Arts and Letters

Adolph Weinman, for as long as I knew him—and it was a long time—had been a strong and dynamic force for good in the art of American sculpture.

I first met him when he was charged with placing a huge exhibition of sculpture at the old Madison Square Garden. He still was obviously in his twenties, yet his peers had called on him to perform this difficult and often sharply criticized task, for they knew he would be fair and just. From that time, until the end of his life, his executive ability was always at the forefront for his art.

However, his activities covered many facets of his artistic career.

He aided and encouraged young sculptors, urging them to search out their own individual style and cling to it. He went to them in their small studios in various parts of the city, at great sacrifice of his valuable time. This he did continually and with pleasure.

He also played a major part in the important task of framing rules governing sculpture competitions. Before his time drawings, clay-sketches, even photographs were submitted, together with plaster models, at any scale or color, and without setting—making it impossible for a jury to give a fair decision. The new method, devised with his help, has been used ever since with success. It has been particularly valuable in sculpture competitions held by the United States Government.

The National Sculpture Society owes much, in many other ways, to Weinman's ardent work of over forty years in its behalf. He served several years as its President, and later was elected its Honorary President.

So much for what he did outside of his studio.

As a sculptor, he was constantly sought after to decorate monumental buildings. And his talent was used by most of the great architects of his period. For example, the two important relief panels on the Morgan Library—which McKim asked him to do—are an intrinsic part of the total design and are entirely in accord with that beautiful little gem of architecture. The pediments on the Post-Office Building in Washington, done for Delano, fit the architecture with grace, perfection, and proper style. John Russell Pope entrusted to him, on the Pennsylvania Avenue side of the National Archives Building, in Washington, one of the most complicated and longest pediments ever created. It has in its composition fifteen or more figures, some of them eighteen feet high, all carved in stone. Those studying this pediment closely will find it poetic in conception, beautiful in design and in form. Then there is the long marble frieze of the Lawmakers in the Supreme Court, in Washington, which has been exceptionally well publicized and is widely known; yet few know that its design and execution were assigned to Weinman by Cass Gilbert.

What higher praise can a sculptor gain than being chosen by such architects as McKim, Delano, Gilbert, and Pope, as the sculptor to enhance their great monumental structures? Weinman, I know, felt highly honored to be selected by such distinguished architects. He once told me that among all the honors which he had received, he treasured most the medal of the Institute of Architects.

However, the range of his art was not limited. It extended from the very largest pieces to the very smallest—from a one-hundred-and-eight-foot pediment, with figures eighteen feet high, to the tiny ten-cent piece minted by the United States Government. This is a truly great variation. Yet the dime, infinitesimal in size compared with most of his other work, is considered a beautiful coin—one of the best done in any nation, at this period.

In another artistic vein, I should like to mention a fine portrait statue, of McComb, by Weinman. I consider it an unusual work. It stands well among the few great portrait statues that American sculptors have produced. And may I add here, that this is most important, for our sculptors have done a goodly number of portrait statues which hold their own with any ever produced—portraits such as the Puritan, and Farragut by Saint-Gaudens; the Nathan Hale by MacMonnies, and others by various sculptors. All of these are totally American in conception, which adds much to their worth. There are, unfortunately, so many mediocre statues that we lose sight of those great ones which have kept pace with the ages.

His last public work was the finished model of a twenty-foot statue to be placed in an architectural niche beyond the far end of the Arlington Memorial Bridge, in Washington. This, I believe, is the completing motive of architect Kendall's vast scheme for the bridge approach, from the Lincoln Memorial to Arlington Cemetery.

I could list many more of his works, for he was most prolific. I think that this partial list, however, will be sufficient to prove that no sculptor of his time was more sought after to adorn our important monumental buildings than Weinman.

Adolph Weinman was a man of high temper, yet sensitive and gentle, with a fine sense of humor. He was a great friend and a furious fighter against anything he thought wrong. We could do well with more of his like.