forces that protect culture, the forces that protect civilization. The significance of war and peace is that very often you see images of war and peace together in American public art. And part of the reason for that is that peace has always been considered, even by the ancient Greeks, as the condition that's essential for democracy to thrive; a free and open system like democracy, okay, can only survive under the conditions of peace. A free and open society that celebrates individual values and the independence of the individual can't survive under the conditions of war. Not only is it threatened from the warring faction that's trying to attack you, but it's undermined from within because the values that we all hold dear, just by the fact that we're in war, those values are threatened. And a good example right now is the Patriot Act, and how people have problems with the Patriot Act because it undermines some of the values that we take for granted. Of course, this happens in every war that we've been in; it's nothing new. But the point is that sometimes war is essential to protect an open democratic system. But it was recognized, even by the ancient Greeks, that you'd better get back to peace as soon as possible, because war itself, if you're fighting a war to protect democracy, the conditions of war itself can undermine democracy. So you've got to get back to the conditions of peace as soon as possible. So very often you'll see these combinations of war and peace. Just a couple more, a couple more images: These are both from the Great Hall, and the figures by Philip Martiny, you see the lamp -- the figure that's holding up the lamp. There's one at the foot of each staircase; a wonderful bronze figure, a relative of the Statue of Liberty. Whenever I'm giving a tour of the Library of Congress, I say that's the Statue of Liberty's niece. [laughter] The point is that a figure like that is holding up -- whether it's a torch or a lamp -- a very traditional symbol of enlightenment. And of course, in a library it's the knowledge that shines light on ignorance, all right? It's the light of knowledge that is vanquishing the darkness of ignorance. And then the wonderful figures, also designed by Philip Martiny, the little secular cherubs that go up and down the staircase here, which, you know, every once in a while -- I come into the building a lot, and I attach very often onto tours that are going around. And I realize that the American public loves these figures, and frankly, they are terrific figures. But for me, the significance of these figures -- and as you may already know, they represent different jobs that, you know, Americans can have. They can walk into the building and actually see examples of, you know, images of jobs that they have or their friends have. The significance there is that that's an element of the Progressive era. There are things throughout the building, even though it's art and architecture at the very highest level, and the Progressive movement is more of a populist movement, there are elements of progressivism throughout the building. And specifically, what's progressive about this is that one of the tenets of late 19th, early 20th century progressivism is that the source of the country's power and wealth is the average American worker. He and she are ultimately the source of America's power and wealth. That's part of the populist progressive approach. Again, it's not the what, it's the why for me, although they're darling, especially the -- what is it they call it, an entomologist or...? Audience: [Inaudible response]. Tom Somma: I don't know how many entomologists you know, but I don't know very many. But still, they're terrific, the figures that are at the balustrades, these two here. This is the left staircase as you're walking into the building. This is Europe and Asia, and on the other side is Africa and America. In three cases they actually have their hand on a part of the globe that signifies their nation. In other words, Africa, the little figure has his hand on Africa. Asia has his hand on Asia. Europe has his hand on Europe. The only figure that doesn't do this is America. And if you enter the room, if you enter into the Great Hall from the entrance hall, if you look up to the right you see America and Africa at that globe. You can recognize America because it has a Native American headdress on it, which is a very typical way for American painters and sculptors to Americanize a figure during the American Renaissance. So this little figure has a little headdress on it. But instead of having its hand on the globe touching America, it covers its eyes as if it's looking out somewhere. And where it's looking is exactly at the spot where people enter the Great Hall from the entrance hall. And I'm convinced -- although I've never found it written anywhere, I'm convinced that Martiny and the architects did that intentionally as a greeting for people entering the Great Hall. America is looking right down at you as you enter the building, coming through the great portals, through the Entrance Hall into the Great Hall, as a kind of greeting from the figure that represents America. This represents the four continents. Martiny called them the four continents, and it's another example that you see throughout the building, especially in comparison to earlier public art, of the inclusiveness of the American Renaissance approach; the inclusiveness. This building is not just about America, it's not just about American images, it's about images that are drawn from all different cultures, all different nations, all different times periods. And again, it really fits the idea of the building as a library because after all, what is being kept here are the best ideas, the best concepts. The best that's ever been thought in the past by the entire human family is collected and kept safe here and made available to Americans and anyone else who wants to come and have free access to them, okay. The important American Renaissance late 19th century cultural figure Matthew Arnold called that the "saving remnant," "saving remnant." He felt it was essentially a responsibility on the part of late 19th century American culture to look through all of the cultures from the past and make sure that when they found something that was absolutely worth saving, that they saved it for posterity; saved it, first of all, for the present, again to build that foundation as we move into the 20th century, but then also to save it for posterity. One of the saddest stories in all of human history is the destruction of the wonderful library in Alexandria. And scholars speculate that maybe, you know, 2 percent of the knowledge that was in that wonderful library in Alexandria has survived to the present time, because that library was destroyed. And it's that idea that we don't want something like that to happen again. We need a place where all of the best that's ever been done, ever been thought, living human beings have access to that. And so that idea is also central to what's going on in the Library of Congress, as I'm sure you've been told a number of times, right from the very beginning, not just as the Library of Congress, but as the national library. It's a national library, you know, intended not simply for the use of the members of Congress and their staffs, but Americans and anyone else who wants to come and enter the building. Okay, so that inclusiveness is a very important aspect of the American Renaissance. We'll talk a little bit more about that later. The commemorative arch here, based on Roman triumphal arches such as the Arch of Titus, T-I-T-U-S, would be a good example from about 80 A.D. in Rome. Triumphal arches were built by the Roman populace to greet a returning emperor with his army, coming from several years away; a victorious emperor returning. And the emperor and his army would march through the arch as they re-entered Rome, okay. So it was a celebration of the political, economic, military triumph of the emperor. And one of the unfortunate things about how you enter the Thomas Jefferson Building today is that you don't enter it the way you used to enter it, okay. And the significance of that, as we'll see more from the tour -- whenever I begin a tour, I always begin a tour right inside the three main entrance doors, because that's the way people came in. And in fact, most of the central block of the building is designed around and arranged around the axis that starts from those three doors; goes through the entrance hall, through the Great Hall, through the commemorative arch, through that next hall, through the door, right into the Main Reading Room. A lot of the imagery of all of those rooms, and even including imagery that's up on the second floor is arranged along that axis, okay. So you actually lose some of the intentions of the designers, as far as what some of these things mean if you lose track of the fact that they were designed to be seen as you walked down that axis toward the Main Reading Room. So that axis takes you right through this triumphal arch; it's referred to as the commemorative arch. I consider it a triumphal arch, okay, because what it does, you know, it puts you in the position of the returning