THE EXHIBITION

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 7447, 23 May 1911, Page 9

THE EXHIBITION

BEFORE THE CERTAIN RISES. A crowd of people coming and going, an alternate blaze of light and glimmer of darkness j distant sounds of hammering and the shrill whistling of a popular tune echoing from above. These were the impressions gathered as one entered the huge exhibition building at dusk _ last evening. There was not much talking—it was "deeds, not words"—and amid what picturesque and suggestive sur- . roundings! I Here a white and gold pillared front, empty now of all but tlio busy workers, but presently to be filled with gleam of satin and shimmer of silk, and the rich bloom of trailing velvets; there an alcove warm with scarlet drapiugs and massed in the foreground the amber and apricot and pale lemon of bottled fruits and conserves ready to form a trophy of what 1 the Germans so appreciably term "Delicatessen.’’ On one Ixand is a quaint summer house of draped green and white muslin. What goddess is to occupy this shrino? Across a vista of shadow from which baro beams show like skeleton arms there is a glimpse of a charming Htticed lea kiosk with a well-known name i above it. ' Here brown shadows brood, and the pale I rose and opal lights of a lovely collection iof seasheJJs gleam fantastically. Near at hand a miniature suite of rooms disj plays the marvellous advantages of Some I ingenious advertiser. Scantily draped , with ineffectual coverings, a great pile ! of travelling rugs and tweeds looms mas- | sively, and not far off are wondrous designs of multicoloured soaps and caudles. I Hero is a bower of mirrors of every con--1 coivable shape aud size; and there a 1 great model of a graceful frigate,, her j sajls and ratlines shrouded with glittcr- ; ing icicles, and all around her the i pitiless piled up ice. The men axe putting the last touches to the stand; the I artist, a worn, grey-haired man, stands j silently by, but with an artist’s rare and fleeting sat.sfaction in his oyts. Everywhere the workers are busy; ' ovexywhexo is manifest the concentrated , effort that is evoking order and beauty ! from chaos and nakedness. Lights gleam from endless vistas and are broken by ' the bulk of some darkened stand, only to be prisoned by a huge sheet of.elate . glass and flung back upon a crimson ; wail a pile of gorgeous merchandise, a ’ gleaming mass of copper or some strange strand of colour emerging. from the shadows. All is vague, disconnected, suggestive as a dream, till from this annexe or down that long vista, or up that broad stairway, you oomo upon long lines of i completed stands closely veiled and protected alike from dust and prying (.yes. And presently, your eyes becoming used alike to shine and shadow, you realise that it only needs a tew hours more ot ' such work as that which is going on all I around you to link up the whole great plan of colour and beauty into a delightnil whole. Dimly through, tho flickering shadows are tiiscornablo the gold frames that indicate we are at the threshold of the picture gallery. Down a distant stairway ( pass two feminine figures like the figures of a dream. Hero in a patch of light a woman, armed with a broom and pail, works with a will, but the great stadium far overhead is all in darkness, and we must wait to wonder at its vast proportions until Wednesday. —ZEALANEIA.