One of Those Shows I Should Have Liked, But Just Couldn't

Where: Smithsonian American Art Museum

When: closing January 6, 2019

Note: the closing date listed above assumes the federal government will re-open sometime in the next few days.  Since that seems unlikely, you should assume your last chance to see this show is January 1, 2019.  Obviously, this is no way to run a banana stand, and I am really angry that we're in this position AGAIN.  The closing of the Smithsonian is, in reality, the least of the problems with government shutdowns, and the fact that they have been able to remain open for the week between Christmas and New Year's Day, when they take in an enormous amount of money, is good.  Still, this is ludicrous.

Trevor Paglen describes his work as "experimental geography."  He documents things that are not meant to be seen, of which there are disturbingly many.  The item pictured here is "Trinity Cube," and it's made of irradiated glass from Fukushima.  The inner core is made of trinitite, which was created at the Trinity test site in Alamagordo, NM in 1945.  What's on display (lest you fear for your health) is an artist's proof; the original is located at Fukushima, and will be seen when it is safe to enter.

I confess, I felt rather confused by the layout of this show - where to begin and how to proceed?  I guess it makes no difference, but still...I like to have some idea of where I'm going.

I did like the drone photos (large sky pictures, with tiny drones in them); I made a game out of trying to find the drones.  Some of them I saw right away, but others required quite a bit of searching.

Mostly, I was just disoriented by the show.  I understand the point Paglen is making, and I believe it's an important one.  It's just that after the Trinity Cube and the drone pics, there wasn't a lot that held my interest.

Verdict: If you're interested in the surveillance state, be sure to see this show.  If you're looking for actual "art," you may want to look elsewhere. 

Not as Many Laughs as You Might Think

Where: National Gallery of Art, West Building

When: closing January 6 2019

Humor has been a subject of art for centuries, but it turns out, a lot of the laughs don't age well.  The wall notes promise jocular subjects from Leonardo to R. Crumb, which is quite a timeline.  There are more prints and drawings in this show than paintings and sculpture, which makes sense.  I can't think of a humorous sculpture, although there must be some.  Paintings are also not usually funny.  The notes posit that this is because humor is, by its nature, subversive, and therefore, more likely to have been created quickly and out of the eye of the powerful it was lampooning.  Hence, the quick sketches, rather than the painstaking marble.

Other than the origin of the "Ship of Fools" idea (I confess, I was reminded of Gary Larson's "Car of Idiots") and the focus on the hypocrisy between those espousing high ideals in public and not living up to them in private, I found the early works to be a bit too heavy on the excretory and alcoholic aspects to be really funny.  I was delighted to see an Albrecht Durer book illustration, so it wasn't all lost on me.

I also liked the anamorphose - a distorted drawing that can only be seen in a cylindrical mirror.  Who came up with this idea?  Why?  If I didn't actually laugh at the cleverness of this genre, I at least smirked a bit.

In the 18th and 19th centuries, political satire makes its appearance, which obviously continues to this day.   There was mention made of the late 1700s fascination with finding the "perfect view," which, of course, reminded me of Mansfield Park.  Modern day satire included not only Andy Warhol (see the Nixon as Wicked Witch of the West pictured here) and the Guerrilla Girls, with their emphasis on the lack of women artists in pretty much every art museum in the world.

Verdict: An interesting show, with some good pieces, but it's not the laugh riot you might think from the title.

Happy 50th!

Where: National Portrait Gallery

When: closing January 6, 2019

The building that currently houses the National Portrait Gallery and the Smithsonian American Art Museum was originally the Patent Office.  It also was the site of Lincoln's second Inaugural Ball.  For the past 50 years, it has been the home of portraits and American art, as part of the Smithsonian.  This small display celebrates the anniversary of its re-opening.

The building was originally slated to be turned into a parking lot; thanks are due to President Eisenhower for signing legislation to give it to the Smithsonian instead.  It housed the National Portrait Gallery and what was then called the National Collection of Fine Arts.

The display includes many artifacts from the re-opening ceremony; the photo is of a poster designed by Claes Oldenburg.  Am I the only one who sees what's going on with that?  An interesting choice for a publicly-funded organization to make, but this was the swinging '60s, so perhaps that explains it?

The notes also make mention of the fact that the surrounding neighborhood has experienced ups and downs over the years, and I can attest to the truth of that statement.  I can well remember when that part of town was full of seedy wig shops, and people hurried home after work, so as not to be there after dark.  Now, it's a vibrant part of the city, with shops (none of which sell wigs), restaurants, the Capital One Arena and lots of new office buildings.  I work just a block away from the museum, and I never feel uncomfortable walking around, even at night.

Verdict: If you have any interest in DC history or the history of the Smithsonian, this is a very interesting show.

The (Literal) Art of Correspondence

Where: Archives of American Art

When: closing January 4, 2019

In the 1960s, artists starting sending art through the mail - not shipping paintings or sculptures, but making art out of envelopes and letters. I suppose this is yet another thing that our digital age has taken from us: the opportunity to receive a work of art in our post box.  I know you can use different backgrounds and fonts in an email, but somehow, it's just not the same.

Mail art not only allowed artists to communicate with others, it also allowed them to circumvent museums and galleries to share their work with their correspondents.  Perhaps one could make a comparison to bloggers sharing their thoughts outside the world of newspaper reviews and criticism?

Marginalized groups (whether outside the mainstream based on gender, sexual orientation or political beliefs) were also users of mail art, as it allowed them to communicate without fear of reprisal from those in power.  Alternative art required alternative methods of distribution.

Verdict: Worth having a look at this one-room show; you never know what might be in the mail carrier's bag...

A New Location for In Memoriam

Where: National Portrait Gallery

When: closing January 1, 2019

Obviously, with the death of President George H. W. Bush, the Portrait Gallery has a new "In Memoriam" display.  What sets this apart, is that it's not in the usual space on the first floor, but within the American Presidents display on the second floor.  As you can see from the photo, there's a black drape hanging over the portrait to indicate his recent death.

Verdict: To say this is "closing" on January 1 is a little mis-leading.  The portrait will remain indefinitely, so you can see it whenever you like.  I'm assuming it's the drape that will be removed.

Leaving the Landscapes Behind

Where: National Gallery of Art, West Building

When: closing December 31, 2018

I think the only good thing about a threat of a government shutdown is that it gives me some serious incentive to get out to the museums before they close for who knows how long.  This past week, I saw more exhibits than I've seen in months, including several I would have been sorry to miss.