emperor, okay. I mean, wouldn't that be a cool thing to say to kids? "The designers of the building put you in the position to walk through this triumphal arch, just like a returning triumphant Roman emperor. Their triumph was military, political. Your triumph is what? You're gaining access to knowledge. Just the mere fact that you're coming to this building and gaining access to knowledge, you are helping to ensure the integrity of democracy." If anyone ever asks you, "Well, what could I do to help ensure democracy? I really love democracy, and I wish there was more I could do." The best thing you can do is become as educated a person as you can be, and help others to get educated, because without that, other things won't help, okay? Other things won't be enough. Knowledge is absolutely essential. And of course, the designers of this building are very aware of that; being a library, even more so. So they treat you as a returning, triumphant Roman emperor. Some beautiful figures here: This area here, by the way, designated by this horizontal space in here, these are called spandrels. We use the same word for Roman triumphal arches. Those are called spandrels. And in Roman triumphal arches they would have a relief sculpture in them. And the designers here have done the same thing; they've put sculpture in there. And they are "The Students." They are "The Students" by [Olin] Warner, an American sculptor named Warner, who we'll talk a little bit more about in a minute. One's a very young boy and one's a very old man, designating that knowledge, especially in a democracy, but knowledge is a lifelong pursuit. It's not just for public school children, okay? It's absolutely essential that everyone in a democracy get as well educated as possible. Okay, here's our image of Minerva on the second floor. It's directly along that axis -- It's directly along that axis moving from west to east, which I'll talk a little more about when we go on tour. As I'm sure most of you know, it's right outside the gallery of the Main Reading Room, but it's along that axis. Keeping up with the ongoing metaphor that the building is a secular temple to knowledge, or if you like, a secular church, when I give tours or when I talk about this image, I refer to this as the Library of Congress's altar piece, or Minerva as the secular saint of the Library of Congress, okay, just to keep that metaphor going, okay. We've already noted that she represents, metaphorically, the forces that protect culture, the forces that protect civilization. On the right here -- the artist here is Vedder, Elihu Vedder, who is primarily a painter, but accepted the commission to design this mosaic, this heroic mosaic. And you can see his sources. This is a statue of Athena from ancient Greece. This is by the 5th century B.C.E. sculptor, Phidias, P-H-I-D-I-A-S. Phidias is also the Greek sculptor who supervised the sculpture for the Parthenon, okay. And this particular Athena, because there are many different images of her from antiquity, this particular one is called "Athena Lemnia," L-E-M-N-I-A. I think it dates 5th century B.C.E. By the way, are you familiar with the term now, B.C.E.? It's becoming more and more in use. I think art historians are among the last people to start using it. It's been in use for quite a long time. It's a new conception for B.C., B.C.E., Before Common Era. The main point here is that this is a pacific Athena. This is a peaceful Athena. Now, I'm saying Athena and Vedder's images are of Minerva. Athena is the Greek name for the goddess; Minerva is the Roman name. Athena was the goddess of -- I've mentioned her rational nature, and as the protector of civilization. Does anybody know specifically what she is the goddess of for the ancient Greeks? Male Speaker: War and wisdom. Female Speaker: Victory? Dr. Tom Somma: She is the goddess of war, and what was the other? Male Speaker: Wisdom. Tom Somma: Wisdom. Absolutely. She's the goddess of war and she's the goddess of wisdom; kind of unusual to have the same goddess stand for both things, right? But the wisdom part means that wisdom, intellect, knowledge and free access to it and free display of it is at the source, is at the root of a democracy. And that's what she protects. So, in Vedder's image she holds in her hand a scroll, which is unrolling, and on it is listed all of the different categories of thought and knowledge that is kept safe here at the Library, and that she is protecting, okay. And a system, an open system, a rational system based on the rule of law, okay, based on intellect, based on knowledge, based on free access to knowledge; a system like that, okay, is a very rational system, so she's a very rational god. But as we said before, a system like that can be threatened from without and from within, can be threatened by cultures that are not dedicated to the intellect and to progress and to knowledge and to humanism and so on. It can be a threat to that system. And forces within -- superstition, ignorance, so on, okay. So, even for the Greeks she represented the force that protected the system from those things, okay. And every once in a while, even the Greeks realized that what she would do is she would use every rational means at her disposal to keep the culture safe, okay. But when all else failed, she would fight if she had to, okay. So there are images of pacific Athena, peaceful Athena, and there are images of Athena taking up her weapons. You can see in both cases -- Vedder's image and Phidias's 5th century B.C.E. image -- that she has her implements of war there. Here's her spear, here's her buckler and her helmet down here. She wears a coat of mail with a Medusa head on it. All these things are implements of war. But it's not belligerent war, it's not active war; that's Mars. Mars is the god of active war. This is more protective war. Male Speaker: Defensive. Tom Somma: Defensive war, exactly. This is defensive war, okay. So, very often Athena is shown in her pacific aspects, and this is what Vedder is showing. So Vedder is really emphasizing that she is the protectress of knowledge, protectress of wisdom, protectress of civilization. Some other images here that are interesting to talk about. Here's the owl, a symbol of wisdom. One of the reasons why -- yes? Question? Male Speaker: Are there any stories in mythology about how the owl got to be her animal? Tom Somma: Not that I know of, but just -- and this is general knowledge more than anything else -- the fact that the owl's head can go all the way around, it can look at things from more than one point of view -- looking at things from more than one point of view; not bringing one point of view to the appreciation of everything you come in contact with, but approaching what you see, approaching evidence from more than one perspective, from more than one point of view, is always one of the sure tip-offs of someone who's pretty smart, because they're not locked in to one thing. Because if they are, then whatever they see, whether it's true or not, if it doesn't fit with what they believe, they either ignore it or they try to change it to fit their point of view, rather than letting the evidence take them to a new point of view, because the evidence is true. So, anyone that has one point of view and then tries to fit everything they come in contact with into that point of view, whatever you might say about them, they don't have the wisdom of the owl. Let's put it that way. Yes, question over here? Male Speaker: Was the Athena statue related somewhat to the reign of Pericles during the Greek period? Pericles was the first Greek to bring in democracy. You've emphasized democracy throughout your talk. Tom Somma: Yeah. It's about the same time that the Greeks adopt Athena as their protectress. Also, she becomes the main figure on the Acropolis and so on. That's during the time of Pericles. Pericles is a very important historical figure, absolutely. That's the exact time that we're talking about. And this figure here is the winged figure. What is that figure? Anybody know? Audience: Nike. Dr. Tom Somma: That's the Nike. That's the Nike, the Greek figure of victory. She's not wearing sneakers, right, but the sneakers were named after her. Yeah. Male Speaker: I'm told the Nike swoosh is a stylized version of her wings. Tom Somma: Makes sense to me. I mean, I can't verify that, but certainly, visually it makes sense. And again, here the victory is the victory of knowledge over ignorance, which is also reflected in the clouds moving away and letting the sun shine through, okay. Now, if this in fact were a Christian saint, okay, that imagery of the clouds passing away and the light coming through would have a divine connotation. The light in Western art and Western architecture, you know, going back at least to the Abbott Suger and the birth of Gothic architecture represents the presence of the divine on earth, okay, presence of the divine on earth. Right up to the 19th century American landscape paintings, if you go over to the National Gallery and look at Thomas Cole's "Voyage of Life" and you see that light coming down, that's the divine presence on earth. But that would be in a religious context. Here, in a more secular context, that light