Where: Donald W. Reynolds Center for American Art and Portraiture, Kogod Courtyard
When: closing April 28, 2019
One of the best things about winter in Washington is the return of the orchid exhibit at the Smithsonian. In my view, there's no better location for this than the Natural History Museum. It's set in a tucked-away space, far from the more popular (and populous) exhibits, and you feel transported to a tropical paradise when you enter. I especially like to go on a day that's cold, grey and miserable, so I can enjoy the contrast all the more.
In 2017, much to my chagrin and dismay, the display was put in the lobby of the Hirshhorn. Not enough room, in the midst of the hustle and bustle of people coming and going, stuck on shelves, rather than planted in a natural looking setting - it was dreadful. This year, the display has moved to the National Portrait Gallery/SAAM, to the covered courtyard in the middle of the building.
This location is superior to the Hirshhorn in every way. Lots of room to move around and see the beautiful flowers, real displays - no horrible white shelving, and a quieter atmosphere all around. The fact that this is only a block from my office is a great benefit to myself, but obviously, it could be nearer or farther from your own place. I'll say that I still prefer the Natural History site - it's more like entering a different world, but this is so much better that I shall not quibble.
Our theme for this year's extravaganza is adaptation. Orchids make themselves at home on every continent except Antarctica (there's even some that live in the Arctic), so they are masters at survival. There are 28,000 different species, and in addition to living in soil, they also live on rocks and on other plants. They fool insects into thinking they are prey or mates, but rather than getting food or sex, the insects wander off, spreading orchid pollen as they go.
And they have different aromas: sweet smells for bees and rotting smells for flies. Happily, in this show, I only smelled pleasant scents, so some kind person decided to leave the rancid varieties off display. They come in all different shapes, sizes and colors - just like people, as the notes remind us. They also perform a vital service as a sort of "canary in the coal mine"; when they fail to thrive, it's an indication that something is wrong in the habitat.
In addition to the lovely flowers, I also enjoyed learning about the work of the Smithsonian Gardens and the U.S. Botanic Gardens. Both organizations are members of CITES, rescuing illegally imported orchids and other plants. They work around the world to preserve orchids and their habitats - this is important work, and I'm glad the shutdown is over, so the Smithsonian can get back to it.
This show is part of a year long series of displays and programs called Habitat, that will go on throughout the Smithsonian Gardens - I look forward to seeing what else in on their agenda. Fun fact: the Smithsonian Gardens Orchid Collection started in 1974 with five plants; they now have approximately 8,000 specimens.
Verdict: Don't just see this once! The flowers rotate every week, so there's always something new to see.
Saturday, February 23, 2019
Wednesday, February 20, 2019
Fifty Years of Daguerreotypes
Where: National Portrait Gallery
When: closing June 2, 2019
The National Portrait Galley collects daguerreotypes, and since they've been in existence for 50 years, they have a lot of them. When they were first made available, they were a way of democratizing portraiture, as they were much less expensive than paying an artist to paint a picture. Think of them as the selfies of the 19th century. Although it was a Frenchman, Louis-Jacques-Mande Daguerre who invented them, it was Americans who saw their potential and made them a commercial success.
The daguerreotypes on display in this small display are of famous people of the day. P.T. Barnum makes an appearance, so that makes twice I've seen him lately - he was also featured in the "Lincoln's Contemporaries" show. In addition, Robert Dale Owen is represented. He was elected to Congress in 1842 and is known for introducing the legislation that established the Smithsonian. So thanks very much Robert!
Verdict: If you are interested in 19th century portraiture, have a look.
When: closing June 2, 2019
The National Portrait Galley collects daguerreotypes, and since they've been in existence for 50 years, they have a lot of them. When they were first made available, they were a way of democratizing portraiture, as they were much less expensive than paying an artist to paint a picture. Think of them as the selfies of the 19th century. Although it was a Frenchman, Louis-Jacques-Mande Daguerre who invented them, it was Americans who saw their potential and made them a commercial success.
