Poetic Likeness: Modern American Poets

Where: National Portrait Gallery

When: through April 28, 2013

You get both poetry and portraits at this show, featuring poets from Walt Whitman to the 1970s.  Some people get multiple pictures (presumably those the curators thought were more important); most get one.  All are from the Gallery's permanent collection.  Each portrait also features a sample of the poet's work and a short biography.  It functions as a type of introduction to modern poetry, something of which I stand in sore need.  Although I studied poetry in high school, I confess I've not kept up since then, so I'm a bit behind!

In the 20th century, American poetry came into its own, no longer a derivative of English poetry.  The foundation comes from works by Walt Whitman (think of "Leaves of Grass," and "Song of Myself," which I do remember from 10th grade) and Ezra Pound.  In fact, I even remembered the quote they use from "Song of Myself," which I had to memorize for English class.

Ezra Pound, one of those who gets a larger display, is commemorated with a bronze bust.  It's interesting in that it has lots of slits in it - as if to symbolize the breaks in his mental state; quite effective, I thought.  The commentary on Gertrude Stein, "her writing is a thing that needs verbs," made me smile.  I went to see a big exhibit on her life (was it here at the Portrait Gallery? - I think so) a year or so ago.  There was also a photograph of Allen Ginsberg that I remember seeing in the National Gallery of Art show a while back.  There's something very satisfying in seeing things again and recognizing them; it makes me feel as if I'm part of the "in crowd."  The idea of there being an "in crowd" who go to museum exhibits is a bit ridiculous, I do realize.

Verdict: If you like modern poetry, don't miss this retrospective on a century's worth of practitioners.  For me, I think I would have appreciated it more if I were better versed <groan> in the genre.

Portraits of President Barack Obama

Where: National Portrait Gallery

When: through February 25, 2013

Timed to coincide with the inauguration, the Portrait Gallery is showing this set of two portraits of Barack Obama, one serious and one smiling.

There's something about larger than life photos that are a bit disturbing to me, but these are very good.  They capture the friendly, approachable side of the President that I think is, in part, responsible for his appeal, along with the serious, it's time to get down to work and act like adults side, that must frequently experience frustration with the political nonsense of Washington.  The artist, Chuck Close, is famous for his large scale heads, and these are certainly large scale!

I was struck by how many people were looking at the portraits - more than I usually see in this museum.  I can only imagine they were tourists in town for the inauguration, who wisely decided to add a day of sightseeing to their trip.  I was happy to see them enjoying themselves at the Smithsonian, posing for photos with the portraits, the way I used to see tourists with those cardboard cutouts of famous politicians by the White House, when I worked in that neighborhood.

Verdict: Easy to add this on to a trip to either the Portrait Gallery or the American Art Museum, and the timing couldn't be better.

The Peacock Room with the Shutters Open

Where: Freer Gallery of Art

When: Third Thursday of each month

One day each month, the curators at the Freer open the shutters in the Peacock Room, and last Thursday, I went to have a look.  Sadly, the day was overcast, so I probably didn't get the best possible view, but it was nice to have a bit more light in the room.

The Freer usually decorates the room with a selection of blue and white china, but at present, they've switched out that collection for a sampling of Charles Lang Freer's pottery.  He collected from a wide variety of sources, so you get a little bit of everything.  If you like pottery, this is a must-see, regardless of whether the shutters are open or closed.  Apparently, the blue and white porcelain will return in the spring, so your opportunity to see the room as Freer lived in it is limited.

The fabulous peacock painting on the far wall is actually James McNeil Whistler's revenge against the room's original owner, who refused to pay him what he (Whistler) though he was owed for his work redecorating the room.  The peacock on the right, who looks very haughty and full of himself, is meant to represent Frederick Leyland, the London shipping magnate, who hired Whistler to redo Thomas Jeckyll's original design.  The peacock on the left is Whistler himself, bullied and cowed by Leyland.  It's a wonderful painting, regardless of the history, but knowing the story does add a bit to the picture.

Docents are available to answer questions while the shutters are open, which is how I found out about the painting's hidden (or not so hidden) meaning.  A knowledgeable guide really adds to my appreciation of a museum I find, and that feeling was reinforced on this visit.  I'd like to be able to take guided tours of the Smithsonian museums - having to work full-time really does cramp my style in this way!

Verdict: Take the time to see this fantastic room in a new light; the next date the shutters will be open is February 21, 2013.

A Century Ago They Came as Sovereign Leaders

Where: National Museum of the American Indian

When: through February 25, 2013

There's something terribly sad about this exhibit.  It's concerned with  the participation of six Native American chiefs in Theodore Roosevelt's 1905 inaugural parade.   The chiefs came with the intention of bringing the hopes and grievances of their people to the attention of the United States government, in order to negotiate government to government, but those planning the parade asked them to participate only in order to add a "picturesque touch of color" to the proceedings.  A Washington Post reporter described them as "like Remington's pictures, only endowed with life and motion."  The concerns and problems of Native Americans were of little interest to Washington's elite.

Theodore Roosevelt had a complicated relationship with Native Americans.  Although there were many individual Native people with whom he was friendly, he felt that the persistence in a tribal identity was futile.  Tribes should become integrated with mainstream American society.  Of course, not everyone is interested in giving up their entire way of life to fit in better with those they blame (with good reason) for making that way of life untenable.

