The Washington times., 1922-01-29
African Br0nzeS to
Form Rare Exhibit
AT the New Museum
Collection Being In
stalled by Mrs.
Herbert Ward,

doctors. elephants. m every
thing. Is being transplanted to the
prosaic halls OF the new National
Museum building.
A corner of the exhibition hall on
the second floor has been parti-
toned off to hold the famous Ward
collection Of bronzes. trophies Of the
hunt. and a miscellaneous assert
ment Of knives. spears, and war
drums reeking with the mystery
and gloom of Africa. The collec-
ton was bequeathed to the museum
by the late Herbert Ward, the we'll
known English sculptor and natu-
ralist.
The bronzes ara his own work.
From a rich store Of memories and
drawings of dozen years spent In
the heart of that land of unfathom-
able mystery he nodded his crea-
lures OF bronze. They show the
native African in his varying moods
OF happiness and despair. The
witch doctor, with his sacred fetish
and awe-inspiring array OF charms,
was the first of the figures to come
to life under the masters fingers.
The last bit OF work, Despair"
shows the development of the
sculptor's art, in the ten years that
elapsed between the witch doctor
and the final figure.
1t is a native. naked but for a
few strings OF beads, with his head
bowed In his arms. rigid with the
grief Of a half million or more saw
age people. A negro dancer in one
Of the music halls Of Paris. where
Mr.. Ward had his studio, posed for
the final figure. Models for the
others were selected from stray
negroes happening across the sculp-
tors path. In each case, however.
the face was modelled from draw
ings made when Mr.. Ward was in
Africa, his models native men and
women in their natural surround
ings.
MR.. WARD knew Africa. He
understood. as well as a white
man can. the heart Of the native.
He had eaten of their bread, slept
in their smoky huts, and played
with their naked babies under the
jungle shade while the green
monkeys screeched from the tops
Of ancient trees and the bull ele-
plant trumpeted his call across the
jungle paths. He had hunted that
same elephant, king of the jungle,
with their bravest hunters. On his
studio walls hung trophies of those
midnight prowls through the tan.
gled underbrush Of a tropical forest.
His studio windows were dimmed to
resemble the murky blackness of a
jungle day, where only stray bits
Of sunlight find their way through
the heavy foliage.
His bronzes speak of that inmost
understanding OF the savage heart
and mind. In the faces of Les
Bantus," Bantu boy and girl. Is
written the wistful questioning that
fills the savage heart before mys.
teries they cannot understand.
Hearts frightened by weird little
wooden figures, powerless to hurt
them except through their supersti.
tious fears, and brave in the face
OF the dangers that Turk in every
jungle corner.
IRoPH1ES OF Mr.. Wards African
hunting trips are also included
In the collection. The gigantic head
Of his first bull elephant, the story
OF whose death is told in his book.
The Call Of the Congo" has been
raised to a place of honor on the
museum walls. Cases have been in.
stalled to hold his priceless collec-
tion OF knives and spears, many of
them stained with the blood of nc.
tual victims of some native hattie
A half-dozen war drums, the deem
boom OF whose notes once actually
resounded through the jungle, call.
ing together the hunters and war.
riors, are among the chief treas.
ures. A dozen or so idols, weird fig.
ures Of wood or stone. and a miscel.
laneous assortment of household
goods once actually in use complete
the collection.
The museum corner devoted to
the Ward collection is to be ar.
ranged SO that in some way It will
suggest the jungle atmosphere, The
windows are to be dimmed TO half.
darkness and the walls tinted to re.
semble the misty gray green OF the
| jungle.
MRS. WARD, herself an Ameri.
can, is in Washington to super.
intend the arrangement of the col.
lection. She hopes to reflect the at.