The daguerreotypes on display in this small display are of famous people of the day. P.T. Barnum makes an appearance, so that makes twice I've seen him lately - he was also featured in the "Lincoln's Contemporaries" show. In addition, Robert Dale Owen is represented. He was elected to Congress in 1842 and is known for introducing the legislation that established the Smithsonian. So thanks very much Robert!
Verdict: If you are interested in 19th century portraiture, have a look.
Tuesday, February 19, 2019
It Wasn't Just About Us
Where: American History Museum
When: closing July 9, 2019
I don't know about you, but the history classes I had in elementary school (and high school too, for that matter) tended to portray the American Revolution as a stand-alone event, where the underdog colonists defeated the evil British, to establish liberty and justice for all. Setting aside the fact that the liberty and justice were for a very select few, the war in North America was part of a much larger conflict, the Americans had lots of help from other nations, and the British basically gave up on keeping the colonies because they had bigger fish to fry elsewhere. Not the sort of story that would go over big on the Fourth of July, but a more realistic picture nonetheless.
The Revolution had its origins in the Seven Years' War of 1756 - 1763. In that war, the Americans were British subjects and fought with the British against the French. France lost its land claims in North America and began plotting revenge against the British.
One of the historical items on display in this show is a pistol owned by General Braddock and given to George Washington. Braddock was killed at the Battle of Monongahela (one of the major North American conflicts of the Seven Years' War), where Washington earned acclaim. This is part of the reason I'm such a museum geek - here on display is an item that actually belonged to George Washington. I hate to say it makes history come alive, because that's such a cliche, but it does make long ago events seem much more immediate.
France bided its time, and when the colonists took up arms against the British, they offered their assistance. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend" was apparently their philosophy, and it worked out for them. Britain, facing a large number of adversaries, with no allies to assist them, decided after their defeat at Yorktown to pack up and go.
Verdict: This is one of those exhibits at American History that's a bit tucked away. Take the time to seek this out, as it provides a lot of context to a story you may think you know well.
When: closing July 9, 2019
I don't know about you, but the history classes I had in elementary school (and high school too, for that matter) tended to portray the American Revolution as a stand-alone event, where the underdog colonists defeated the evil British, to establish liberty and justice for all. Setting aside the fact that the liberty and justice were for a very select few, the war in North America was part of a much larger conflict, the Americans had lots of help from other nations, and the British basically gave up on keeping the colonies because they had bigger fish to fry elsewhere. Not the sort of story that would go over big on the Fourth of July, but a more realistic picture nonetheless.
The Revolution had its origins in the Seven Years' War of 1756 - 1763. In that war, the Americans were British subjects and fought with the British against the French. France lost its land claims in North America and began plotting revenge against the British.
One of the historical items on display in this show is a pistol owned by General Braddock and given to George Washington. Braddock was killed at the Battle of Monongahela (one of the major North American conflicts of the Seven Years' War), where Washington earned acclaim. This is part of the reason I'm such a museum geek - here on display is an item that actually belonged to George Washington. I hate to say it makes history come alive, because that's such a cliche, but it does make long ago events seem much more immediate.
France bided its time, and when the colonists took up arms against the British, they offered their assistance. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend" was apparently their philosophy, and it worked out for them. Britain, facing a large number of adversaries, with no allies to assist them, decided after their defeat at Yorktown to pack up and go.
Verdict: This is one of those exhibits at American History that's a bit tucked away. Take the time to seek this out, as it provides a lot of context to a story you may think you know well.
Monday, February 18, 2019
Off We Go, Into The Wild Blue Yonder
Where: National Postal Museum
When: closing May 27, 2019
Since the trip to the Postal Museum is a long one for me, involving a Metro ride, rather than a couple of blocks of walking, I try to see several shows at once. I saw this one the same day that I took in the one on stamps with flowering plants, and it was a rather incongruous pairing. As my previous post described, the flowering stamps show was a relaxing trip into the garden, a way to retreat from winter into a philatelic springtime. The early years of air mail was a frequently lethal trip into the skies.
