State

Mural Seven FOUNDING OF THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA In the series pointed by Francis V . Kughler for the Institute of Government building in Chapel Hill It ha* been said by learned men since ancient times that one picture can say more than many thousands of words. The simplest and most convincing way to tell the story of the founding of the University of North Carolina was to depict the laying of the corner¬ stone of its first building. No other picture could tell the story in so direct a fashion. The thing that troubled me was that I had always had a deep-rooted aversion for formal affairs, and through¬ out these murals I had tried to avoid them. 1 knew that I could never get off to a proper start on this mural without removing that mental block: I had to find an exciting springboard somewhere. I took to re-reading the description of this ceremony written shortly after it occurred. There was something in the way the writer was stirred by the beautiful colors of the autumn leaves on that day that struck a responsive chord. It could not be the reference to the trees that aroused me because they could only be used in the background of the painting: if used in the foreground, they would obscure the scene. Nor could they appear in the middle distance since the builder would of necessity have cleared the immediate area of all vegetation including trees regardless of their beauty. I took to wandering around Old l ast, the building whose corner¬ stone laying was my theme, seeking for inspiration. One day in a particularly frustrated mood. I wound up on a bench staring up at the ancient Davie Poplar. This tree, named for the founder of the University, was a large one w hen the cornerstone was laid well over a hundred and sixlv years before. When I had made my preparatory sketches for the mural I had tried to include it. but the perspective would not permit it. As I 4,1 on the bench, a flurry of leaves glinting like gold in the sun came whirling down from the Poplar. No other tree was shedding its leaves I noticed idly, and there seemed to be no wind stirring. I he cascade must have been caused by a leaping squirrel: there were many of them about. It made an attractive picture. Some day I would have to paint something like that. I mused a windless day with gleaming leaves falling mystically from a motionless tree. I caught myself up. What was I thinking about? Some day. in¬ deed! This golden shower of leaves touched off a spark in me. I could do anything with that motif . . . sunlit leaves falling across the canvas. I could paint in as many or as few leaves as I liked and spot them wherever I desired But it wasn’t the leaves alone that was so exciting: the idea of light also seemed to be involved in some mysterious wav. But what a relief! The feeling of dullness about the idea of the cornerstone laying had disappeared from my mind. It suddenly became quite clear to me that this was not just another tiresome ceremony with pompous people making boring speeches, but a significant and iinpoitant occasion. The people of North Carolina had just finished fighting the Revolutionary War. Much blood had been shed and many loved ones had been lost in this fight for freedom: their greatest impulse now was to preserve that freedom. Higher education had been made the duty of the state, and North Carolinians had set up the first state University as a bulwark of their liberty. The seal of the University had been engraved with the head of Apollo, the god of light and manly beauty, and bore the motto "Lux et I ibertas.” My inertia was gone; I had the note I needed. I went enthusiasti¬ cally to work and laid out the details of a scene of quiet but intense nobility, of neighbors gathered together in a simple but deeply earnest rite. When the time came to finish the central group. I felt my way with the utmost care: this would be the keynote of the entire picture. The mood of the whole painting would be established by the personality of the central figure. The man who had officiated at this ceremony was the dashing cavalry officer and Revolutionary War hero. William Richardson Davie. I wondered if there was a descendant of Davie living today who resembled him; if so. I would recreate him from his own flesh and blood. I found my Davie, but it was not a man: it was a woman. I learned that there was a female member of the Davie family living in New York City who greatly resembled her ancestor. I sought her out and found that she would be the ideal subject. She was the exact feminine counterpart of the early Davie, a most attractive woman and a brilliant writer. Not only her face, but her form had the grace and imperious quality I had associated with Davie. I asked Fmily Davie, for that is her name, to pose for me as her ancestor. Much to my disappointment she refused. In a poem entitled "A Family Affair.” which she wrote declining the honor, she gave me the following reason: As an artist of course you're aware I his descendant looks like her forebear. In his grave, however, he’d spin If a female for him should sit in. ( hanging the form of my request I persuaded her to let me paint her as herself to represent a relative of William R. Davie. She acquiesced, and she is the woman in the striped dress and tall plumed hat at the right in the painting, later on it was very easy to transpose her features into those of her ancestor as well. I still wonder a little about that windless day when the cascade of leaves came whirling down from the Davie Poplar. of corn he had raised in Hyde County, on his own boat and was making his way up the Neuse River to New Bern to sell on the market there. A rainy season had set in just as he was leaving, but he made it safely into the Ncusc River. Then he found that the whole country was flooded. The storm grew worse, finally he had to abandon his ship and its contents, and he climbed a tall pine tree. There he stayed for days. It was tough going, but he was so thankful to be safe, even if in such close quarters, that he saw and felt the beauty of nature. He said as the waters receded the spot on which Oriental now stands, was the most beautiful spot he ever saw. and before he was able to continue on his journey, while still in that tree he asked God to help him establish a town on this spot. Time went on. Uncle Lou Midget! returned to this spot, he bought acres and acres of land there. Then he went about getting other people interested in establishing the town. He planned the town, laid it off. then he ottered a lot or home site to those who would pledge to build their home here. Several people took him up on his offer. Finally there were enough people in Oriental that they felt the need for a post office. The people of the com¬ munity were turning over in their minds a possible name for their village so they could send it in to the Post Office Dept. This was a year quite different from the year Uncle Lou came first to this spot. It had been a very dry year, they had not been able to produce food enough to last the people of this com¬ munity through the winter ahead. There was no money, nor way to get food. One cold winter night a terrible storm was raging, a ship was passing. It was dark so that no one knew whose ship it was. It gave its distress signal and every man in the community an¬ swered that signal. When they reached the ship it was sinking, but they were able to save the cargo and men aboard. It was a ship loaded with raisins. It had come from the Orient. It bore the name "Oriental". Someone recalled this ex¬ perience and the inhabitants of this little village, with one accord named it "Oriental". Uncle Lou said had it not been for this shipwreck and its cargo. Oriental probably would have been wiped out that winter. — Mrs. Georgia P. Ca- hoon, Ncwland. THE STATE. О СТО В CR 28, 1961