Monday, Oct. 02, 1944

Big Fifty

Curmudgeon Ickes didn't like the idea at all. Henry the Morgue was afraid the statuette of himself might be sold over the counter for 50-c-, along with little images of Buffalo Bill and George Washington. President Roosevelt took one look at the result and cried: "Wait a minute. I don't wear a waistcoat." Through it all, diminutive, agile, 53-year-old Sculptor Max Kalish preserved speed and competence. He was engaged in one of the most spectacular one-man sculpture marathons ever undertaken: the modeling of some 50 statues of U.S. war leaders in sittings of one hour per subject. Last week the exhausting work was nearly finished. Max Kalish had lost 10 lbs. in the process.

The project--The Living Hall of Washington--was sponsored by Willard Monroe Kiplinger, publisher of the businessmen's weekly tip sheet, the Kiplinger Washington Letter. The statues are one-third life size, cast in bronze. They have been given to Washington's venerable Smithsonian Institution for permanent public exhibition. Some other sitters: Henry Wallace, Harlan F. Stone, George Marshall, Harry Hopkins, Francis Biddle, Cordell Hull, Henry L. Stimson, Walter Lippmann, John L. Lewis, Donald Nelson. Says Sponsor Kiplinger: "The purpose is primarily historical . . . history is made by men. What did the men look like? How did they stand? What shape of heads? This collection will give to history a personal piquancy."

Vice President's Vest. Kalish and Kiplinger had problems galore. General "Hap" Arnold was approached on the eve of the invasion of France, barely found time to fling a polite refusal. Henry Wallace had vest trouble--his shirt showed above his trouser line. Once that was adjusted, the Vice President struck a satisfactory, thumb-in-belt attitude. John L. Lewis loomed rather than posed, as though facing a hostile audience.

Under Secretary of War Robert Patterson's trousers presented another difficulty. His trousers are seldom pressed. At first Kalish put creases in them. Then, in the interests of documentary accuracy, he rubbed the creases out. Kalish had two half-hour periods with President Roosevelt in the White House Oval Room. In fine fettle, the President chatted a great deal. Did Mr. Kalish want the long ivory cigaret holder? Mr. Kalish did. But, in the end, having said, "Thank you, Mr. President," Kalish went out with a clay Franklin Roosevelt without a head. The Presidential head was modeled in Manhattan at Kalish's studio.

Last week the weary sculptor shuttled to Washington on one of his last missions for the Living Hall. With the aid of sleeping pills, he was regaining his composure. In his car were 18 two-foot bronze statues, ready for delivery to the Smithsonian. The heat of Washington during the summer months had all but melted him down. "But," said he, "I would have gone into my studio and worked in the nude if necessary, in the joy of doing the thing for posterity."

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