1918 marked the first air mail delivery in the United States. As perilous a journey as the Pony Express doubtless was, flying mail from one city to another appears to have been even more dangerous. Starting on the East Coast, on a DC - Philadelphia - New York City route, by 1920, there was a New York City - San Francisco route. Of the 200 pilots used to fly the planes, 34 were killed on the job. There was no navigation as we know it today; the pilots depended on rivers and train tracks to determine their location. In bad weather, when visibility would have been minimal, there was no way to know where you were. One of the actual planes used is on display (hanging from the ceiling), and it looks pretty rickety.
If you go to see this show, note that it's not in the Franklin Foyer, as the website indicates. It's on Level 1, in the "Networking a Nation" area.
Verdict: Probably not worth a trip all on its own (unless you're a postal history enthusiast), but if you're there anyway, give it a look.
When: closing May 27, 2019
Since the trip to the Postal Museum is a long one for me, involving a Metro ride, rather than a couple of blocks of walking, I try to see several shows at once. I saw this one the same day that I took in the one on stamps with flowering plants, and it was a rather incongruous pairing. As my previous post described, the flowering stamps show was a relaxing trip into the garden, a way to retreat from winter into a philatelic springtime. The early years of air mail was a frequently lethal trip into the skies.
1918 marked the first air mail delivery in the United States. As perilous a journey as the Pony Express doubtless was, flying mail from one city to another appears to have been even more dangerous. Starting on the East Coast, on a DC - Philadelphia - New York City route, by 1920, there was a New York City - San Francisco route. Of the 200 pilots used to fly the planes, 34 were killed on the job. There was no navigation as we know it today; the pilots depended on rivers and train tracks to determine their location. In bad weather, when visibility would have been minimal, there was no way to know where you were. One of the actual planes used is on display (hanging from the ceiling), and it looks pretty rickety.
If you go to see this show, note that it's not in the Franklin Foyer, as the website indicates. It's on Level 1, in the "Networking a Nation" area.
Verdict: Probably not worth a trip all on its own (unless you're a postal history enthusiast), but if you're there anyway, give it a look.
Sunday, February 17, 2019
Flowering Stamps
Where: National Postal Museum
When: closing July 14, 2019
I wasn't really looking forward to seeing this show; it was on my list, so I went to the Postal Museum to see it, but it wasn't with a sense of eager expectation. As it happened, I really enjoyed it. That happens sometimes, a show surprises me by being much better than I think it's going to be. It's what encourages me to go to things I would otherwise skip.
This is a display of stamps featuring flowering plants, which doesn't sound terribly exciting, but the display is so well done that you feel as if you've stepped into a garden. In fact, as you can see a bit in the photo, the Smithsonian Gardens set up a small arrangement of plants at the entrance, and there are garden benches scattered through the show.
Flower stamps are some of the most lovely in the museum's collection, and they are perennial (forgive the pun) favorites among customers. Stamps from the 1960s were the result of Lady Bird Johnson's highway beautification efforts; there have been any number of stamps featuring the cherry blossoms at the Tidal Basin (if you ever visit DC in the springtime, go to see those in person - they are stunning), and in 1992 the USPS released a series of stamps featuring wildflowers from each state.
I loved this quote from Moya Andrews, an Australian gardening expert: "I can satisfy my addiction to flowers even when I mail my bills."
Verdict: A show that provides a colorful respite from the grey days of winter.
When: closing July 14, 2019
I wasn't really looking forward to seeing this show; it was on my list, so I went to the Postal Museum to see it, but it wasn't with a sense of eager expectation. As it happened, I really enjoyed it. That happens sometimes, a show surprises me by being much better than I think it's going to be. It's what encourages me to go to things I would otherwise skip.
This is a display of stamps featuring flowering plants, which doesn't sound terribly exciting, but the display is so well done that you feel as if you've stepped into a garden. In fact, as you can see a bit in the photo, the Smithsonian Gardens set up a small arrangement of plants at the entrance, and there are garden benches scattered through the show.
Flower stamps are some of the most lovely in the museum's collection, and they are perennial (forgive the pun) favorites among customers. Stamps from the 1960s were the result of Lady Bird Johnson's highway beautification efforts; there have been any number of stamps featuring the cherry blossoms at the Tidal Basin (if you ever visit DC in the springtime, go to see those in person - they are stunning), and in 1992 the USPS released a series of stamps featuring wildflowers from each state.