represents the light of knowledge vanquishing the clouds of ignorance. So the designers of the building, again they're pulling from many different traditional sources, many traditional motifs, some of them Italian Renaissance, some of them Greece, some of them Rome, some of them, you know, other sources, okay, choosing them for their effectiveness, putting them in an American Renaissance context, putting them in an American context, putting them in a democratic context, using them, because of their relevance to what the designers want to say, in this new context. One of the things I haven't mentioned, which I should mention, is the evolutionary quality of American Renaissance art. We talked about looking back for effective role models upon which to build, moving into the future. Well, we also can't underestimate the influence of evolutionary thinking, okay. Evolutionary thinking, a major impact on late 19th century Western thought, American thought, really touched every category of Western thought and continues to be a major influence on Western thought. The significance -- the sort of general cultural significance to evolutionary ideas is that simple forms progress to more complicated forms, okay. And if you project that into world cultures and politics and so on, simpler forms, okay, are absolutely crucial to the development of the later forms, okay. But the later forms become more complicated, more advanced. And that's part of American Renaissance ideology as well, okay. So there's a dependence on the past, okay, but there's a sense that, well, let's take that idea and apply it in a new late 19th century, 20th century American context. And it's dependent on that earlier idea, but it's more advanced, okay. There's that evolutionary quality as well. The most obvious place we see that is "The Evolution of Civilization," [Edwin H.] Blashfield's great mural -- the color painting in the Main Reading Room, okay. I've been on a couple of tours where people have pointed out, "No matter where you stand, the Minerva's toes will point at you," okay. Which brings up something that I hear very often. You know, I'll tag onto tours at the Lincoln Memorial, and I love going on tours that other people are giving, to hear what people are saying and so on. And you know, it's the same kind of thing you very often hear when you're going on tour and the tour guide is showing you a portrait where the person is looking right out of the portrait at you. Well, wherever you stand in that room, the person is going to be looking at you. You can't avoid it. It's not a trick that the artist figured out, if it's pointing out of the picture, wherever you stand it's pointing out of the picture, you know, it's pointing out at you. But my favorite is at the Lincoln Memorial. If you stand on this side of Washington, you see in his hair the profile of Robert E. Lee. [laughter] I mean, I've heard National Park Service people say that in tours they're bringing through. And my feeling about those things are -- actually, I got a question. I gave a lecture to the Washington guides a couple of months ago, and I got that question, "Is that the profile of Robert E. Lee in the side of Lincoln's head?" And I said, "No, it's not, but," I said, "things like that -- actually, being an art historian, I'm not opposed to things kinds of things -- to saying those kinds of things." Because very often those things come up with the desire of the person who is leading the tour to provide the group, usually of a younger age, a hook into what you're talking about. The job of the tour guide is to provide the hook. It's up to the person where that hook takes them, okay. You know, if someone gets, "My God, the profile on the side of Lincoln, that's really cool!" they'll start reading about the statue and start reading about Lincoln. All of a sudden they forgot about Robert E. Lee, but they're learning all this about the Lincoln Memorial and Lincoln. It's the hook that got them in, you know, so there's nothing wrong with that. In fact, I think that's part of the role of a tour guide, is to somehow come up with a hook. And hopefully you don't have to use that at the Lincoln Memorial, you can come up with a different kind of hook, but whatever works. The hook is very important, I think, you know, to provide the people that are on your tour with some kind of hook, because once they're hooked then they're hooked forever. I mean, they'll start looking up things on their own, and that's when you really know that you've done something. All right, here's a work that I want to talk a little bit about. It may be partly because I'm a sculptural historian, I study American sculpture, but I think I'm objective enough to realize that it's not just that. I consider this work to be one of the best two or three works of art in the entire Library. And the unfortunate thing for me is hardly anyone ever sees it because it's on the outside of the building. This is one of the bronze reliefs above one of the original three main entrances to the Library, okay. This is the one that's on the far left as you walk up the steps to approach the building. This spot -- this semi-circular spot above the door is called a lunette, L-U-N-E-T-T-E. And similar in other buildings back, at least to the early medieval period, this spot over the entrance to the building to the church, or in this case to the Library, is a spot singled out for sculpture or decoration because this is where everybody's coming. This is where they enter the building, you know. Very often, especially during the medieval period, this is where the decorators of medieval churches would put some of their most significant imagery, over the main entrance to the building. The early medieval periods, this is where they would put last judgments to make sure that everybody knew that, you know, there's going to be a last judgment; you'd better be good because this is going to happen someday. There's going to be a last judgment. So in keeping with that long tradition, the architects commissioned some very fine relief sculpture for three lunettes, and this is the best one. This is bronze, and it's designed by Warner, the same sculptor who did the two students on the commemorative art, Warner, and this is called oral, O-R-A-L "Oral Tradition." It's comprised of a group -- a two-figure group at the center: a seated female seated on a throne, and a nude young boy here who is sort of sitting in her lap, but sort of ready to spring forward. You see how he's sort of got one arm around her knee, but he's sort of ready to -- but he's not really sitting, he's sort of half-standing also, ready to spring forward. He's looking back towards the woman, who has one arm up in a kind of gesture of instruction, and holds his other hand in her other hand. It's a wonderful group, which is a metaphor for passing something on from one person to another, okay. Metaphorically it's the symbol of passing one thing to another. And metaphorically, it can represent any number of different things. Any ideas? Male Speaker: It looks like the Beaux-Arts. Dr. Tom Somma: Okay, yeah, well, its sources are definitely in Renaissance painting, which we'll get to in a minute. Keeping in mind that it's an American Renaissance work of art and it's on a Library, what metaphorically might these figures represent, and what might be being passed on? Yes? Female Speaker: [Unintelligible] Western civilization to America -- Dr. Tom Somma: Okay. It could be Western civilization, or just past civilization, in general, passing on knowledge and information to the new generation, or to America; one generation passing on information to the next generation. It certainly would be in keeping with a mother and child motif; could be one person passing on knowledge to the next person. This could be the Library. This figure, this woman could be the Library, and this young boy is someone who's coming to the Library to get information, okay; another very good example of personification, by the way, you know, as part of the classical tradition. And within all of those interpretations, all of which I'm sure Warner was thinking about and would be happy for us to read into it, but what do you think would be the significance of the nudity of the young child? Why nude? Yes? Male Speaker: Innocence. Tom Somma: Innocence; innocence not only virtue -- not only in terms of virtue, but innocence in terms of what else? Audience: Knowledge. Dr. Tom Somma: Knowledge. What do we call that? Innocence... Male Speaker: Ignorance. Tom Somma: No, no, no. Well, not ignorance. Male Speaker: Tabula rasa. Dr. Tom Somma: Tabula rasa, clean slate. Clean slate. No preconceptions. A more popular way to say that is an open mind. An open mind is something to really be treasured in a democracy. Okay, an open mind is very important. An open mind, again, part of the skepticism of the Western tradition going back to ancient Greece opens up the opportunity for progress. No preconceptions. It's very hard to have an open mind. I'm sure that none of us have a completely open mind. I know I don't. I can't help but be somewhat ruled by how I was taught; you know, what my parents taught me, what my teachers taught me. I may have outgrown or gotten to a point where I've