The first one I visited was this Corot retrospective at the National Gallery.  Although he's known primarily for his landscapes, this show is entirely portraits, almost all of women.  Unlike other French artists, who showed idealized visions of feminine beauty, Corot opted to portray his subjects in a more realistic light.

In the show's first room, all the women appear in some sort of costume; apparently, he kept lots of clothing in his studio for this purpose.  The clothes are not "real," but the women in the clothes certainly are.  No blushing milkmaids or inscrutable foreign maidens here.   Not only are they not all exquisitely beautiful, they are not all smiling and demure.  They look right at the viewer, and if they are less than happy, the viewer knows it.

Although Corot painted in the 19th century, the beginnings of modernism are visible, if one knows where to look.  Many of his works are unfinished, giving them an abstract look.  The wall notes show pieces by Picasso and other modern artists that seem to take their cues from Corot's work.  I'm not knowledgeable enough about modern art to say if the connections are real, but the similarities are certainly there.

My favorite piece in the show is one called "Woman with a Pearl."  The model is looking out at something the viewer cannot see, and has a sort of veil over her hair and face.  It doesn't obscure her face, but does provide a bit of glitter to the painting that one doesn't often see in 19th century works.

Verdict: This is an intriguing show, which I would recommend.  While you're there, check out the lovely holiday decorations (some are visible in the photo) - always a treat.

Mail Call

Where: National Postal Museum

When: closing December 2, 2018

Here's yet another show I rushed to see before it closed.  I'm very much of two minds about the Postal Museum: on the one hand, it's part of my beloved Smithsonian, but on the other, it's such a nuisance to get over there.

Most of the time, I'm not sure that the exhibits I see are worth the trek.  They're okay, but nothing to really write home about.  Just when I'm about to skip a show, I remember the fantastic display of "secrets" that people wrote in to the USPS - I'm very glad I didn't miss that.  And I really enjoyed the show about FDR and stamps, and I got to see the world's rarest stamp...you see the quandary I'm in.

So this time, I forked over some money to Metro and took the subway over to Union Station to pay a visit.  This show is part of the 100th anniversary of the ending of WWI, and deals with the letters between servicemen fighting overseas and their families.  Mail from home was enormously important, obviously, as was mail sent back to the US.

Those letters from the front didn't always give a realistic view of what was happening, both because people didn't want to horrify their families, and due to censorship of the mail, lest the letters fall into enemy hands and reveal important information.  Charitable organizations would distribute post cards to soldiers, sometimes with pre-printed messages - which seems a bit impersonal, but I suppose was better than nothing.

The name of the show, "My Fellow Soldiers," was taken from the beginning of a postwar letter from General Pershing to all the members of the American Expeditionary Force, recognizing their service.

Verdict: An interesting small show, easily managed in a lunch hour, depending on how long it takes you to get to the museum!

Home Comes the Sailor, Home from the Sea

Where: National Gallery of Art, West Building, Main Floor

When: closing November 25, 2018

I know, I know, I've been timing my visits very close to the deadline lately - this show closes tomorrow.  What with rainy weather, a bad cold and some very busy days at work, my fall has been a season of discontent, at least as far as going to museums is concerned.  My plan is to re-commit myself to getting some culture at mid-day for the rest of 2018!

The marvelous model ship pictured here is from the National Gallery's exhibit on Dutch water paintings.  The 17th century was the Dutch Golden Age, and it was all about the water.  They sailed on it; they skated on it; they fished on it.  And they painted it.

I'll confess that seascapes are not my favorite type of paintings, and naval battles are not my favorite type of seascapes, so the beauty of those offerings was lost on me.  Frankly, I find battle depictions of any sort (text, art) only but so interesting.

Happily, there were also more homely scenes on offer, including one by Hendrick Avercamp, called "A Scene on the Ice."  It looked quite familiar, and I'm pretty sure I saw it in the small show the National Gallery had several years ago on the Dutch Little Ice Age.  The Little Ice Age is the name given to a period of time in the 1600s when it was extraordinarily cold, and the canals froze solidly enough to support all manner of winter sports, including something called kolf, which was a sort of golf/ice hockey hybrid.  Paintings of the Dutch enjoying themselves in their winter finery is much more my cup of tea.

The model ships are very impressive - the one pictured is perhaps the best, but all are worth a look.

Verdict: A good show, although if you like seascapes, you'll like it more than I did.

Who Doesn't Like a God that Likes Dessert?

Where: Sackler Gallery

When: closing November 18, 2018

Go today to see this small display of works from Southeast Asia that demonstrate power.  Water and snakes were both viewed as potent symbols, and both appear here.  Interestingly enough, although snakes often have negative associations in the West, they were viewed as a positive force in South and Southeast Asia.

My favorite piece was the one of Ganesha, pictured here.  He has an elephant head and a belly full of sweets, as he is quite partial to dessert.  He is beloved as a friend of beginnings and remover of obstacles.  He always seems friendly in the representations I've seen, a companionable deity.

Verdict: I believe all of the works on display are from the Sackler's own collection, so I'm hoping I've not seen the last of them.

Japan's Take on the Buddha

Where: Freer Gallery of Art

When: closing November 12, 2018

Today's the last day to see this one-room exhibit on Buddhist art in Japan - it's a lovely (if cold) day here in the DMV, so what better way to spend it than by visiting the Freer?

 The historical Buddha was born in the 5th century BCE.  I don't want to boil Buddhism down to one statement, but what was emphasized in the exhibit was the idea that a middle path between excessive consumption and total austerity is what leads to enlightenment.  There's clearly a political analogy to be made here, but I'll leave that to someone else to broadcast.

Buddhism came to Japan in the sixth century, and Japanese religious art is what is on offer in this show.  The fearsome fellow pictured here is the Lord of Burning Desire, and the Freer has helpfully tagged him with a red plaque, indicating that he's one of the "best" items in the room.  The carving and the color of the lotus he's sitting on are first rate.

There's also a discussion of what's inside the statuary.  Many of the pieces are hollow, and sometimes, sacred texts were placed inside, like a sort of reliquary.  I was reminded of the National Gallery's Degas dancer exhibit, which showed she had paint brushes and other items inside.  Not that I'm comparing a paint brush to a sacred text!  Just that they were both inside statutes.

Verdict: Worth a visit - you know the Freer: beautiful things, beautifully arranged.