I loved this quote from Moya Andrews, an Australian gardening expert: "I can satisfy my addiction to flowers even when I mail my bills."
Verdict: A show that provides a colorful respite from the grey days of winter.
Friday, February 15, 2019
Those Who Lived With Lincoln
Where: National Portrait Gallery
When: closing May 12, 2019
In 1860, the carte de visite, a photographic calling card, was all the rage. Political candidates used them to spread the word on the campaign trail, and they were inexpensive enough that lots of people could use them in social situations.
Matthew Brady, the 19th century photographer everyone knows, capitalized on this fashion and photographed everyone who was anyone in the mid-1800s. What's on display are modern prints from his original negatives.
We see politicians, artists, musicians, clergymen - even Joseph Henry, the first Secretary of the Smithsonian makes an appearance.
Verdict: If you're interested in photography or the 19th century, give this a look.
When: closing May 12, 2019
In 1860, the carte de visite, a photographic calling card, was all the rage. Political candidates used them to spread the word on the campaign trail, and they were inexpensive enough that lots of people could use them in social situations.
Matthew Brady, the 19th century photographer everyone knows, capitalized on this fashion and photographed everyone who was anyone in the mid-1800s. What's on display are modern prints from his original negatives.
We see politicians, artists, musicians, clergymen - even Joseph Henry, the first Secretary of the Smithsonian makes an appearance.
Verdict: If you're interested in photography or the 19th century, give this a look.
Thursday, February 14, 2019
One Life Becomes One Year
Where: National Portrait Gallery
When: closing May 19, 2019
The National Portrait Gallery has transformed its "One Life" space into "One Year," a look at 1968, which is now 50 years ago. So much for the "Don't trust anyone over 30" idea.
My own memories of 1968 are spotty at best. I remember Robert Kennedy's assassination, and I remember my brother being born. That's about it. Turns out, there was a lot more going on than just those two things.
1968 was one of those cataclysmic years that happen every so often. TIME magazine described it as the year "history cracked open." From turmoil at home: guns in America, police brutality, the role of protest in sports, the election of diverse candidates to public office - stop me when this sounds familiar, to space exploration: Apollo 8 and the Earthrise photograph, 1968 was a year of ups and downs.
Verdict: You don't want to miss this walk down memory lane. It's pretty groovy.
When: closing May 19, 2019
The National Portrait Gallery has transformed its "One Life" space into "One Year," a look at 1968, which is now 50 years ago. So much for the "Don't trust anyone over 30" idea.
My own memories of 1968 are spotty at best. I remember Robert Kennedy's assassination, and I remember my brother being born. That's about it. Turns out, there was a lot more going on than just those two things.
1968 was one of those cataclysmic years that happen every so often. TIME magazine described it as the year "history cracked open." From turmoil at home: guns in America, police brutality, the role of protest in sports, the election of diverse candidates to public office - stop me when this sounds familiar, to space exploration: Apollo 8 and the Earthrise photograph, 1968 was a year of ups and downs.
Verdict: You don't want to miss this walk down memory lane. It's pretty groovy.
Wednesday, February 13, 2019
Another Installment of the Renwick Invitational
Where: Renwick Gallery
When: closing May 5, 2019
I was delighted to see that the Renwick Invitational had returned - I only wish it were an annual event. It's great to see what new artists are doing - how they are pushing the boundaries between art and craft. As always, we have four artists, and I've included a photograph of each one, so this will be a bit more visual than the usual post.
Sharif Bey is a ceramicist who offers us piles of pots. I liked his portable studio, which he uses as he goes about the rest of his day, allowing him to make art anywhere. What looks like a jumble of pots on the floor is actually a representation of human heads, many of them crushed or broken, a commentary on man's inhumanity to man.
Tanya Aquiniga concentrates on community-based projects around the U.S.-Mexico border. I got to stand underneath her work Palapa - the photo is the view from inside. Her weaving is meant to represent the weaving of cultures at the border.
Stephanie Syjuco is the maker of the electric green dresses, she would have livened up the costumes for "Little Women," no doubt. Her view is that there is a relationship between how we categorize objects and how we view people. So she shakes objects up a bit.