rejected some of those things, but still, a lot of those things, I can't. You know, we can't, it's hard. But with a child, they haven't gone through all of that yet. They are an open slate, you know. So, the nudity is a representation of that; absolutely crucial, open mind. One of the examples I like to talk about is Leonardo, because everybody knows Leonardo da Vinci. Leonardo, Leonardo besides being a great artist and inventor and engineer and so on, was also a great scientist, and was one of the first in Western history to give us accurate drawings of human anatomy, internal human anatomy. Part of that reason was he went against the law in dissecting cadavers, which the church said was against the law at his time, which he had to get illegally and then dissect them. But you look at Leonardo's early drawings of human anatomy and they have the preconceptions of the way that Western culture, the way that medicine looked at anatomy before Leonardo. See, he's still thinking, well, you know, this is the way it is, so that's the way he draws it. But very quickly he begins to draw it the way that he sees it, not the way he was told, okay. That's what this means, okay, to take off, to undress in a sense, what you've been told and let the evidence of what you're looking at and exploring and studying, let the evidence take you where it takes you, even if it, even if it disputes what you've been told. All right, you have to take that off. You have to take those clothes off and put on a new set of clothes, because you are relying on your intellect, okay. In the Renaissance, a fantastic period in human history, absolutely a watershed in human history, the Renaissance basically, because of our intellect -- because of applying our intellect we can understand ourselves and the world, okay. "Don't tell me that we can't understand the world. I can study this. I can study this and understand how it works." That's what happens in the Renaissance. What also happens in the Renaissance, which is a great foundation for the transformation of Western culture, is that the Renaissance combines the features of antiquity that we talked about, humanism and skepticism, with the morality of the Judeo-Christian tradition. Those two traditions, before the Renaissance, were completely opposite one another. They existed alongside each other and were completely opposite to each other; Judeo-Christian tradition over here, antiquity over here, a lot of their fundamental values in conflict with each other, the Renaissance brings them together, okay. As far as artistically is concerned, okay, the nude human body, which was the center of Greek art, okay, for Renaissance artists like Rafael, Michelangelo, Leonardo, the nude human form, it's what the ideal human body would look like. But grafting onto it the morality of the Judeo-Christian tradition, the beautiful ideal nude is the physical embodiment of virtue on the inside, the Renaissance artists put the two together, all right. So when you see an ideal nude from Renaissance art, yes, that's an ideal living human being, but at the same time it's the Renaissance artist's physical representation of Christian virtue, religious virtue or morality. They're two sides of the same coin, okay. So one of the great things about the Renaissance is it grafts those two traditions together, and that combination really provides the foundation for the flowering of Western culture up until now, okay. That's why the Renaissance is so important. Okay, so this nudity can also represent virtue. Here it's not religious virtue. Here's it's a more kind of secular virtue; the virtue that comes with knowledge, with education. Some of you may be familiar with the great seated George Washington over in the now closed National Museum of American History by [Horatio] Greenough; you know, the great seated George. He looks like a Greek god sitting on a throne, pointing his finger up in the sky. Nobody's ever really liked it. You know, even American art historians don't really like it. Greenough's idea was -- I mean, George Washington is nude from the waist up, okay, because that ideal nudity of George Washington represents his virtue in a sense of secular virtue, putting the good of the state and his country ahead of his own self-interests, okay. So it's part of this classical tradition. A significant thing about this relief is the four figures that are seated around the central group. These are four figures that Warner identified as figures that represent four peoples, aboriginal peoples who kept their knowledge alive by passing it along from one generation to another, orally. They didn't have a written history, okay. Their knowledge was passed on through an oral tradition, so this relief is called "Oral Tradition." This figure is a Norseman. This figure, the bottom left, is a shepherd. This figure on the front right is a Stone Age man. Warner called him Stone Age man. Today we'd probably call him a prehistoric man. And this figure here is a Native American. An important aspect here is that all of these figures, despite the fact that they didn't have a written history, they didn't write things down, they still contributed to the progress of civilization, to the progress of knowledge, by passing their knowledge of the world and the knowledge of themselves and their relationships to the world, on from one generation to the next through an oral tradition. Now, to put this in a larger 19th century American context - oh, before I do that, this is an example of -- and there are many examples of this, frankly, throughout the building, and not just from Italian Renaissance art; we've seen some examples already -- but this is a good example from Italian Renaissance art. Warner has based his "Oral Tradition" on a type of Italian Renaissance altarpiece that was typical during the second half of the 15th century. And this is one example. This is a particular kind of Italian Renaissance altarpiece, which was called the" Holy Conversation," or in Italian, the "Sacra Conversazione." This particular one is called the "San Giobbe" altarpiece, S-a-n capital G i-o-b-b-e, and it's a very well-known altarpiece. It's by the Venetian Renaissance, Italian Renaissance artist Bellini, B-E-L-L-I-N-I, Giovanni Bellini, and it dates about 1485. It's a very common form during the second half of the 15th century which shows the Madonna and child seated on a throne at the center, and surrounded by saints from all different periods of the church. And they're standing around in a very informal presentation, discussing some aspect of Christian religious dogma. Very often one of them makes a gesture out to the audience, out in front of the painting. In this case it's St. Francis here who's actually gesturing out to us, the audience, in front of the altarpiece. This is a kind of a welcome to participate in what's going on in the painting. And the "Holy Conversation" was kind of a democratization of the church in the late 15th century, to try to appeal more directly to popular Christian audiences, to make sacred beings not seem quite as inaccessible. They're more approachable. They're not just sacred beings, they're also part human beings, and you can have a conversation with them. You can sit down and chat with them, you know. And so that's basically what the "Holy Conversation" is all about. And Warner just simply takes that and puts in an American Renaissance, late 19th century American secular context. And now what they're talking about is knowledge. Now what they're passing on is knowledge. So again, it's another example of the broad net that American Renaissance artists throw out in terms of finding their influences in the past, but again, the effective, reasonable, relevant role models that they can adapt for their own purposes, to the purposes of the late 19th century American Western culture, and, you know, the needs of the living human beings at that time. Now, to put that relief in a larger 19th century American context, I want to show this image, briefly, of the north pediment - the north pediment on the east side of the Capitol Building, which we see here. This is the Senate side, this triangular space above what originally was the main entrance to this wing of the Capitol Building, once it was built at the time of the Civil War. This triangular space is called the pediment, p-e-d-i-m-e-n-t, and is derived from ancient Greek temples. And on ancient Greek temples, the pediment was a very important site for sculpture. The Parthenon, for example, the sculptures from the Parthenon were derived from two pediments, an east pediment and west pediment of the Parthenon. It was one of the places on a Greek temple that the Greeks said, well, we've got to put sculpture here. It's very important to put sculpture here. Many of you may know that most of the rites, most of the events that took place in connection with an ancient Greek temple did not take place on the inside of the temple; they took place on the outside of the temple, under the sky. So a lot of the decoration -- primary decoration of an ancient Greek temple is on the outside of the temple, because that's where people could see it when they were going through the rites, and so on that they were practicing in relation to the