So Now I'm an Expert on Burning Man

Where: Renwick Gallery

When: closing January 21, 2019

No, I've not seen all the shows closing in 2018 yet, but a friend of mine wanted to see the Burning Man show at the Renwick, so I saw this "out of order."  I've never been to Burning Man, nor really had any desire to go, but after seeing this show, I am certainly more curious about it.

The exhibit focuses on the art of Burning Man, and everyone who attends the festival is meant to be an artist of some sort.  People who only come to gawk and wear costumes are called "Sparkle Ponies" and not in a good way,

This is a very large show, taking up the entire top floor of the museum.  It's room after room of peculiar and fascinating works; the picture attached is of a mushroom-like piece that opens and shuts when a visitor stands in a particular spot.  It's odd, but fun.  The picture is of the view looking up into the piece.

The real capstone is the temple.  My friend suggested we save that for last, and I would make that recommendation to anyone who visits.  It's in the Grand Salon, so it's quite large.  Apparently, every year at Burning Man, there's a temple, and people come there and write tributes to people they have lost.  At the end of Burning Man, they burn the temple (and the Man).  People are writing tributes here as well; what they will do with this temple when the show ends in January, I do not know.

Verdict: Whether you know anything about Burning Man or not, this show is most definitely worth seeing.  Since the Renwick has re-opened, they've had one excellent exhibit after another, and I'm eager to see what they do next.

Singing Just For Me

Where: Hirshhorn Museum & Sculpture Garden

When: ends October 14, 2018

So after I saw Mark Bradford's Pickett's Charge, I asked the docent on duty at the main entrance reception desk where I might find the "Tino Sehgal: This You" performance.  I'd heard that a person would be performing as people walked by outside the museum and in the garden but wasn't exactly sure where to go.  She directed me to the garden, thinking that perhaps the performances wouldn't be going on, but that there were some Seghal sculptures to see there.

I never did find the sculptures, but as I was walking around aimlessly, a woman all of a sudden starting singing.  I stopped and listened and thanked her when she was done.  It was a little weird to have someone I didn't know singing just for me, but I thought it would be rude to walk past her or pretend I didn't know she was performing.

As I walked on, another person walked up, and she did the same thing (with a different bit of song).  He just walked on, so perhaps I'm not well versed in how these pop-up performances work.  Or maybe, he was just rude.

The woman had a good voice, so I liked hearing her, whether as a direct performance, or as a sort of background music as I made my way out of the garden.

Verdict: How often do you get to have your own private concert? If you're at the Hirshhorn this coming week, give a listen.

Beneath the Surface

Where: Hirshhorn Museum & Sculpture Gallery

When: closing November 12, 2018

All around the inner ring of the Hirshhorn's third floor is Mark Bradford's "Pickett's Charge."  Bradford has taken a reproduction of the cyclorama and transformed it into an examination of what's missing in our depictions of history.

In some places, he's scraped away the image to reveal what's underneath.  In other places, he's added braids that run through the image.  In yet other places, he's covered the image with colored paper.  So yes, it is the cyclorama, but it's also not the cyclorama.

I was strongly reminded of the Kara Walker show I saw at American Art last December (how can it have been that long ago?).  She also started with reproductions (in her case of 19th-century texts) and used them to show a more complete history.  My blog post on her show is here: A Truth That Will Not Be Contained.

The wall notes suggest that this work can be used as a lens to see the current political climate in a new way, and I'm sure that's right.  At this moment, the current political climate is so depressing, I'd rather just think about the Civil War.  Yes, that's completely ridiculous, but here we are.

Verdict: Great work, made specifically for the Hirshhorn.  Once the run is over, I'm assuming it will no longer exist.  See it now!

National Portrait Gallery Shows Some International Flavor

Where: National Portrait Gallery

When: closing November 12, 2018

This look at Swiss portraiture marks the beginning of a new venture at the National Portrait Gallery, called Portraits of the World.  It's meant to show how works by artists from other countries have influenced American portraiture, and this first offering was quite interesting.

Ferdinand Hodler's "Woman in Ecstasy: Giulia Leonardi" is the featured painting - seen here.  This work has both the specificity of his particular subject, along with the universality of the human joy in movement.  Hodler was interested in nature's rhythmic patterns, and his work resonated with his contemporaries in the world of dance.

In dialogue with this portrait are several works of dancers and dancing, including one of my favorites: a chromolithograph of Loie Fuller at the Folies Bergere.  Her dancing and use of extravagant costuming and lighting made her revered among the French, who considered her the embodiment of Art Nouveau.  Considering how beautiful Art Nouveau works are, that's quite the compliment.

Verdict: The plan is that each year, the NPG will showcase a different country, and they're off to a fine start.  I look forward to seeing and learning more in future.

McCain photo

Where: National Portrait Gallery

When: closing September 9, 2018 (today)

I actually saw this photograph a while ago, and life has prevented me from posting until now.  The past few weeks have been rough in terms of museum visits; I've had foot problems, the weather has been either super humid or rainy and work has been frantic.  But tomorrow begins a new week, and I'm hoping I will get the chance to see something wonderful I can share with you next weekend.

There were a large number of people looking at this portrait when I was there; no surprise.  There was also a condolence book, which I don't believe I've seen before.  I have mixed feelings about McCain, and I think people are romanticizing him and what his death means for American politics.

Yes, he would cross the aisle to support legislation from time to time, but the rancor in Washington has existed for a long time now; I don't remember the Reagan administration as some sort of bastion of good behavior.  And remember, if you've heard of Sarah Palin, it's because of John McCain.

On the other hand, he wasn't a megalomaniac who requires a constant spotlight and a parade of sycophants to sing his praises 24/7, so you've got to give him that.

McCain said, perhaps in his autobiography, that he was honored to have played a small part in the nation's history, and this photograph seems a visual representation of that.  He is surrounded by the Capitol building's columns, which tower over him, as if to remind the viewer that no one person is greater than the country itself.

Verdict: Worth a look, if you're out in today's wet weather.

The Art in War

Where: Air and Space Museum

When: closing November 11, 2018

All wars are terrible and World War I's trench warfare have always seemed to me to be especially barbaric.  Stuck in filthy conditions for an endless period of time, with the fear of death a constant presence, how people survived this, let alone made art, is incredible.  Nonetheless, there were artists in the trenches and elsewhere near the front lines, and their work is on display at the Air and Space Museum.

Side note: Why Air and Space?  There's not a particular focus on pilots or airplanes, so the location doesn't really make sense.  American Art would be more understandable, or the Ripley.  But Air and Space is where this is, so to Air and Space you must go to see it.  Keep in mind, it's summer as I type this, so the Mall is thick with family groups.  Expect running, screaming and masses of people, pretty much par for the course at A&S.