Each of the six chiefs had a particular reason for traveling to Washington, and this exhibit highlights each one.  Geronimo (the only one of the chiefs I'd heard of before) came to advocate for the release of his people, the Chiricahua Apache from captivity following numerous battles with the U.S. Army.  His people were finally released from Fort Sill, in Oklahoma, in 1912, three years after Geronimo's death.

Verdict: This small show is very interesting, and sheds light on a part of American history that I, for one, knew little about.

When Time and Duty Permit: Collecting During World War II

Where: Natural History Museum

When: through April 28, 2013

This exhibit is in the other large display case that's been moved from the vestibule.  It focuses on the work that scientists who were serving in the military during WWII and even regular soldiers did in the area of conservation.

The Smithsonian was able to advise the military about the geographic cultures and natural world of the Pacific region when the U.S. entered the war against Japan.  Curators at the Smithsonian encouraged soldiers to explore the natural world and send back specimens when they were able to do so.  Many servicemen found it a welcome break from the stresses of combat and were happy to assist the museum in its quest for items to add to its collection.

Smithsonian scientists themselves served in the military, and they also sent back specimens.  As a result, the Smithsonian developed a tremendous collection.  It became, and remains, a powerhouse in the field of Pacific studies.  One of the scientists specifically mentioned in the exhibit is S. Dillon Ripley, the Secretary of the Smithsonian from 1964-1984, and for whom the Ripley Center is named.  It was interesting to learn a bit more about Ripley, since I've been to shows in the building named for him many times.

Verdict: Well worth a few minutes of your time.  Like the rhino exhibit, it's easy to add this on to a trip to the museum to see a larger show.

Fascinating -- Endangered RHINO

Where: Natural History Museum

When: through April 28, 2013

I feared I'd have another long search on my hands when I went to see this exhibit.  The display cases on the ground floor, by the Constitution Avenue entrance (where the website told me this exhibit would be housed), used to be located right in the vestibule, just beyond the guard stations.  When I headed over to look at the items there, I found the cases were gone.  I headed out into the main area of the ground floor, and found they'd been re-positioned in the hallway by the gift shop.  This is probably a better place for them; they'll get more foot traffic here, as they were off to the side in the vestibule and not so noticeable.

One of the large cases contained this little exhibit on the rhinoceros.  There are five different types of rhinos in Africa and Asia and sadly, all of them are endangered.  Indiscriminate killing in the 19th and 20th centuries led to a terrible decline in the animal's population, but preservation efforts have led to a slight rebound in populations recently.  Poaching and loss of habitat are still very serious threats to the species' survival.   In fact, the rhinoceros is one of the most endangered species on earth.  The Smithsonian Libraries support and enhance wildlife conservation biology, and this display shows several of the books in their collection on the rhinoceros.  The materials in the case are a nice reminder that there's a lot more to the Smithsonian then just the museums.

Verdict: A nice add-on to a trip to the Natural History Museum - you can see everything in the case in about 10 minutes.

Not Lost in Translation: The Life of Clotilde Arias

Where: American History Museum

When: through April 28, 2013

Yet another entertaining and informative trip to the Small Documents Gallery!  This exhibit focuses on the life of Clotilde Arias, who (among many other things) wrote an official Spanish language translation of the Star Spangled Banner.  The Museum had put her translation on display a couple of years ago, and I was eager to learn more about the person who had written it.

The first thing I noticed was that the museum informed visitors that the Star Spangled Banner was on display - probably not necessary, but good to see nonetheless.  I've been frustrated before by their lack of cross-references, and I'm glad to say that I have no cause for complaint this time.

The museum also set up some stuff outside the gallery, so as to draw visitors in - also good!  The Small Documents Gallery is down a corridor, and easy to overlook, so the more you can alert people to its existence, the better.  I say this and mean it, although part of the attraction of the Gallery for me is the fact that it's often empty when I come to visit.  Not so this time, the display outside in the corridor seems to have worked in luring people in.

So who was Clotilde Arias?  She was a Peruvian immigrant who came to New York City in 1923 to study music.  In 1945, the State Department asked for a translation of the Star Spangled Banner into Spanish and Portuguese, in order to spread American values in Latin America.  Previous translations were not singable - apparently, they were simply word for word translations.  The government was looking for something that could be sung to the tune of the Star Spangled Banner (originally the official song of a London club, the Anacreontic Society, and the lyrics celebrated wine, women and entertainment - bet you didn't know that, did you?  I certainly didn't.).  Arias' version was chosen as the official Spanish language translation, and is the only version allowed to be sung.  She received $150 for her work.

Although Arias was separated from Francis Scott Key by time, gender and ethnicity, they are tied together by her work on the song.  I found that concept very interesting: that two people who never met or worked together and would have had little in common if they had, are able to share the credit for creating something.

The translation was not the only work that Arias did, however.  She translated Take Me Out to the Ball Game, and numerous advertising pieces into Spanish, for use in Latin American markets.  She also wrote her own Spanish language advertising jingles.  She also became involved in the idea of Pan Americanism - the idea that the countries of the Western Hemisphere should be more unified.  For example, she advocated requiring Spanish to be taught in U.S. schools, in order to foster more unity with Latin America.

This display was by far the most elaborate of the ones I've seen over the years in this space.  Whether this is a one-time extravaganza, or a harbinger of things to come, only time will tell.  Much as I like the solitude and the homely arrangement of artifacts, I hope they continue to show more "splashy" exhibits here - more visitors will be likely to take a look at what's on offer, and that's a good thing.

Verdict: Make time for this show the next time you're at American History - interesting and fun.