Long before the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition (AYPE) opened in 1909 promoters were making grandiose claims about how good the landscape of this world’s fair would be. They used superlatives, promising gardens and grounds that would dazzle and impress. Charles Dana Gibson, the illustrator who created the iconic image of the Gibson Girl, was typical. He visited Seattle in late 1908 and wrote of the AYPE: "It will unquestionably be the most beautiful exposition ever held in the world...."
Earlier fairs had set a standard that would be hard to match, let alone surpass. The Chicago World’s Columbian Exposition in 1893, for example, ushered in the City Beautiful movement. Closer at hand, Portland’s Lewis and Clark Centennial Exposition in 1905 had capitalized on the natural beauties of the Pacific Northwest, incorporating views of Mount St. Helens and the Willamette River. It would take inspired design and the best plants horticulture had to offer to improve on other world’s fairs.
When the AYPE opened on June 1, 1909, the grounds were unquestionably a horticultural wonderland, but was Seattle’s first world’s fair really the most beautiful exposition to date? To answer that question, it helps to know a little about horticulture at the turn of the 20th century. In big cities such as Chicago and San Francisco, parks and public gardens often had opulent summer flower displays. These seasonal plantings arranged flowers in ranks by size and color, often in large, geometrically-shaped beds carved from lawns. Such floral extravaganzas were a product of their time. Greenhouses were inexpensive to operate, and garden labor was cheap. In illustrated catalogs national seed companies offered a multitude of flowers, including new and improved
varieties. They could send orders almost anywhere via the railroad. Some municipal parks in the Pacific Northwest put on seasonal flower displays. In Seattle, Kinnear Park on Queen Anne Hill and Leschi Park on Lake Washington had ornamental trees, shrubberies, rustic benches, pavilions, and other amenities. In summer they also had beds that were literally knee-deep in flowers.
Clearly, if the AYPE was to live up to the claim that it would be the "world’s most beautiful exposition," fair planners were going to have to come up with something exceptional. And so they did. They hired the Olmsted Brothers firm to design the grounds. Arguably the nation’s best landscape architects, the Olmsted firm began with Frederick Law Olmsted’s acclaimed 1858 plan for New York’s Central Park. Olmsted was soon in demand, designing parks, estates, campuses, and other landscapes across the country. His son, Frederick Law Olmsted Jr., and his stepson/nephew, John Charles Olmsted, came up in the firm and formed Olmsted Brothers when their father retired.
By 1907 the Olmsted Brothers had already done work in the Northwest. In 1903 they prepared a comprehensive plan for Seattle’s park system. That same year, Portland hired the Olmsteds to design their parks. Five years later Walla Walla commissioned the Olmsteds to plan Pioneer Park. In between they designed the grounds for Portland’s 1905 Lewis and Clark Exposition.
The Olmsteds had a particular gift for finding the best features in a parcel of land and then making the most of them. Their design for the AYPE was no exception. It arranged the fair on a formal axis, named Mount Rainier Vista in their 1906 plan. The U.S. Government Building stood at the north end of the axis. Below it on a gentle slope a broad watercourse called the Cascades sent water tumbling down broad steps south to Geyser Basin (now Drumheller Fountain on the University of Washington campus). From there the vista trailed away to distant Mount Rainier. At Geyser Basin secondary axes radiated out like spokes. One went east to Lake Washington; the other, Lake Union Vista, headed west. Some of the fair’s largest pavilions stood on this grand axis, complemented with beautiful gardens and floral displays. Away from Rainier Vista the grounds had dozens of additional buildings. It also had many landscape features-acres of flowers, a picturesque woodland, lush shrubberies, small agricultural displays, giant floral urns, boxed trees, and other horticultural designs beautified the grounds.
As they considered the fairgrounds, AYPE planners weighed many landscape options. The site offered unprecedented opportunity. Although much of Seattle had already been logged, the university tract still contained timber. Although no world’s fair had ever been set in a woodland, planners embraced the idea and declared that every tree that could be spared would be spared. Still, saving trees would not be easy. Construction damage was one concern; aesthetics was another. Nobody had ever seen fair pavilions paired with wild trees. The success of the plan would depend on the landscape architects. The Olmsteds proved more than capable.
On the southeast side of the fair the Olmsteds set aside about 100 acres of existing forest next to Lake Washington. They called it "The Park," a name that conveyed the goal of "Nature perfected." To prepare this area, workers cleared tangled brush, removed stumps, and filled low spots. Then they added assorted ferns, wildflowers, and select exotics such as Japanese iris. The result was a woodland that was a little rugged and wild, and thus picturesque. Broad walks threaded through the trees, opening in places to scenic views. Rustic benches encouraged fairgoers to pause and take in the forest. The Post-Intelligencer called this area "The Woods" and praised it, saying that it gave "the impression of being a perfectly primeval forest." It was a view never before seen at a world’s fair.