The wall notes posit that the artistic expression in WWI contributed to how societies see war, as this was the first time the reality of battle had been brought to the notice of the civilian populations.   I wonder if this is true; the photos of dead soldiers in the American Civil War brought combat home quite directly.  I don't think anyone by the time of the early 20th century was truly under any illusions about the reality of war.  The government recruitment posters certainly painted a rosy picture of noble men making the world safe for democracy, but surely most people would have realized that was more propaganda than anything else.

Something I didn't realize is that even though the U.S. declared war in April of 1917, the first American troops didn't arrive in Europe until early 1918.  I know you can't assemble an army of volunteers overnight, but eight months of delay is a long time, especially to those soldiers counting on the U.S. troops to turn the tide of the war in their favor.

There were eight professional illustrators embedded with the American Expeditionary Force, specifically with the Engineer Corps of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers.  They created over 700 works which, after a display in the 1920s, have been largely unseen since.  This show is a selection of those works, along with works by regular soldiers.  Among the professionals' works, The Sentry, by Harvey Thomas Dunn, was the one that stuck with me - the eyes of the soldier depicted just stared out at nothing, really haunting.

The soldier artists created cave paintings (that was another fact I learned - soldiers lived in caves, as well as trenches for long periods of time during the war).  These focus on their homes and families - what they hope to return to.  They have been lost to view, as the caves are on private land.  A photographer traveled to France to record these works, so what you see are his photographs.

Verdict: Very moving show, an unsentimental look at a terrible conflict from those who lived it.  Highly recommended.

Back to the Freer

Where: Freer Gallery of Art

When: closing November 4, 2018

I had not been back to the Freer since its grand re-opening, so I was doubly anxious to see this show.  I like Japanese screens very much, and I was eager to see what changes had been made.

I'm happy to report that my previous description of the museum: beautiful things, beautifully displayed, still holds true.  I still felt a sense of relaxation just walking inside the doors.  It is still my second favorite Smithsonian museum (a close second to the Sackler).

What I really like that's new is the use of red plaques in the rooms containing the permanent collection.  They point out the highlights of each room, so if you have a short amount of time, you can see the "best" of the Freer very easily.  For instance, I saw a knife, carved from a meteor that hit Japan in 1621, the only one of four that were crafted that survives to the present day.  How great is that?  It's art from outer space!

What I came to see was a display of Japanese screens, depicting a sense of place.  Note that these are winter scenes, which were put up in spring and summer to give the viewer a sense of coolness.  Very appropriate for DC in the summertime.  The set of two that I photographed are called "Resilient Friendship."  I love that term; aren't resilient friendships something we all need?

Verdict: It's the Freer, so it's wonderful.

What's New?

Where: National Portrait Gallery

When: closing November 4, 2018

In the same hallway as the Henrietta Lacks portrait is a selection of recent acquisitions.  This display changes every six months or so, so you can pretty much always see what's new.

I feel confident that I've described the criteria for inclusion in the collection before.  My plan for this post was to skip any discussion of that, but I overheard a tour guide describing it while I was there, and I found out some new information.

Obviously, there are some portraits that will "stand the test of time," as the guide put it.  Presidents of the United States, Founding Fathers, other famous people from America's past, all of them will be important for the foreseeable future.  But what about people who are famous or important now, but might not be in 10 or 20 or 50 years?

The "currently famous" (my term) people are designated as "contemporary."  All items in the Portrait Gallery's collection have a letter-number sequence that identifies them.  The contemporary works have a "C" in their identifier.  In theory, if the person is later deemed not important enough to warrant a place in the permanent collection, their portrait could be withdrawn.  In fact, the guide said she'd never seen anything be withdrawn, and if someone was considered not worthy of inclusion in the permanent collection, they'd just stay in the contemporary collection.  To a museum geek like myself, this was fascinating.

I took a snapshot of the Madeleine Albright portrait because I thought it was very well done, and I really liked her dove pin.  I saw a show on her pins once at the Smithsonian Castle, and she chooses them with great care.  They are designed to send a message to anyone with whom she is meeting, so the fact that she chose this symbol of peace for this portrait sends the right message, I think.  Plus, as a great fan of Leslie Knope, how could I not include one of her heroes?

Another terrific piece was a book illustration of Henry Box Brown.  Brown was an enslaved person who literally shipped himself in a crate to an abolitionist society in Philadelphia.  Imagine their surprise when they opened this box and a person emerged.  It's a great story of human courage, endurance and ingenuity.

Verdict: With a wide variety of subjects and styles, there's something for everyone.

Immortality

Where: National Portrait Gallery

When: closing November 4, 2018

There are a lot of shows closing in November this year (is this always the pattern?  I seem to recall lots closing in January and very few in December in years past, but I can't recall if November is usually a busy month...), so I'm getting an early start so I don't miss anything.

First up is this portrait of Henrietta Lacks, whose cells have been used to fight cancer since her untimely death in 1951.  A book and movie have been made about her life and the controversy surrounding the use of her cells, so I won't go into the full story here.

Suffice it to say, the cells were taken without her knowledge or permission, and her family has (as far as I know) never been given any compensation for their use.  If it were me, I'd be happy to donate some cells that might be helpful to  research, but I'd want to be asked first.  It's a matter of being treated with dignity, and isn't that something we all want?

Verdict: Take time to see this portrait the next time you're at the Portrait Gallery; both the subject and the messages in the portrait are worth a look.

An Unexpected Pleasure

Where: National Gallery of Art, East Building

When: closing October 28, 2018

The East Building of the NGA is currently devoting a room to the works of Jackson Pollock.  The signature piece is the one pictured here, "Mural," from 1943.  He painted it originally for a hallway in Peggy Guggenheim's townhouse, and she donated it to the University of Iowa Museum of Art.  Why she decided to give it to an institution so far removed from the New York art world (as opposed to say, the Guggenheim), I don't know, and it's obviously outside the scope of this exhibit to elucidate that point.

However it made its way to middle America, it's back on the East Coast for a visit now.  Pollock is not really to my taste, but I'll say this for "Mural,"  it's far better than his drip paintings, some of which are on display.  There's something rather cheerful in the use of the color yellow in this painting, and I don't dislike the swirling nature of the lines.  You'll also see some works on paper, which I'm tempted to call doodling, but will not.