temple. So the pediment was a place that the Greeks designated as a very important piece to put sculpture. So in the middle of the 19th century, as the two wings are being added to the Capitol Building because the country has grown so much since the end of the 18th century -- they needed a lot more space for all of the new members of Congress that we had -- they added the two wings to the building. And the superintendent of that expansion was a man named Montgomery Meigs, who you've probably heard about any number of times; a very important figure in the history of Washington architecture, Montgomery Meigs, M-e-i-g-s. And it was Meigs's idea to put these pediments on the east side of these two wings, because they weren't on the original plans of the building as designed by Thomas Walter, who was the architect who designed the expansion of these two wings. Meigs thought, well, let's put two pediments on there, because Meigs calculated, now, it's the middle of the 19th century, American sculptors are starting to define an American tradition of sculpture, let's create some opportunities for them, okay. So it was literally -- the pediments were added, literally, to provide an opportunity for American sculptors to show how American sculpture had advanced since the 18th century. And this particular pediment, the south pediment, the Senate pediment, the sculpture here was designed by a mid-19th century American sculptor, Thomas Crawford, C-R-A-W-F-O-R-D; same sculptor who did the "Armed Freedom" that's on top of the dome. And he called it "The Progress of Civilization," "The Progress of Civilization." The figure at the center is a personification, once again. Sculptors working in the middle of the 19th century were very much part of the classical tradition, so the American Renaissance isn't the only period that American artists, you know, draw major influences from the classical tradition. It's, in a sense, another classical revival. The middle of the 19th century was similar. So, Crawford was very much dependent on classical statues. That personification signifies America. It's a female figure that represents America. On this side there are figures that represent what Crawford called the new masters of the American continent. There's a Revolutionary War soldier, there's a teacher, I'm not sure which one is the teacher, this one might be the teacher here. Anyway, there's a teacher. There's a figure that represents agriculture, there's a figure that represents navigation, which is this figure at the bottom here, okay. These represent the new forces that are taking over the continent. Just to this side of America, there is this figure who is the pioneer, chopping down a tree right here. The tree stump is the most common image in 19th century American art for the idea of progress. The other most common image of progress in the 19th century is what, do you think, besides the tree stump? Female Speaker: The locomotive. Tom Somma: The train, very good. Yeah, the train, the locomotive. The trains and the tree stump -- you see the train and the tree stump in 19th century American paintings, landscape paintings, particularly before the Civil War, but also after the Civil War. What becomes a symbol of progress after the Civil War is the harvested field. Before the Civil War it's the tree stump and the train, because the tree stump represents the settling of the continent, the train represents the bringing of materials and people out to the continent to help settle the continent. After the Civil War the harvested field is a metaphor for the sacrifice of Americans who died on American soil. It's the harvest of their sacrifice. So metaphorically it's the harvest of the field. And they died on those fields. Their blood soaked into those fields. The real harvest is they ensured the destiny of America. So, after the Civil War the most positive theme of progress and ensuring the destiny of America is the harvested field. But this is a very common symbol. And all of this, "Progress of Civilization" symbolizes Manifest Destiny, a very important idea in mid-19th century American culture, Manifest Destiny, okay. In fact, it's so significant it's often referred to as the doctrine of Manifest Destiny. Basically, what that is, is essentially a divinely appointed task for Western culture along the Eastern seaboard, to domesticate the continent and move westward; to domesticate the continent and make it productive for the benefit of humankind and the glory of God. It's really seen as a divinely appointed task, Manifest Destiny. And a lot of landscape paintings -- for example, there are some over in the National Gallery: George Inness's "Lackawanna Valley," 1855, if you want to look at a painting over there at exactly the same time -- this pediment dates 1856 to 1863. So, celebrating this concept of we must domesticate the continent and move across the continent, make it productive for the benefit of culture and for the glory of God; very important, very powerful, motivating value in mid-19th century American culture. And that's what this part of the pediment represents. Now, unfortunately Manifest Destiny also provided the rationale for the near eradication of Native Americans. Why? Because they didn't domesticate anything. They didn't cultivate anything. They were pagan. They had no technology that we could appreciate. They didn't write anything down. They were outside -- in other words, to mid-19th century Americans, the prevailing cultural value in mid-19th century America was that Native Americans did not contribute to the progress of civilization. So, Crawford puts them in the corner. These last figures in the corner over here are images of Native Americans. This one is a dying Indian chief, and this one is a Native American woman with her squaw, lamenting at the grave of her husband; images of a culture in demise. And here is a close-up of the figure. This is an exact replica in marble, also by Crawford, of that figure. This is at the New York Historical Society, so you can see this statue in New York. This is an exact replica in marble by Crawford: "A Dying Indian Chief Contemplating the Demise of His Race" is the full title, "A Dying Indian Chief Contemplating the Demise of His Race" -- again reflecting the prevailing cultural value, cultural view in America in the middle of the 19th century that Native Americans did not contribute to the progress of civilization. They are outside of the progress of civilization. Well, this is 1863, Warner's image is 1897, so we're about 30 years, and the prevailing cultural view has completely changed. By the time we get to the end of the 19th century, the prevailing cultural view is that Native Americans did contribute to the progress of civilization, along with all of these other peoples that earlier, mid-19th century and earlier were considered outside of the progress of civilization. So we have, on two buildings across from one another, in stone and bronze for all to see, a moral progression in only 30 years. Which is -- I can't think of a better example in art of one of the glories of our system; that a value that is in the minority does not get squashed. Our system maintains the legitimacy of minority opinions, okay. And if that minority has any truth to it, carries anything that's true in it, okay, as long as it survives, ultimately it will become the prevailing majority opinion. That is one of the real glories of our system, okay. And the great thing is that you can show people right on statues that are right outside, on two buildings across from one another. Unfortunately, nobody ever does that, okay, because it's just not -- I've talked to the docent program at the Capitol Building and I've talked to the U.S. Capitol Historical Society, and I've mentioned it a couple of times here, and it just doesn't conveniently fall into any kind of tour that you can give people, okay. But I think it's, as I said, in stone and marble for all to see, really one of the glories of a system that from the very beginning views -- majority opinion -- you know, majority opinion is one of those things that's very democratic, right? I mean, obviously we depend on majority opinion for basically all of the decisions that we make. Look at this recent election. The junior governor from Virginia won out of more than 2 million votes cast only by a little over 6,000 votes. I mean, that majority of the 6,000 votes put one person in the Senate over another, okay. Majority opinion is very important to us, okay. But there are problems with majority opinion, okay, which the Founders, particularly Madison, knew right from the start. You know, there are problems with majority opinion. What's one basic problem with majority opinion? Male Speaker: You can end up with a dictatorship of the majority. Tom Somma: Yes, what Madison called the tyranny of the majority. And a lot of the Constitution was written as an antidote to the tyranny of the majority, as well as the entire structure of the political system. One of the primary things that it is an antidote for is the tyranny of the majority, but what's another problem with majority opinion? Yeah? Male Speaker: It can be wrong. Dr. Tom Somma: It can be wrong, yeah. It can be wrong. Nobody says that