In the heart of the exposition the Olmsteds used native plants in innovative ways. The Michigan Building, for example, nestled in a stand of young conifers. In 1909 the region’s trees already had a well-established reputation in Europe. Introduced there by the early 1800s, Northwest conifers such as Douglas fir quickly became coveted landscape plants. Northwest gardeners saw them differently. They rarely used natives in landscapes. In fact, the region’s gardeners did not accept them as first-rate ornamentals until the mid 20th century or later.
More native plants appear in the landscape design for the Washington Building. Prepared by landscape architect and Olmsted associate partner James Dawson, the plan used a new design concept. It set shrub beds filled with native rhododendrons and traditional flowering shrubs right next to the building. Dawson explained that these plantings were meant "to soften the hard architectural lines of the buildings as they merged into the ground." Gardeners today would call them foundation plantings, but design was different in 1909. Foundation plantings were then largely unknown and did not become popular until the mid 1910s to mid 1920s. In 1909 gardeners typically set shrubs and the like at a distance from the foundation. Dawson placed another informal border there, using it as a transition between the pavilion landscaping and the remainder of the grounds. Dawson’s design called for about 4,600 plants. More than half were trees and shrubs that gave the plantings structure and provided a backdrop for the floral display. The others were summer flowers, including sweet peas, cactus dahlias, phlox, Shasta daisies, foxgloves, and red and pink roses.
A short walk west from the Washington Building the landscape changed yet again. At the Court of Honor, adjacent to the Cascades, the design paired the buildings’ elaborate architecture with a formal landscape built on symmetry and straight lines. Square panels of lawn marched down the slope next to the Cascades. On these lawns a row of young horse chestnuts (Aesculus hippocastanum) stood two by two in rectangular planting beds. Bay trees (Laurus nobilis) clipped into perfect domes stood in containers that lined the walks like sentries. The buildings rose above all these lines and angles. Behind them native conifers stood silhouetted against the sky. The combination was no accident. The designers liked the juxtaposition of classic architecture and rugged nature, saying "domes and pinnacles and towers...would harmonize with the multiplicity of the spire-like fir trees."
In addition to handsome trees and billowing shrub borders, the Olmsted plan called for lavish flower displays. Although the grounds probably had some small vignettes, displays using thousands of plants were the rule. For example, 12,000 salmon-colored geraniums bloomed at the fair’s main entrance and 30,000 bright white ‘Alaska’ daisies filled a dip in the grade at Alaska Avenue. Hundreds of cactus dahlias flowered along Lake Union and Lake Washington vistas, and on the Pay Streak, 20,000 "brilliantly colored" geraniums (as Dawson described them) bloomed all summer. Still more flowers-this time massed ‘Dorothy Perkins’ roses-covered the sloping banks at the Cascades with pink blooms. There were so many flowers that the AYPE became known for them. Alice Stone Blackwell was quoted in the History of Woman Suffrage- as reporting that delegates to the National Suffrage Convention held at the fair in early July "agreed that the display of flowers on the grounds were more beautiful than they had seen at any previous Exposition. Some of the delegates from the Atlantic coast said it was worth coming across the continent just to see this flower garden."
These exhibits were merely a prelude to the fair’s largest floral garden, which lay south of Geyser Basin on Rainier Vista. Here, Dawson divided the ground into parterres-geometric planting beds outlined in low, clipped hedges and separated by walks. In these beds Dawson orchestrated a magnificent floral composition that bloomed for the entire run of the AYPE. His design used more than 50,000 plants in bold color blocks: whites and pastels in the center; mid-range pinks, yellows, and oranges in the middle; dark colors at the perimeter. All told, the design featured more than five dozen different flowers. Many were perennials, including basket of gold, daylilies, delphiniums, phlox, and poppies. Others were familiar annuals, such as petunias, snapdragons, stocks, and sweet peas. Many, especially the heliotrope and lilies, were fragrant. It was probably the biggest flower display Seattle had ever had.
As extravagant as the flowers may have seemed, they were actually practical. John C. Olmsted decided to use flowers early in the design process. Writing to his wife in April 1907, he remarked that he wanted to employ perennials "because they bloom, many of them, much later than shrubs." Woody plants raised other problems, too. Full-sized plants were too expensive. The gardeners could start with young plants, but growing them to size took more time than they had been given. In comparison, flowers were easy and quick. Besides, they were perfect for a fair that would only last a season. They were labor intensive but doable.
Once the decision to use flowers was finalized, Dawson had to find tens of thousands of flowers. The garden crew grew many of them. By 1907 the AYPE had a 20-acre nursery on the southern part of the grounds. About half of it was a turf farm, which produced crop after crop of sod for the exposition. The other half included a 100-foot-long greenhouse and cold frames for propagation and overwintering tender perennials. The rest of the nursery was used for growing young plants and as a holding area for specimens waiting to be planted around the grounds.
