Having dealt with the practical side of human life, the show moves on to more spiritual levels. No firecrackers or towers of silence. There are, pellmell, loneliness, sympathy, hope, and faith. The photographs representing loneliness are exceptionally good. One by Louis Clyde Stoumen of a little Negro girl moping on a beach which has the long-drawn perspective of nightmare is really haunting.
Faith is an assortment of dignified religious ceremonies.
There is no hint of fanaticism or disagreement. In the needless apprehension that some spectators may still be unaware of the point of the exhibition, Mr. Steichen now indulges in a bit of practical theater. Any unwary spectator will find himself right in the picture gallery. If that doesn't make him hear the rattle of bones and the chuckle spread from ear to ear, he's just a mean old individualist. Still groggy with the shock of self-recognition, the spectator is hustled before a large color photograph of a hydrogen bomb explosion located, quite properly for a ritual mystery, in a small dark alcove.