Nation: Festival of the Arts

From museums in 40 states came 39 paintings and 26 sculptures, and from the elite in the worlds of art, literature, photography, dance, music and drama came some 400 guests—a collection of art works and talent that could not begin to be measured in monetary terms. Lady Bird Johnson opened the affair with a gracious little speech: "A festival is a time for feasting, and there is a rich feast indeed before us today. The arts will be presented in many forms, all of which are warmly welcome in this house."

Bronze Nude & Car Bumpers. The house, of course, was the White House, and the occasion was that extraordinary Festival of the Arts. Hung on the walls of a ground-floor White House corridor was Peter Kurd's carefully representational Nito Herrera in Springtime, and right next to that was Avant-Garde Artist Jasper Johns's Target with Four Faces, an eerie encaustic on newspaper fixed onto canvas. Down the corridor, in the space traditionally occupied by a life-size portrait of President Millard Fillmore, was Mark Rothko's shimmering abstract Ochre and Red on Red.

Outside, amid the purple petunias in the new Jacqueline Kennedy Garden was sculpture, including Oronzio Maldarelli's simple bronze nude, Branca II; down on the south lawn was Jason Seley's Masculine Presence, constructed from motorcar bumpers.

During the 13 hours of the festival, Robert Jeffrey's lithe young dancers performed on the premises, and Mr. Edward K. Ellington (as Duke's invitation read) led his 15-piece band. Catherine Drinker Bowen read a passage from Yankee from Olympus, her memorable biography of Mr. Justice Holmes. It had to do with the thrills felt by Holmes's wife Fanny upon her arrival in Washington and her first dinner at the White House, where she was enthusiastically greeted by President Theodore Roosevelt. Mrs. Bowen had had some qualms about picking that particular passage: it might, she thought, be rather sentimental, while other festival readers would likely select passages of much more "social significance." But having thought it all over, Mrs. Bowen decided, "What the hell," and recited her own favorite.

Troublesome Poets. With the help of Mrs. Bowen and many others, the festival was a smashing success—up to a point. Trouble was, throughout the day the artists kept getting themselves sidetracked from art and into the issue of U.S. foreign policy, particularly as it pertains to Viet Nam.

Weighing heavily upon everyone's mind was the fact that Poet Robert Lowell had refused an invitation because, he explained, his attendance might be mistaken for personal approval of President Johnson's Viet Nam policies.