2.24.2005

Vulcan and Giuseppi Moretti

Alabama is always looked upon as a backwater state - many times deservedly so. Between the hardline Christian conservatives, 10 Commandments monuments, racial and sexual bigotry, shyster politicians and the world's longest and most amendended consitution... well, there's a lot to be done around here. And I'm definitely going to try to write on these and other issues. But first, something positive.

Vulcan



Vulcan was commissioned in 1903 by the Birmingham Commercial Club, a forerunner to the Chamber of Commerce. James McKnight had been trying to come up with a way to promote Birmingham's steel works and Alabama's natural resources in general. The St. Louis World's Fair in 1904 was the perfect venue (back then World's Fairs were more like conventions rather than an excuse to build a Sun Sphere). He decided a giant statue would show off the quality of the resources in the state. Originally, McKnight proposed the work to state officials but was turned down. He then approached the Commercial Club and found a willing backer in Club President Fred Jackson.


Giuseppi Moretti was an Italian artist born in 1857. He spent most of his younger days travelling around Europe executing commissions, most notably a bust of Emperor Franz Josef. After a being denied access to Transylvanian marble by the German and Austrian empires, Moretti decided to emigrate to the US. He gained a commission from William K. Vanderbilt, grandson of the Commodore. In 1885, Moretti found his way to Pittsburgh, beginning a relationship with the city which would last the rest of his life. He spent the next twenty years in various projects throughout the city. In late 1903, McKnight and Jackson approached him with the offer of Vulcan.

The project was ambitious: sculpt and cast a 56 foot high free standing iron statue, transport it to St. Louis and do it all in less than 7 months. Moretti began work by making a plaster mold in a makeshift studio in New Jersey. Interestingly enough, the studio was an unfinished Catholic church. Moretti began shipping model sections to Birmingham in early 1904. Through the month of March, Moretti poured the iron for each section of the statue. In early April sections of the statue were shipped via rail to the exhibition site in St. Louis to be assembled. When the fair opened on April 30, the statue was only complete to the waist - the rest of the work was not assembled until May 8. To no one's surprise, the statue won the Grand Prize of the show.

Of course, it can't be an Alabama story without some embarrassment. After the fair's end, Vulcan was dismantled and shipped back to Birmingham. After fighting over where he should be permanently installed, Vulcan was finally erected on the State Fairgrounds. Unfortunately, his hands were put on incorrectly (left hand on right arm and vice versa). It got worse. In the 20s and 30s, Vulcan was farmed out to advertisers for pickles, soft drinks and ice cream. He even got painted on blue jeans at one point.

Through funding primarily from the WPA, Vulcan found his permanent home atop Red Mountain - the source of the iron making up the statue. There he's stood for nearly sixty years - one of the cool things about Birmingham that most don't know about.

The latest cool Moretti news is this:

When Henry Emfinger bought Farrington Hall 10 years ago to be part of his Aldrich Coal Mine Museum, he was not thinking about art.

Yet Emfinger recently discovered a rich vein of long-overlooked, historic art treasures in the 97-year-old building, formerly an extension of a mine owner's home. The hall features long-forgotten works by Giuseppe Moretti, the Italian artist who created Vulcan.


Apparently there are numerous murals as well as some cast iron work in the house. Emfinger is trying to raise money for cleaning and restoring this find.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I have a book - The Moretti Code - a parody of The Da Vinci Code set in Birmingham. Available at Little Professor or by e-mail at moretticode@birminghamart.org.

Anonymous said...

I grew up in Farrington Hall and I can tell you Mr. Emfinger's discovery wasn't recent. We've known about the paintings and murals for a long time. Unfortunately, my grandfather wasn't an appreciator of fine art or history and the house fell into severe disrepair.

I hope Mr. Emfinger is able to convince someone to help him save the house. It's going to take a LOT of money and time to do it properly.