majority opinion is right; it's just majority opinion. American history is filled with majority opinion being completely wrong, right? Up until the early 20th century majority opinion said that women shouldn't have the right to vote, that women shouldn't own property. For most of America's history, majority opinion was that African Americans were less than fully human, okay. Minority opinions, however, were otherwise. Minority opinions held more of the truth, okay. Minority opinions in our system were not squashed, so eventually minority opinions become majority opinions. So, for my money, that's one of the great things about our system. So, here we see that moral progression. Now, you know, we can look back at the American Renaissance period and still see a lot of things wrong. I mean, you know, they tend to be quite arrogant, over confident, nationalistic, imperialistic, and any number of other things, okay, but we're a work in progress, you know. America and democracy is a work in progress. We've only been around, what, 250 years? That's nothing. We're not even sure how the experiment's going to work. Yeah, come back in a couple thousand years and let's see if it's worked, you know. I mean, one good way to look at it, one way I very often look at it, is America is an experiment in applied Enlightenment philosophy. You know, our political system is ultimately rooted in French late 18th century Enlightenment philosophy. What is the best situation for living human peoples to live in, in terms of their political structure? Ideally, oh, democracy, equality, fraternity, all that stuff, okay. Those are ideals, right? Enlightenment philosophy, that was ideals. The French couldn't figure out how to apply it. It degenerated very quickly into terror, right? Americans figured out how to do it. As unwieldy as it is, American Founders figured out, let's take these ideals and let's see if we can figure out, actually, a system that works in the real world. Again, that's idealism, pragmatism. Let's take the ideals and let's figure out a system that actually works for living human beings. It's unwieldy, it's certainly not as efficient as a dictator or a fascist dictator. That's a very, very efficient political system. It can turn on a dime, it can make decisions very quickly. In America it takes forever for us to make decisions, but still it's based on ideals; how you play those ideals in some way to actually make a system that's workable. So, we're an experiment. We're still an experiment in applied Enlightenment philosophy. Okay, moving -- actually, I'm doing pretty well. It's 25 after 11. We go until 12? Male Speaker: Yes. Tom Somma: Okay. Moving into the Main Reading Room, just to talk a little more about some specific statues, and the collar painting when we go on tour. But just to give you the general layout of the sculptural program of the Main Reading Room, there are eight plaster personifications. One rests at the springing of the arches. You see the arches that go around the room? This is the gallery level here. This upper level, where these arches start, that's called the springing of the arches. And at the springing of the arches there is a -- and at each springing of the arches there is a heroic size plaster personification, each representing a major category of thought or knowledge in human history. The statue of Art was done by August Saint-Gaudens, a very important late 19th century American sculptor. It was worked primarily in bronze, although these figures, these personifications called for statutes in plaster. There was some talk early on about eventually converting them into marble, but that never happened. It would've been incredibly expensive. They were expensive enough as it was, so that never happened, so they are in plaster. Saint Gaudens -- yes? Male Speaker: Do you know how expensive was expensive? Tom Somma: Well, I'll tell you this, that each sculptor that got a major commission for each of these statues in the Main Reading Room, in the rotunda, were paid $5,000, okay. But that included their making of several sketch models, and depending on which had to be sent to New York, which is where the art jury was. The art jury was comprised of Saint-Gaudens, another man named Ward, and I think Daniel Chester French, and they were all in New York. So the sculptors had to make their model and send it to New York. Once their model was accepted they had to make their statue. They had to pay for it to be cast in bronze or carved in marble, whatever it was going to be, and then they had to pay for it to be shipped to Washington. I guarantee you none of them made any money. All that put together cost a lot more than $5,000, but it's something that we haven't really talked about. That's part of the incredible authority of Thomas Lincoln Casey, who was the architect -- you've probably heard of him in some other talks -- who was in charge of the building of the Library. He actually brought the building under cost, and the decorations weren't even part of the original appropriations. He actually brought the building under the original congressional appropriations, which didn't even include the decoration of the building. He paid that all out of the original appropriations, and still had money left over. So, I think partly the sculptors were so happy to be involved in such a major commission like this. They considered it would be a major factor in their careers to be associated with such a significant building. That really didn't work out, except for one or two. In any case, getting back to the sculptural program. And if you're interested in works by Saint-Gaudens that are in the area, his wonderful Shaw Memorial, the statue to Robert Gould Shaw and the 54th Massachusetts, which was an African American regiment from Massachusetts that was celebrated in that movie with Denzel Washington called "Glory" -- did you see that a couple of years ago? I think Denzel Washington won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor. Anyway, Saint-Gaudens did the wonderful memorial. The full-scale plaster, gold gilded model for that is on long-term loan at the National Gallery [of Art] here. And there's also his Adams Memorial, which is in Rock Creek Cemetery. But he was probably, along with Daniel Chester French, the leading American sculptor at the end of the 20th century. He did the statue. Now, that's art. So, going around the room at the gallery level, coming down to either side from that personification would be two historical portraits in bronze, okay, of figures that the designers of the building decided made significant contributions to that category. So, for art we come down to this side, and this is a statue of Michelangelo, and this is by Paul Bartlett, like the pear, B-A-R-T-L-E-T-T. Michelangelo represents painting, sculpture and architecture, because he did all three and he did them pretty well. And then down to the right here is a statue of Beethoven, and this is by a little American sculptor from the time, Theodore Baur. By the way, when I did research for the sculptural program, one of the fun things was that it was almost entirely from primary documents, because one of the hard things was that there nothing hardly ever written about it, so you had to go just primarily to primary documents. And I couldn't even verify Baur's life dates. And still today, I don't think we can verify Baur's life dates. Again, it shows you how a lot of the artists that decorated this building thought very highly of it at the time, because again, in the modernist 20th century they just fell completely out of vogue, and nobody studied them, nobody considered them important for over a hundred years. But it's beginning to come back now. So, that goes around the rotunda. Okay, you have the personification at the springing, and then coming down to the left and right, at gallery level you have bronze historical portraits of key figures who made major contributions to that category. I thought I'd bring in an image of this figure. This is the first statue to be installed in the Main Reading Room, and its personification as you can see at the bottom there, this is of "History." And this statue was designed by Daniel Chester French, who is better known as the sculptor for the seated Lincoln in the Lincoln Memorial. This statue -- just to give you a little bit more - this statue arrived in pieces because it's plaster, it arrived in several pieces and was all plastered together into one piece on the floor of the rotunda, and then hauled up into position. And these are plaster. Plaster's fairly heavy, but they're also weighted underneath here so that they stay in position. The statue of Michelangelo by Bartlett, this is another one of the works that I consider to be one of the two or three best works of art in the building. Again, it's sculpture. Surprise, it's sculpture! But there are good reasons -- I have good reasons for considering it one of the best. First of all, Bartlett didn't follow the rules that he was given by the supervising architects. One of the features, one of the characteristics of architectural sculpture -- that is, sculpture that is designed to either be put onto a building or designed for a particular site within a building -- is that