hich is of course attractive enough, but is not
in itself a formal mode of expression. The redman would teach us to be
ourselves in a still greater degree, as his forefathers have taught
him to be himself down the centuries, despite every obstacle. It is
now as the last obstacle in the way of his racial expression that we
as his host and guardian are pleasing ourselves to figure. It is as
inhospitable host we are quietly urging denunciation of his pagan
ceremonials. It is an inhospitable host that we are, and it is amazing
enough, our wanting to suppress him. You will travel over many
continents to find a more beautifully synthesized artistry than our
redman offers. In times of peace we go about the world seeking out
every species of life foreign to ourselves for our own esthetic or
intellectual diversion, and yet we neglect on our very doorstep the
perhaps most remarkable realization of beauty that can be found
anywhere. It is of a perfect piece with the great artistry of all
time. We have to go for what we know of these types of expression to
books and to fragments of stone, to monuments and to the preserved
bits of pottery we now may see under glass mostly, while there is the
living remnant of a culture so fine in its appreciation of the beauty
of things, under our own home eye, so near that we can not even see
it.

A glimpse of the buffalo dance alone will furnish proof sufficient to
you of the sense of symbolic significances in the redman that is
unsurpassed. The redman is a genius in his gift of masquerade alone.
He is a genius in detail, and in ensemble, and the producer of today
might learn far more from him than he can be aware of except by
visiting his unique performances. The redman's notion of the theatric
does not depend upon artificial appliances. He relies entirely upon
the sun with its so clear light of the west and southwest to do his
profiling and silhouetting for him, and he knows the sun will
cooperate with every one of his intentions. He allows for the sense of
mass and of detail with proper proportion, allows also for the
interval of escape in mood, crediting the value of the pause with the
ability to do its prescribed work for the eye and ear perfectly, and
when he is finished he retires from the scene carefully to the beating
of the drums, leaving the emotion to round itself out gradually until
he disappears, and silence completes the picture for the eye and the
brain. His staging is of the simp