So, I was thinking that this was about what I had expected, which is to say, art I don't really care for very much, but nothing like as bad as Georg Baselitz, when I noticed a doorway into another room.  Thinking there might be more to the show, I walked through it and came upon this work:

Not more Jackson Pollock, but more of the NGA's modern art collection, and among the offerings, "Girl on Globe 2" by Yinka Shonibare.  I had seen this piece once before, at the Corcoran, and I knew that the NGA had acquired it, but I hadn't actually seen it in its new location before.

I was filled with surprise and delight to see this fantastic work - it's about climate change and the French Revolution and how society treats children all at once.  I'll say that the display at the Corcoran was far superior to this.  It was the centerpiece of a room a French count had built for his princess fiancee, so you had the pre-Revolution excess and the argument against it, all in one place.  Really wonderful curation.  Not so here; the Shonibare is in with a bunch of other modern works, but I'm so happy I found it, I'll not quibble.

Verdict: The Pollock show is fine, if you like that sort of thing, and I'm very pleased to know the Shonibare piece has landed in a place where I can see it any time I like.

How Bad Is It?

Where: Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden

When: closing September 16, 2018

I read a really scathing review of the Georg Baselitz career retrospective in the Washington Post recently, and when I say really scathing I mean the title included the phrase "overrated hack."  So, rather than approaching this show with my usual fear and loathing, I went to the Hirshhorn looking forward to seeing just how bad this would be.

And it is bad.  Everything is ugly, like Tolstoy's unhappy families, each in its own way.  Those worm headed people in the photograph are what greet you at the door - not my definition of an inviting introduction.

But have no fear, if you don't like this, there's lots of different types of things to follow.  Unfortunately, they're all just tiresome nonsense.  Usually, even in a show I don't care for, there's one thing that I think isn't too awful.  Not so here!  Give the man points for consistency.

The best thing I can say for Baselitz is that, unlike my least favorite artist, Yves Klein, he doesn't sell people gold ingots to throw in the Seine.  I realize that's damning with faint praise, but it's the only praise I have.

According to the wall notes, Baselitz is one of the leading artistic figures of post-WWII Germany.  Poor Germany, if that's the case.  The land of Albrecht Durer is reduced to this?  One shakes one's head in sorrow and pity.  Another wall note tells me that Baselitz was influenced by Mannerist painting, which explains a lot.  Of all the artistic genres to leave by the wayside, Mannerism ranks high on my list.

At one point, he decided to create upside down portraits.  So you have paintings that appear to be straightforward pictures of people, except they're all upside down.  It makes it hard to really look at them, because you're trying to put them right side up in your mind.  My question: does he paint them upside down (which is what I assume he's doing, as there was a quote from him saying how hard it was to get the right perspective), or does he really paint them right side up and then insist they be hung upside down?

Not content to make ugly paintings, he branched out into sculpture.  At least it's not upside down.  The show ends with a piece that is meant to be some sort of homage to Andy Warhol.  It appears to be gigantic wooden legs in high heeled shoes, painted black and tied together at the top.  I'm no Warhol expert, but I can't imagine he would be happy to have something so ugly associated with him.

Verdict: Go for the upside down paintings; stay for the ugly sculpture.  Or don't go at all.

Usually I Like the Hirshhorn Videos...

Where: Hirshhorn Museum

When: closing August 12, 2018

As much as I dislike the Hirshhorn, and I dislike it a lot, I usually enjoy the video offerings.  They are funny, or moving or thought-provoking in some way.  So I wasn't dreading my trip this past week to see several videos having to do with the connection between the mind and the body.

The museum is having live performances by these artists over the course of the next several weeks, but I wasn't not sure I'd be able to see any of those, so I thought I'd go for the exhibit of their work instead.  A viewing area is set up on the inner ring of the second floor, with numerous screens and little stands across from each one.  Lots of room for many people to see what's on offer.

I only watched part of one video, but that was plenty.  It was called "Swivel Spot."  It begins pretty weird and just gets stranger as it goes along.  A topless woman sits on the floor, eating peanuts and tossing the shells on the ground, while a man walks around with an enormous tape dispenser, wrapping things in tape.  Another man (who starts out shirtless, but then dons a red shirt, bizarre glasses and a woman's wig) is in the room as well.  When he took off all his clothes, rubbed his backside with some sort of lotion/glue/I don't know what and rolled around in the peanut shells, I decided I'd had enough.

Verdict: Maybe the video I watched makes sense in the end; maybe the rest of the works are terrific, I don't know.  But, life is short, and sometimes, you have to know when to give up on something.

Art at the Crossroads

Where: African Art Museum

When: closing September 3, 2018

The Swahili Coast marks the intersection of Africa and the Indian Ocean.  Over centuries, peoples and their artistic traditions have met and mixed here, and this exhibit is a survey of what that mingling has produced.  This melting pot of cultures has allowed Islamic influences and traditional African art to meld into a distinct set of artworks: jewelry, textiles, furniture and other woodwork, photography - even board games.

Jewelry is well-represented in this show, and it was an important commodity in years past.  It was a sound investment, which allowed women some autonomy.  It functioned as a type of private nest egg, separate from their husband's wealth.

The pieces that most impressed me were the beautifully carved wooden doorways, the craftsmanship was wonderful.  Intricate in design and expert in execution, they are a way of bringing art into one's home - making the necessary exceptional.

The photography section reminds us that the "selfie" craze is just the latest manifestation of the human desire to be documented, to be seen in a certain way or with certain other people.  These photographs served purposes very similar to those of Western portraits - social signifiers that indicated that the subject was worthy of being remembered, that their image was worthy of preservation.

Just when I thought I'd left the exhibit behind, what should I see but this small robot, named Pepper, who wanted to tell me about the show and about the Swahili language.  Since part of my job is tracking news about automation and the advent of robots in the workplace, how could I resist a conversation with a real "live" example?  Pepper did most of the talking, although it did ask me to learn some Swahili words and say them out loud.  My only criticism, and I mean this to be constructive, is that Pepper is really short.  I'm not tall, and I was stooping over to touch the screen.  Perhaps this is meant to ensure that it is not intimidating to children?

Verdict: An interesting exhibit and cultural history lesson in one.  And a talking robot!

A Double Dip of Monet

Where: National Gallery of Art, West Building

When: closing July 29, 2018

The National Gallery occasionally borrows an artwork from another museum and puts it with the permanent collection.  It's usually something related to a work the NGA already owns.

Currently, a Monet painting of his garden at Vetheuil is on loan from the Norton Simon Foundation in Pasadena, CA.  It's on the left in the photo above.  It's smaller and is missing some elements included in the NGA's version on the right.