Even the thousands of plants this nursery could produce would not be enough. Dawson turned to other sources. Seattle’s park department lent plants and rented the AYPE growing space in the production greenhouse at Woodland Park. Local nurseries also provided plants. J. J. Bonnell, a prominent Seattle nurseryman, lent and rented the AYPE plants that were installed at the Idaho, Japanese, Manufactures, and Washington State buildings. Another local supplier was dahlia specialist Charles W. Bovee.
Seattle gardeners pitched in as well. In 1908 Dawson was planning a significant geranium exhibit "several hundred feet" long at the main entrance, and he wanted another 20,000 geraniums for the Pay Streak. The AYPE greenhouse crew could grow geraniums but needed starts. To get them, the exposition hosted an event called Geranium Day in November 1908. The price of admission that day was a geranium. Big or small, healthy or not, a cutting or a whole plant-the gatekeepers took them all. In return, visitors could tour the grounds and see how work was coming along. On Geranium Day, 1,500 people showed up, each with the required geranium. By the time the AYPE opened, exposition gardeners had propagated thousands of geraniums from the donated plants.
Although Dawson made the most of local sources, he was still short on plants. After all, Seattle was a small city in 1909 and local nurseries couldn’t possibly provide enough plants. Neither could other growers around the Pacific Northwest, so Dawson broadened his search. He contacted some of the world’s best growers at nurseries across the United States and in Europe. For example, Dawson needed thousands of cactus dahlias, the exposition’s official flower. To obtain tubers he invited nurseries to participate in a cactus dahlia contest at the exposition. He asked each exhibitor to send five each of ten different varieties.
Thirteen growers agreed to participate. American dahlia specialists in Boston, Chicago, Denver, Philadelphia, and elsewhere entered the competition. So did growers in England and France. Though their names are unfamiliar now, they were the heavy-hitters of the dahlia world. W. W. Wilmore took first prize at Chicago’s World’s Columbian Exposition. The famous French dahlia nursery of Rivoir, Pere & Fils had introduced
a whole new class of dahlias called collarettes at the 1900 Exposition Universelle in Paris. Others, including Americans Henry A. Dreer and W. W. Rawson and England’s J. Strewick & Son and I. T. West, owned nurseries that carried dozens of cactus dahlias, including some of their own introductions. When the AYPE opened hundreds of cactus dahlias from these commercial growers grew in beds lining Lake Union and Lake Washington vistas. Thousands more grew in other plantings.
Dawson called on equally prestigious growers for other types of plants. He turned to Arthur Cowee of New York for gladioluses. At the time, Cowee was one of the three largest gladiolus growers in the country. He sent 5,700 gladiolus bulbs to the AYPE, an assortment of 22 varieties. Five of them were Cowee introductions, and one of those-‘Victory’-was new in 1909. The exposition’s 800 peonies came from the nationally-known Brand Peony Farm in Minnesota. Like Cowee, Brand supplied dozens of varieties, including introductions released in 1909. Dawson had to be pleased. AYPE visitors would see the best and brightest horticulture had to offer, including some plants even the most avid gardeners had never glimpsed before. He used the glads and the peonies at Geyser Basin and elsewhere on the grounds.
The AYPE’s flower exhibits would not have been complete without roses. In the formal gardens near Geyser Basin, Dawson planted some 5,000 roses. He used just ten varieties in the design-all adapted for the climate. ‘Crimson Rambler,’ for example, grew at the Women’s Building, the Washington Building, and perhaps elsewhere on the grounds. Its color was magnificent and it bloomed in clusters so large that some claimed they were the size of hydrangeas. Another AYPE rose-‘Mme. Caroline Testout’-was a satiny, medium pink hybrid tea introduced in 1890. It quickly became such a floral celebrity that it was named the official rose of the Portland Rose Festival. The hybrid teas, first introduced in 1872, established a whole new look for roses. They were long-stemmed beauties with elegant, pointed buds that opened to fully double flowers.
Like its roses, the fair’s bedding plants included a horticultural wonder-the tufted pansy. Tufted pansies are rare today, but in 1909 they were floral superstars. Scottish physician and part-time plantsman Charles Stuart worked for 20 years to improve garden pansies. In the 1890s he introduced tufted pansies. Compared to the older varieties that sprawled, grew spindly, and quit flowering in summer, tufted pansies really were a big improvement. They bloomed all summer and had a tidy, compact habit. They were also perennial and lasted year after year. The flowers, though small, came in many colors, including shades of blue, violet, white, and yellow. Tufted pansies were so good they won British horticultural awards. Stuart continued to work on tufted pansies, introducing new cultivars with improved colors.