And finally, Dustin Farnsworth works in wood, making portraits of the marginalized and disadvantaged. His particular focus is the decay that the youth of America will have to contend with - failing infrastructure for example, and the weight this places on them.
Overall, I confess I found the show a bit bleak. Doubtless, this is a reflection of the serious issues of our times, and it's all necessary. I'm not criticizing the artists for their outlook, much of which I share. But if you're looking for the knitted superhero costumes of Invitationals past (one of my favorite things ever), this is not that show.
Verdict: I recommend this exhibit, but don't go expecting whimsy.
I was delighted to see that the Renwick Invitational had returned - I only wish it were an annual event. It's great to see what new artists are doing - how they are pushing the boundaries between art and craft. As always, we have four artists, and I've included a photograph of each one, so this will be a bit more visual than the usual post.
Tanya Aquiniga concentrates on community-based projects around the U.S.-Mexico border. I got to stand underneath her work Palapa - the photo is the view from inside. Her weaving is meant to represent the weaving of cultures at the border.
Stephanie Syjuco is the maker of the electric green dresses, she would have livened up the costumes for "Little Women," no doubt. Her view is that there is a relationship between how we categorize objects and how we view people. So she shakes objects up a bit.
And finally, Dustin Farnsworth works in wood, making portraits of the marginalized and disadvantaged. His particular focus is the decay that the youth of America will have to contend with - failing infrastructure for example, and the weight this places on them.
Overall, I confess I found the show a bit bleak. Doubtless, this is a reflection of the serious issues of our times, and it's all necessary. I'm not criticizing the artists for their outlook, much of which I share. But if you're looking for the knitted superhero costumes of Invitationals past (one of my favorite things ever), this is not that show.
Tuesday, February 12, 2019
An Eyewitness to History
Where: American Art Museum
When: closing April 7, 2019
Bill Traylor saw a lot in his long life. Born into slavery in 1853, he moved in the late 1920s to segregated Montgomery, Alabama. At the end of the 1930s, when he was in his eighties and living on the street, he began to draw and paint. Over the course of about ten years, he created over 1,000 works of art.
I was struck by the certainty expressed in the wall notes for this show. It could well be that, as the curators posit, these are depictions of his life, both the times he remembered in the country and the times he was experiencing in the city. But how do we know that? He's not here to tell us, and I saw no references to writings or interviews in which Traylor explained his work.
Traylor's perspective is often that of someone looking up at events. People are depicted on the roofs of houses, or balanced on something above the viewer's natural sightline. Might this be because his memories of country life include his childhood and this is a child's perspective? Or might he be sitting on the street in Montgomery, watching people go by above him? Possibly.
Drinking plays a large part in much of Traylor's work. It seems to indicate a loss of control, a cause of people acting out their emotions in wild ways. What I'm uncertain about is whether this is meant to be good or bad. Is this a teetotaler showing the evils of demon drink? Is this a cry for people to act against terrible circumstances? I don't know.
Verdict: This is a fine show of an artist that offers much food for thought. I'm certain he's communicating something in his works, but I'm not sure what it is. I recommend you see this and judge for yourself.
When: closing April 7, 2019
Bill Traylor saw a lot in his long life. Born into slavery in 1853, he moved in the late 1920s to segregated Montgomery, Alabama. At the end of the 1930s, when he was in his eighties and living on the street, he began to draw and paint. Over the course of about ten years, he created over 1,000 works of art.
I was struck by the certainty expressed in the wall notes for this show. It could well be that, as the curators posit, these are depictions of his life, both the times he remembered in the country and the times he was experiencing in the city. But how do we know that? He's not here to tell us, and I saw no references to writings or interviews in which Traylor explained his work.
Traylor's perspective is often that of someone looking up at events. People are depicted on the roofs of houses, or balanced on something above the viewer's natural sightline. Might this be because his memories of country life include his childhood and this is a child's perspective? Or might he be sitting on the street in Montgomery, watching people go by above him? Possibly.
Drinking plays a large part in much of Traylor's work. It seems to indicate a loss of control, a cause of people acting out their emotions in wild ways. What I'm uncertain about is whether this is meant to be good or bad. Is this a teetotaler showing the evils of demon drink? Is this a cry for people to act against terrible circumstances? I don't know.