When I visited, a tour group was in the room, talking about the paintings, so I couldn't really examine them terribly closely.  In addition, a painter was there (you can see part of her canvas on the right of the snapshot), and I didn't want to interfere with her work.  Nonetheless, it was interesting to see the changes in the painting and to realize that painters will return to subjects to paint them in a different way.

Verdict:  Have a look the next time you're at the National Gallery.

First Thing I Remember

Where: National Portrait Gallery

When: closing July 8, 2018

The first thing I can remember in my life was waking up one morning, waiting for my mother to come into my bedroom to get me ready for the day.  When she didn't arrive, I went to her bedroom, to find her with the TV on.  Robert Kennedy had been killed the night before, and she was watching the news reports of his death.

That's now 50 years ago, which seems impossible, but there we are.  This lithograph by Roy Lichtenstein shows Kennedy as a young, energetic man with a message.  It exudes movement and urgency, a determination to make the world a different place.

This portrait was used on the cover of TIME magazine on May 24, 1968.

Verdict: Worth a look if you're at the Portrait Gallery.

Toiling Away

Where: National Portrait Gallery

When: closing September 3, 2018

Museum quality portraits are usually of the high and mighty, but this show focuses on the workers of society.  Where else would you see a Richard Avedon photograph of an oil rig workers?

The wall notes at the beginning of the show set the tone for what will follow:  "Work serves as a foundation for the philosophy of self-improvement and social mobility that undergirds this country's value system."

I think that's quite true; the American Dream is that, if you work hard and play by the rules, you can succeed in improving your financial situation and your social status.  What happens, however, when the dream is revealed to be just that: a dream?   Or when the amount of work required just to survive means there's no time for any quality of life?

This show offers the viewer the opportunity to look at work on different levels: as constantly changing due to new technology, as backbreaking and dangerous labor, as a place of common purpose and community.    It also demonstrates that physical labor may have changed over the centuries, but it is with us still.  The blacksmith is gone, but the migrant worker remains.

I was struck by the ambrotype "African American Woman with Two White Children" by an unidentified artist in 1860.  It reminded me strongly of some of the Sally Mann photographs I saw in her National Gallery retrospective recently.

I also saw a Yousuf Karsh, not of a famous person, but of two auto workers.  It was described as showing their friendship and ability to work together.  Am I the only one to pick up on an element of homoeroticism?

Finally, there was an Elizabeth Catlett piece, "Sharecropper."  I very much admire her work, so was happy to see another example.

This is mostly a combination of photography and paintings/prints.  There's also a video at the end and some sculpture.  I found the photographs, for the most part, less sentimental than the other works.  It's hard to romanticize a barefoot child working in a poorhouse, if you don't have license to add in a smiling face or cheerful sunshine.

Verdict: Very fine show; worth spending some time to see the art and the message behind it.

Taking a Glance at the Richter Archive

Where: National Gallery of Art Library, East Building

When: closing August 24, 2018

The National Gallery purchased the George Martin Richter Archive of Illustrations on Art in 1943.  To celebrate the 75th anniversary of the arrival of this important resource for artistic scholarship, the Library has put several items from the archive on display.

What appealed to me most was that Richter developed his own classification scheme for his collection.  That's the sort of thing that might appear easy to do, but is in fact incredibly difficult, especially as one's collection grows.  And this collection numbers about 60,000 items.

I also enjoyed seeing a photograph of a bullring in Madrid - included for its architecture.  It's not that I have any interest in bullfighting, but I remember this photograph from a show in 2011, and I always feel proud of myself for recognizing something I've seen before.

Verdict: Worth a look if you are interested in archival collections or the history of the National Gallery's holdings.

In Memoriam: Tom Wolfe

Where: National Portrait Gallery

When: not certain, probably won't be up for long

I happened upon this portrait as I was taking a walk around the museum, not to see anything in particular, but just to get out of the office for a bit.

Tom Wolfe was an American author and journalist, associated with New Journalism.  There are any number of obits available, so I won't bother going into his life story.

This photo was taken by Yousuf Karsh, whose work I have admired in several shows at the NPG.  It's nicely constructed, with Wolfe in his signature white suit (he probably could have gone anywhere wearing something else and been unrecognized).  I like the juxtaposition of Wolfe and the artwork behind him.

Verdict: Not sure how long this will be on display; it's not even listed on the Smithsonian website.  If you want to see it, best not to wait too long.

How Things Went Viral Before the Internet

Where: National Gallery of Art, West Building

When: closing August 5, 2018

There's a lovely display of majolica (or maiolica) at the National Gallery right now.  A perfect storm of printed images, tin-glazed ceramics created in Italy based on Islamic designs, and an interest in antiquities made the 15th century a fertile time for maiolica.

Printed images made their way to artists who took those pictures and translated them into ceramics.  The images were very colorful (my beef with prints is that they are usually monochromatic), eye-catching and popular.  One artist would see what another was doing and develop his own take on the original print.  The exhibit shows both the prints and the maiolica, so it's easy to see the movement from one medium to the other.

Much to my delight, there were Durer prints in the last room; I love his precision.  Some of that is lost in the ceramic "version," but I enjoyed seeing the transformation nonetheless.

Last week, I saw 19th century selfies; this week, 15th century viral images.  There really is nothing new under the sun.

Verdict: I liked this show; it's interesting and a good size for a lunchtime visit.

Selfies Are Nothing New

Where: Sackler Gallery

When: closing August 5, 2018

Selfies are a modern scourge, but they have historical antecedents.  For centuries, rulers have been using portraits to project an image of themselves to their subjects; selfies are just a way for everyone (high or low) to do something similar.

The Qajar dynasty in Iran knew very well the impact of a picture and used portraiture in the 19th century to demonstrate their power and nobility to their people.  A Turkic tribe who settled in northern Iran in the 13th century, they gradually conquered and united the country.  They ruled from the late 18th to the early 20th century.

In the 1800s, Iran and its traditional Persian conventions were influenced by European techniques in portraiture and by the advance of photography.  The Qajars used both to depict themselves; they managed to mix the old and the new in the pictures they distributed to their subjects.

Also on display is an example of a termeh cloth, a luxurious traditional Iranian handcraft.  Next to the cloth itself are photographs of Qajar rulers wearing termeh.  For an audience (myself included) that may not be familiar with this type of weaving, it's helpful to see an example to better understand the photographs.