very often, in many ways it has to conform to characteristics of the space, of the site that it's going to be attached to. And it was particularly important in the rotunda, when you were going to have eight personifications and 16 bronze historical portraits, all by different sculptors. The supervising architects, Lincoln Casey and his son, Edward Pierce Casey, sent out to all of these sculptors a very detailed list of characteristics that they had to follow. You know, they have to be so tall, you have to use this much mixture of tin and copper and so on to make the bronze, it has to have -- it can't have any patina when it arrives -- patina is the chemically induced color of the bronze -- can't have any color added to it, just the normal color of bronze, feet have to be close together, on and on and on and on and on. Well, Bartlett ignored pretty much all of that, okay, because he felt that Michelangelo, Michelangelo, Michelangelo, was too -- Michelangelo was just too important to just be treated like all of the other statues at the Library of Congress. I mean, Michelangelo is just too important, especially to sculptors, okay. Because the whole tradition of 19th century American bronze sculpture is going back through French bronze sculpture -- particularly Auguste Rodin -- back to Michelangelo. That's the legacy; Michelangelo, to Rodin, to late 19th century American bronze sculpture. So Michelangelo is the ultimate ancestor. And so Bartlett felt that not only is the statue so important because it's Michelangelo, but oh, here's my chance to show that I'm better than all of the other sculptors, so I'm going to make a statue that's better than all of the other sculptures. So, in a sense what he did was he overlooked the real demands of his commission, which was to create a statue that was a good statue, but fit in with the ensemble of the other murals and sculptures that were being commissioned by the supervising architects. The fact that so many muralists and sculptors followed that approach and made works that contributed to this ensemble effect is one reason why the decoration of the Library of Congress is so good, you know, because they, they sublimated their own individuality and own decisions and choices about certain things to the architect's choices, so that everything would blend and be harmonious and be unified. The harmony of the arts, architecture, painting and sculpture is another major characteristic of American Renaissance interior design, and it's the result of most of these artists studying in France, studying at the French School of Fine Arts, which is called the cole des Beaux-Arts, so it's part of what's called now "Beaux-Arts Design," that interior design that you harmonize the paintings, sculpture and architecture all together. So in a sense it's sort of like a symphony, and each art form plays its role within the symphony, but everything is harmonized together and you have this beautiful whole. So it's up to the architects to try to orchestrate all that. And most of the artists were willing to go along with that, and again, that's one of the reasons why the decoration is so great. Bartlett didn't quite go along with that. I mean, he saw it as an opportunity to show off. And because of that, he had constant arguments with the architects. Michelangelo was the last statue to be installed in the rotunda. It wasn't the absolute last work to be done, to be completed for the building. That was Flannigan's clock, which unfortunately again, for my money is the third one of the best works of art in the building. And two out of the three can't be seen by tours, because you don't give tours on the outside. And the clock is directly beneath the gallery where you stand to look out at the rotunda. It's directly beneath, so you can't see it. So, to my mind, two out of the best three sculptures in the whole building you can't even show on tour, which -- what are you going to do? Okay, so, Michelangelo. And here is a -- just to give you a close-up of the head, this is a bronze replica of the head of Michelangelo. This is at the Museum of the National Academy of Design in New York. This is just a photograph of the bronze statue before it was put up in place, okay. And it shows Michelangelo dressed in a studio apron and a studio cap, meaning that he's at work on a piece of sculpture. It's not just sort of a detached statue of Michelangelo just kind of standing there. It's Michelangelo at work, okay. Which I think is a nice thing to talk about if you want to get into that kind of thing. A lot has been written about the way Michelangelo worked; you know, the idea of Michelangelo seeing the figure trapped in the block, okay. He was very often asked why, you know, he was such a great sculptor, and he said, "I'm not a great sculptor. The figure was always in there. What I did, I just released it. It was always in the block." So he saw the image in the block, and of course the religious metaphors for that is phenomenal because the nude figure coming out of the block is a metaphor for the soul trapped in the body. The body is the block. What's trapped in the body is the soul. And what Michelangelo does is release the soul from the body. It's a very spiritual and very religious -- again, that's the Renaissance. And you end up with a beautiful nude, so again he's merging antiquity with the Christian tradition. But the point here to make is that this is Michelangelo at work, okay. He's got the apron and cap on to keep all the dust off, you know. You're carving in marble, there's dust flying everywhere. One of the inventions that Michelangelo is famous for is he invented this thing where he would drape the block that he was working on, and he had this thing dripping water onto the statue where he was working so it would hold down the dust; a tremendously dirty job, carving in marble. And the other interesting thing about Michelangelo is that he would finish it right to the very end. Most marble carvers, certainly in the 19th century, would make a model, okay, hand it to a studio filled with stone carvers, "Here, put it in stone," and the stone carvers, using machines that transferred measurements from the model to the block of marble, would make the final statue. In some cases, but not always, the sculptor would come back and do the finishing touches on the surface and so on, and some of the details of the final - the finished carving, but not always. Michelangelo, right to the end, his statues are the result of his hands at work. So, the idea in his mind of the figure that was trapped in the block, and the work of his hands releases that from the block, Bartlett emphasizes the head and the hands, okay, especially since the figure's going to be seen from almost 80 feet below. He exaggerates the size of the most important parts of the figure, okay, exactly the same way that Rodin does with his figures, if you've studied at all Rodin's sculpture. He does exactly the same thing. The way to the interior of the figure, to show what the figure is feeling, the psychology, the emotions, which is what Rodin was interested in, the pathway into the figure is the face, the head and the hands, okay. So, that's the way you get inside the figure; a little bit the stances and postures and gestures, but really it's the hands and the face. So, that's what he's learned from Rodin, and he's passing that along. But again, Michelangelo at work. This is the workman, the craftsman, the someone who's making something with his hands, okay. This is another aspect of the progressivism of the imagery in the building. Michelangelo is celebrated here as a worker, a worker with his hands. This ties directly into the arts and crafts movement, which is celebrating the handmade object versus factories and assembly lines and things like that, that are beginning to take over commercial, commercial production in America. You know, the arts and crafts movement develops in reaction to that, first in England with William Morris, then in America with sort of the American William Morris, which is Elbert Hubbard from Upstate New York. And that whole ideology is we can't lose track of the value of the well-made object by human hands. That's what really still holds value. And we can't lose sight of the tact that it's the person who made something with their hands that we need to prize and value in American culture, as those values seem to be coming under attack with assembly lines and factories and over industrialization and things like that. So you see, Bartlett is putting quite a bit of thought into I, okay. He's also designing his figure with another very important statue here in Washington in mind. Does anybody know what this statue is on the right? Female Speaker: Thomas Jefferson. Dr. Tom Somma: Thomas Jefferson, and it's where? Female Speaker: I don't know. Male Speaker: It's at the Capitol. Dr. Tom Somma: It's the Capitol Rotunda (Rotunda). Thomas Jefferson in the Capitol Rotunda, and it's by what sculptor? It's not American; it's French. David, D-A-V-I-D, and little D, apostrophe, A-N-G-E-R -S, d'Angers, David d'Angers. That's to distinguish him from Jacque Louis David, who is a much more famous David from French art, who was the painter. This is David, but this is David