For the AYPE, Dawson planted some 200,000 tufted pansies in a broad band encircling Geyser Basin, having ordered custom-grown seed from Great Britain at a princely six dollars an ounce. The display was color-coordinated in yellow, white, and blue. At the end of the fair Dawson, who had seen a great many floral displays in his career and was not a man to boast, described the pansy planting as "probably one of the grandest displays of flowers that has ever been witnessed." Fairgoers were likely to agree. Dawson had delivered a horticultural wonder-pansies blooming in high summer.
As glorious as the tufted pansies undoubtedly were, the AYPE selected a different plant-the cactus dahlia-as the exposition’s official flower. Immensely popular in the mid 1800s, dahlia popularity fizzled by 1900. Gardeners had, in their seemingly endless quest for a better plant, moved on. Dahlias were never orphans, but they became, regrettably, old-fashioned. They might have remained so had a plant hunter not found an entirely new kind of dahlia-one with quilled petals-in Guatemala. He sent this plant, named Dahlia juarezii, to Europe around 1872. It crossed easily with others, but perfecting it took time. Many early cactus dahlias looked too much like the older dahlias. The edges of the petals rolled back, but only a smidgen. Even so, they were extraordinarily popular. James Vicks, a leading American seedsman of national stature, featured them prominently in his 1898 catalog with a full-page color illustration. Under the banner "Cactus Dahlias" the illustration showed gorgeous flowers with edges that rolled back but were not quills. By 1903 horticulture had a new standard for cactus dahlias. On the best of them the petals rolled into spiky quills. Gardeners could choose among at least 400 different varieties. By 1909 there were even more-perhaps as many as 1,000.
The exposition boasted some 12,000 cactus dahlias massed in large displays or blooming in mixed borders. Next door, the University of Washington campus planted "thousands of cactus dahlias" in beds at the main entrance and near the dormitories. Still more grew in gardens all over Seattle. Newspapers told their readers that "every resident should plant the cactus dahlia in his yard this coming spring, and help to make the general display beautiful and impressive." They especially urged homeowners along the streetcar lines to plant banks of cactus dahlias.
Although postcards of the official flower show a crimson blossom, cactus dahlias actually came in white, pink, red, yellow, orange, lavender, and purple, and in shades from soft pastels to vibrant brights and rich jewel tones. A few varieties were two-tones with contrasting tips or shading. In fact, cactus dahlias came in nearly every color except green, blue, and black. Nobody had seen all of them. Many people had never seen the newest varieties. Blooming in large displays with hundreds of flowers at the AYPE, the cactus dahlias were impressive. The Dahlia News, published by the New England Dahlia Society in Boston, said that making the cactus dahlia the official flower of the AYPE was "the greatest impetus towards popularity any flower has ever received."
In addition to the grand vistas, generous flower displays, and fine shrubbery, the AYPE featured agricultural plants in outdoor living displays. The Hawaii Building, for example, had a small pineapple plantation. Visitors to the California Building could see some of the agricultural wonders of the Golden State-orange trees, a date palm, and a few tropicals. Judging by photos, none of these found Seattle’s cool summers to their liking. At the Utah Building sharp-eyed visitors could see cactus growing outdoors. At the King County Building strawberries and dwarf fruit trees showed the agricultural potential of the region. None of these exhibits was more exotic than the display at the Japanese Pavilion, where gardeners tended a small rice paddy.
When the fair closed in October reviewers reflected on the exposition. Promoters had promised that the AYPE would be the most beautiful exposition ever held. Had it lived up to that claim? The fair had accomplished many horticultural feats. The Olmsted design, which arranged the fair on a long axis with the Court of Honor, Geyser Basin, and Rainier Vista, was a shining example of landscape design. Today, Rainier Vista survives. It is the campus feature most associated with the AYPE. Like the design, the plantings were exceptional. The Olmsted plan called for 2 million plants and used them to spectacular effect. The formal gardens below Geyser Basin were probably the largest flower exhibit Seattle had ever seen. The plants themselves were equally memorable. From the latest roses to tufted pansies and cactus dahlias, the exposition included the horticulture’s offerings. The existing forest itself, saved for its inherent beauty and used as a counterpoint to the architecture, showed the world the beauty of Washington’s native flora.
In the summer of 1909 the AYPE grounds achieved that elusive collaboration of inspired design and gorgeous plants. Various reviewers of the time weighed in, the general consensus being, as one commentator stated, "The Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition is an inspiring sight.... The claim made at its inception, that it would go down in history as the world’s most beautiful pageant, has been made good." The AYPE delivered on its promise.
A botanist by training, Kathy Mendelson has worked in public gardens and taught plant science at the community college level. Her special interest is garden history, particularly that of the Pacific Northwest.