Verdict: If you are interested in the history of portraiture or of Iran, check out this small show.

There's No Place Like Home

Where: American Art Museum

When: closing August 5, 2018

The artist Do Ho Suh has lived in several places in his life; unlike most of us, he's taken those places with him when he moves and made them into art.  He has recreated hallways, doorknobs, light switches and other architectural elements from his various residences out of colored fabric.  Most of them are small enough to display on a wall, but the hallways are large enough to allow visitors to walk through them, just as you would walk through an actual apartment.

Setting aside the fact that this is different, and most of the stuff is colorful and engaging,  the show is about home.  What is a home?  Is something as utilitarian as a thermostat part of the concept of home?  What about a decorative doorknob?  Or a wall?  Or a microwave?

Each place that we live leaves an impression on us; we take something of that place with us throughout the rest of our lives.  It might be a longing to return to a place where we were happy, or a desire to get far away from a place that was unpleasant.  But even less intense residences provide us with memories, things we learned, or news we heard when we lived there, or people that we met.

Suh has said that home is an endless passageway with no fixed destination.  I'm not sure what that means exactly or that I agree with what I think it might mean.  I think if one looks back on one's life (and obviously, some of us have more to look back on than others), one can identify places that felt like "home."  One of the pieces on display is a fabric rendition of a radiator; it reminded me of my childhood home, a place that made its impression on me, for sure.

Verdict: The interactive nature of the show reminded me of installations I've seen at the Renwick.  Worth a visit - it's both attractive and thought-provoking.

Two Displays at Natural History

 When: closing July 9, 2018

How much life is contained in one cubic foot of earth or water?  Turns out the answer to this question is "a whole lot."

Scientists use something called a biocube to explore the mid-water - the part of the ocean below the surface.  The description of this area is great: it's cold, it's dark and everything is hungry.  This is not a place for humans, so they send a remotely operated vehicle to place the biocube and then watch everything that floats through it.

Sound fun?  You can make your own biocube and use it in more accessible areas.

When: closing sometime in October 2018

This is a library display in those two big cases on the ground floor.  No matter how busy the museum gets (and it gets really busy), I'm always the only person looking at those exhibits.  I feel bad for the people who clearly spend a lot of time setting them up, having had that thankless task myself in a library I once worked in.

This display is about insects - they are the most diverse group of animals on Earth and make up over two-thirds of Earth's species.  The Biodiversity Heritage Library is the largest open access digital repository of biodiversity literature in the world, and it's operated under the Smithsonian's auspices.  Scientists can use it to identify new species and track variations in species they already know about.

What I particularly liked about this display is that the open books look like butterflies - nice touch.

Verdict: Two interesting displays - if you're at the museum for one of the larger exhibits, give these a glance as well.

The People's Choice

Where: National Portrait Gallery

When: closing May 28, 2018

It's always wise to see the portrait in the RECOGNIZE space as soon as possible.  It's also the "In Memoriam" space, and famous people die all the time.

This photograph of Marc Anthony was chosen from among people turning 50 this year.  Not only is Marc Anthony 50, but ADAL, the photographer turns 70 this year.

His success marked the beginning of the Latin pop explosion, has it really been 20 years ago?

Verdict: Worth a look on your next trip.

Even Parts of Calvin and Hobbes Are Worth Seeing

Where: Hirshhorn Museum

When: closing May 28, 2018

I loved "Calvin and Hobbes."  I miss it still.  Other comics involving a young person and a pet or other companion do not compare.  The artist Tony Lewis clearly shares my feelings about the strip, as he has used it in an exhibit now showing at the Hirshhorn.

He's covered all the drawings, and erased most of the dialog, to leave only a few words, which are now poems.  Most of them are dark, which seems in contradiction to the light-hearted surface of the original comic.  I think they reveal the darkness beneath - the death and sadness and isolation that was always there.  Now you don't have to look for it.

I think some of the poems work better than others, and I found them sometimes hard to follow.  I wasn't sure in what order the words were supposed to be read, so it's possible I didn't quite get the point of all of them.

My favorite was the one I photographed for this post - about monsters.  It leaves in a big chunk of the original dialogue - "Thrashing about in a desperate bid for freedom, he only becomes more entangled!"  Love that.

I chatted with two docents about the show afterwards and discovered that the husband of one of them went to college with Bill Watterson.  To find out I'm now just three degrees of separation from him made my day.  Almost as good as actually meeting Berkeley Breathed.

Verdict: Don't miss this show if you're a C&H fan.

While I Was Walking on the Mall

Where: National Mall

Not sure how long this will be around; it may be gone already.  I was walking back from Air and Space, and wandered into this display of a  Cadillac (I think).  It's a car from WWI, the only known passenger car still remaining.  It carried Eleanor Butler Roosevelt (Theodore's daughter-in-law, not to be confused with Eleanor Roosevelt, his niece).

Interesting old car, if you go in for that sort of thing.  It's all WWI, all the time in 2018, so more pop-ups will not surprise me.

You Really Need to See the Movie First

Where: National Air and Space Museum

When: closing May 28, 2018

The title of this post could easily be: "What if They Gave a Blockbuster and Nobody Came?" but that's awfully long.  It is, however, an excellent description of this recreation of the penultimate scene in "2001: A Space Odyssey."

In checking the Smithsonian website for details of current exhibits, I saw this one required advance tickets.  Since I tend to head out when I have time, making plans can be an issue, and so it was with a grumble in my heart that I signed up for a time and headed over.

Expecting to see a long line, imagine my surprise to be greeted with...nothing.  No lines, no wait, no one checking my ticket.  I just walked right up, put on the foot covers necessary to walk into the recreation, and that was that.  I was reminded of the time I needed tickets to see an original Leonardo da Vinci notebook they had on display some years back.  Ticket in hand, I walked over to the museum, and walked right in, no muss, no fuss.  They don't seem able to judge what will be popular and what will not.

I dutifully walked around the "room" and noted all the details.  Never having seen the movie this is meant to recreate, I am in no position to say if they've done a good job or not.   And, in fact, if you've not seen the movie (and I realize I may be a minority of one here), don't bother seeing this, as the grandeur will be lost on you as well.

Verdict: If ever I watch "2001,"  I'll be in a better position to tell you what I think of this.

This is Why You Don't Want to be Too Holy

Where: National Gallery of Art, West Building

When: closing on July 8, 2018

I think even people who are not Christian, or not religious at all, know something about St. Francis of Assisi.  If nothing else, I think many people know of his association with animals.  If I remember correctly, he was part of a wealthy family, who gave up his worldly possessions (of which there were many), in order to become a monk.  What I had forgotten about is the fact that he received the stigmata, which means that the recipient bears the wounds suffered by Jesus on the cross. 