from the town of Angers, so it's David d'Angers. That's what the d'Angers means; he's from the town of Angers; same as Leonardo da Vinci. Leonardo da Vinci, da Vinci is really not his last name. Da Vinci means he's from the town of Vinci, to distinguish him from any other Leonardo that you might know. So, when you refer to him, you should refer to him as Leonardo. Same with David d'Angers, refer to him as David, or David d'Angers. And for my money, this statue by David d'Angers is the most important statue in Washington, or at least one of the two most important statues of art here, because this statue was put up in the Rotunda in 1834. That is really early for a full-size bronze portrait statue to be set up in Washington. In fact, as far as I can tell -- and I've written and done research on this statue -- it's the first statue, first full-size bronze historical portrait statue put up in a public place in Washington, in 1834. Designed in 1832 to 1833, it shows Jefferson at work on the Declaration of Independence. In fact, he holds the Declaration of Independence in his left hand, and in his right hand he holds the pen that he wrote it [with], and he holds it to his heart. And does anybody know who commissioned it? His name was Uriah Levy. He was a Jewish man in the U.S. Navy. He commissioned it directly from David d'Angers. He went to France, commissioned it from David d'Angers. David d'Angers did it, Levy brought it back with him, brought it to the Capitol, gave it as a gift to Congress and a gift to the nation. It wasn't commissioned by Congress; Levy paid for it on his own. Jefferson was a hero of his because of his stance on religious freedom, which made it possible for a Jewish man to be in the American Navy. And he gave it, set it up, at his own cost, in the Rotunda. And most people didn't like it. I think a lot of people didn't like it because they didn't like Levy. But also, it's very early for a bronze historical portrait. In 1834, people are still used to seeing things in marble. A couple years later, 1841, the [Horatio] Greenough statue of George Washington comes along and is installed in the Rotunda. It's not there very long, but for a short time, maybe a year or two, those two statues were together in the Rotunda. Nobody really liked the Jefferson until they saw the Greenough Washington. Then all of a sudden they started saying, well, Jefferson's not so bad now that I see the Greenough. But one of the reasons why they didn't like the bronze Jefferson is because, first of all it's a little early for bronze, but it's a popular image of Jefferson. By that I mean, it's not Jefferson shown dressed in his perfect regalia. I'm not sure Jefferson ever even did dress that way, if you've read about how he would go around the White House in slippers and a bathrobe and things like that. Anyway, the point is that he showed Jefferson dressed the way he would have been dressed writing the Declaration of Independence in his apartment in Philadelphia; he's got buckled shoes, breach pants, kind of a housecoat. A similar comparison would be to have a portrait of George W. [Bush] in a t-shirt and blue jeans. So, people just weren't ready to see a portrait like that. The point was that this is the point where art is moving from idealism to realism, especially in American art. Americans are much more interested in the extent that a work of art has drawn in realistic experience into the painting or into the statue, because Americans tend to judge things in terms of their practical application in the real world. Again, it's that idealism vs. pragmatism. In any case, this statue sets the stage for the whole tradition of 19th century bronze historical portraiture in American art. All of the statues you see around Washington, whether they're equestrian or single bronze historical portraits, this is their ancestor, the David d'Angers, the first statue by David d'Angers who represents this shift from marble sculpture to bronze sculpture; the first statue by David d'Angers, designed by him to be in bronze from the very beginning. So he takes advantage of the bronze medium to have a statue that's very, very detailed. In fact, the entire Declaration of Independence was written on this bronze here. okay. And what Jefferson is doing -- by writing the Declaration of Independence, he is creating an instrument that is converting idealism into political reality, okay. But it's that realism of the statue that eventually wins over American audiences. And so that's the kind of statue - that's the kind of historical portrait statue that we see throughout the rest of the 19th century, right to the end of the 19th century. And Bartlett recognizes that by putting his Michelangelo in the exact same stance and gesture of the Thomas Jefferson, only laterally reversed. He's paying homage to the statue, saying this is the ultimate source of not only this statue, but all of 19th century bronze historical portraiture, by putting it in the exact same stance and gesture, only laterally reversed. There was a question over here? Male Speaker: This is just a comment. I just finished reading "Adams," and I think there are some historians who would say that is representing -- that's an idealistic image. The real Jefferson is a very spiffy dresser, imported his clothing from France, unlike Adams, who wore homespun clothing. And some historians, I think, would argue with you that it was the opposite. Tom Somma: Okay. Yeah, but that actually makes the point even more, see. David d'Angers is doing this intentionally. He's showing him not the way someone normally would be represented in a high art portrait, public portrait, okay? He's showing him dressed the way he would never want to be seen, the way he would never sit for a portrait. This is the more real Thomas Jefferson, the kind of Jefferson that's living in his apartment. He's there for days, writing the Declaration of Independence. You know, he's not out in public. He's got like a housecoat on, right, you know, dressed in the clothes that you wear around the house, okay. Now, I don't know if he did wear that when he was there, but the point is that David d'Angers is showing him that way, okay, pointing out that this is what Jefferson looked like when he was writing the Declaration of Independence. This is the realism. And Americans like that, see, because the American idea of a hero, for example, is someone that's just like us, but then goes off and does something great. But other than that, they're just like us. Why? Because we could do the same thing. Anybody could do it. Anybody could do it. So, that's the kind of hero that Americans like, and that's what's represented here. So, just to give you a little more context for the Michelangelo statue, and just to note. By the way, Levy single-handedly saves Monticello. He buys Monticello. Within two years of delivering this statue to the Capitol, he buys Monticello, and little by little during his lifetime he buys up land that had been sold off, he buys household things that originally belonged to Jefferson, brought them back, and his ancestors continued the legacy of building up, saving Monticello, right up until the 20th century, right up until the establishment of the Thomas Jefferson Memorial Foundation, which was in the early '20s. If it weren't for Levy and his descendents, we would have lost Monticello completely. Yeah, back there? Male Speaker: It seems that the reversal of the positions is the same as with the Minerva and Athena that you had showed us earlier. The Minerva and Athena is the same way. It's -- Tom Somma: Yeah, Vedder did a similar thing. But here it resonates that much more, by Bartlett drawing attention to the fact that, well, this is the ultimate - this is the statue that started all of these bronze historical portraits. It's a very important bronze historical portrait tradition in 19th century sculpture. Yeah? Male Speaker: It might be good to mention that in the volunteer room there's a filing cabinet with articles on various subjects, including your article -- I thought quite an interesting article -- on the Michelangelo statue. Tom Somma: On the Michelangelo, yeah. That's from the Capitol Dome, right? Male Speaker: I think so, yeah. Tom Somma: They did the periodical from the U.S. Capitol Historical Society? Male Speaker: Yes, that's it. Tom Somma: Yeah. Well, I know our time is up, but I just wanted to show this statue. This is a replica of the Michelangelo that's in East Aurora, New York. Elbert Hubbard was so moved -- and this shows you how that statue tied directly into arts and crafts -- Elbert Hubbard, when he saw Bartlett's Michelangelo, was so moved by the statue because it celebrated handmade objects that he asked for a copy of the statue, which Bartlett made for him at cost. He didn't charge him anything; just the cost of making it. And Hubbard took it up and put it on the campus of his arts and crafts group called the Roycrofters in East Aurora, N. Y. And this is a more recent photograph that I took of it. It's now on the campus of East Aurora High School, but it shows you how that statue also fit into arts and crafts. Is that it, Jim? Male Speaker: Thank you very much. Tom Somma: Okay, okay. [applause] Thank you. [end of transcript]