Only very true believers receive these marks, so I always made sure to be at least a little bit bad growing up, just to be on the safe side.  Now that I'm an adult, my skeptic-o-meter is turned up to 11 when it comes to stigmata, so I will make no statement about if or how St. Francis received these wounds.  True or not, the story has been the focus of artistic renditions for centuries, and some examples are currently on display at the National Gallery.

St. Francis is said to have received his stigmata after a 40-day fast at a place called La Verna.  He was accompanied by Brother Leo, who seems to have been a sort of "Sancho Panza" equivalent.  The depiction of the actual event usually involves a floating cross with rays that come down and pierce St. Francis' skin.  There are a variety of different media in use: woodcuts, paintings, drawings, and the works span several hundred years.  One common feature I noticed was the presence of a skull - a memento mori, apparently.

Verdict: i can't advise a trip solely to see these works, but if you are interested in St. Francis or depictions of religious events generally, it's worth a look if you're in the National Gallery for another show.

Painting with a Trowel

Where: National Gallery of Art (West Building, Main Floor)

When: closing July 1, 2018

In the first Cezanne show to focus on his portraiture, one cannot help but wonder how much money he spent on paint, as he applies it with such a liberal hand.  In his early career especially (which is the subject of the show's first room), one has a sense of the painter building his pieces by slathering on coat after coat.

These are by no means flattering depictions, either.  Either his subjects were singularly devoid of vanity, or they were less than happy with the end result.  Sour expressions are the order of the day.

As Cezanne progressed in his career, the brutal techniques soften a bit, but these are still not delicate pieces.  The wall notes indicate that he had "intense perceptions of the world."  The paintings seem to support that view, assuming that he was painting what he saw.

Verdict: If you like Cezanne, you should absolutely check this out.  Otherwise, I didn't dislike the show, but it didn't "wow" me either.

He Had a Dream

Where: National Portrait Gallery

When: closing April 30, 2018

It's always a good idea to see the photographs in the Honoring/Remembering space as quickly as possible, as they can change without warning.

Right now, this photograph of the Rev. Martin Luther King is on display.  It's one I've seen many times in reproduction, but I've never seen "live."  It was taken by a history teacher named James Lewis Hiller, at a meeting of high school teachers.  The meetings were segregated, and Hiller, who was white, went over to the meeting of African-American teachers, as he wanted to hear Dr. King speak.

The photograph shows Dr. King in a pensive mood, as if listening carefully to another speaker. I often think that one of the things we are sorely lacking today is an ability to listen to others.

Verdict: A great photograph - if you're in the museum for a show, take a moment to stop by and see it.

Ikats with a Friend

Where: Sackler Gallery

When: closing July 29, 2018

Usually, I go by myself to see exhibits.  I'm an introvert, so I can make my own fun just fine.  I get a nice walk to and from the venue, and I can take as long as I like in the show.  Plus, it gives me a break from work, where I spend a lot of time communicating with others.

This week, however, I took a friend with me to see the Ikats display at the Sackler.  She's a great fan of these textiles; she even wore an Ikat shirt in honor of our trip!  It was a lot of fun to go with her, and I realized I might be missing out on the insights that others bring to shows by always going alone.

Ikats are textiles made in Central Asia; they date back to the time of the Silk Road, yet are still wildly popular today.   I'd describe them as a sort of tie-dye, but this reflects my 1970s childhood and is a gross simplification.

This particular exhibit brings together some historical ikats and some ikat inspired creations by Oscar de la Renta.  The fabrics are quite large, so each room only contains a few examples, but you can get up quite close to them, to better appreciate the artistry involved.  I think my favorite pieces were a lovely de la Renta dress in a floral pattern (perfect for a summer wedding) and a carpet made of several pieces sewn together.  The notes about the carpet indicate that, "Perfection was obviously not a high priority."

Verdict: A fun show, especially if you like ikats or are interested in textiles.

Photographs of Discomfort

Where: National Gallery of Art, West Building

When: closing May 28, 2018

Apologies for the radio silence lately; I'll blame it on the weather, other lunch time obligations and an ever-burgeoning workload.

This week's sojourn was to the National Gallery, to see a large show (really too long for a lunch hour) of Sally Mann's photographs.  A native of Virginia, she photographed the American South, both its people and its landscape.  I went in expecting to see standard photography and left feeling disquieted and slightly disturbed.

The first room contains photographs of her children.  If I hadn't read the wall notes, I might have thought these were snapshots of family gatherings or the carefree days of childhood, but Mann staged these photos, sometimes shooting and re-shooting them many times until they were just right.  I don't have an issue with an artist wanting to get "the perfect shot,"  but I did feel my eyebrow rise at the thought of posing her children for these pictures, well past the point when it would have been enjoyable.

Many of her photographs are nudes of her children, and we're not talking about baby in the bathtub shots.  There was a side view of one of her daughters, aged 9, that I thought was a bit much.  She is still (all too clearly) a child, but I think that's over the line.  At 9 you have friends, classmates, neighbors etc., and I can't imagine you'd want all of those people to see you naked.  There was also one of her son, with a title something like "This was the last time Emmett posed nude in the river."  The wall notes indicate he'd been posing for a long time in the cold water, and he'd told his mother he was done.  Good for you, Emmett.

Now, I realize I don't know these people and am putting my own feelings onto them.  Perhaps they were all perfectly willing to pose in this way.  The wall notes do indicate that the children helped Mann pick out photos for her book, which seems to indicate consent.  But I couldn't help but think, "These are children.  She is their mother.  How much room do they have to protest?"

Moving on, the show transitions to her landscape photos, which I liked much better.  She traveled to Mississippi to take pictures of the area where Emmett Till was murdered.  I suppose it's a cliche to say the photos were haunting, but that's the best word I can come up with.  She also used the collodion wet plate technique to photograph the forgotten corners  of Civil War battlefields, using the technology of the era to better capture its events.

And there are photographs of the woman who cared for her when she was growing up, Virginia Carter.  We see her, and her with Mann's family and her with her own family.  There are also photographs of young African American men, not people she knew personally, but local college students who modeled for her.

Verdict: I'm not quite sure what to say about these photographs.  I think the landscapes are good, but I think the pictures of her children are borderline voyeuristic.  So I'm left with discomfort.