Verdict: This is a fine show of an artist that offers much food for thought. I'm certain he's communicating something in his works, but I'm not sure what it is. I recommend you see this and judge for yourself.
Monday, February 11, 2019
Bringing the Silhouette Out of the Shadows
Where: National Portrait Gallery
When: closing March 10, 2019
Last week, I saw a lot of things at the National Gallery, this week it was back and forth to the National Portrait Gallery/American Art Museum. The first show I saw was one on silhouettes, an art form I'd given very little thought before now.
One of the difficulties facing the National Portrait Gallery is that so much of their collection consists of images of white men. That's not their fault, white men were the people who held high office, owned the land and had the money to commission portraits of themselves for most of this country's history. However, I've noticed that the NPG has tried very hard to add portraits that more completely reflect America as it is today, and America as it has always been - a nation of many different kinds of people. This show of silhouettes might strike you as monochromatic, but nothing could be further from the truth.
Don't be fooled by the apparently simplicity of silhouettes; there's a lot more going on in these representation than you'd think at first glance. The silhouette contained in "Flora: Bill of Sale" is one of the earliest known representations of an enslaved person. Martha Ann Honeywell, a silhouette artist was not only a woman, she was also born with no hands or forearms and only one foot. Nonetheless, she curt silhouettes, wrote verse and sculpted waxworks. If she were alive today, she'd surely be featured in the Smithsonian's exhibit of works by artists with disabilities. Moses Williams, an enslaved young person, was not only the subject of a silhouette by Charles Willson Peale, he was also quite gifted at the art of silhouette himself.
But it's not only historic pieces on display in this show. Four modern-day artists working with silhouettes are featured also. Kara Walker, whose work I've seen before at American Art, has a room full of depictions of violence towards African-Americans in silhouette. Kristi Malakoff has constructed a silhouette maypole, a sort of intersection of silhouette and sculpture. I loved the little birds flying above the action below. Camille Utterback invites the visitor to create a silhouette by moving around her room; it seems odd at first but is actually kind of fun.
My favorite was Kumi Yamashita's room. She folds paper and projects a light onto it to make a silhouette shadow on the wall. It's hard to describe but really impressive. Reading the wall notes, I was reminded of her incredible work from the Outwin competition - a portrait of her niece made of one continuous piece of thread wound around innumerable brads on a piece of wood. Just stunning.
Verdict: Very interesting combination of old and new silhouettes - well worth a visit.
When: closing March 10, 2019
Last week, I saw a lot of things at the National Gallery, this week it was back and forth to the National Portrait Gallery/American Art Museum. The first show I saw was one on silhouettes, an art form I'd given very little thought before now.
One of the difficulties facing the National Portrait Gallery is that so much of their collection consists of images of white men. That's not their fault, white men were the people who held high office, owned the land and had the money to commission portraits of themselves for most of this country's history. However, I've noticed that the NPG has tried very hard to add portraits that more completely reflect America as it is today, and America as it has always been - a nation of many different kinds of people. This show of silhouettes might strike you as monochromatic, but nothing could be further from the truth.
Don't be fooled by the apparently simplicity of silhouettes; there's a lot more going on in these representation than you'd think at first glance. The silhouette contained in "Flora: Bill of Sale" is one of the earliest known representations of an enslaved person. Martha Ann Honeywell, a silhouette artist was not only a woman, she was also born with no hands or forearms and only one foot. Nonetheless, she curt silhouettes, wrote verse and sculpted waxworks. If she were alive today, she'd surely be featured in the Smithsonian's exhibit of works by artists with disabilities. Moses Williams, an enslaved young person, was not only the subject of a silhouette by Charles Willson Peale, he was also quite gifted at the art of silhouette himself.
But it's not only historic pieces on display in this show. Four modern-day artists working with silhouettes are featured also. Kara Walker, whose work I've seen before at American Art, has a room full of depictions of violence towards African-Americans in silhouette. Kristi Malakoff has constructed a silhouette maypole, a sort of intersection of silhouette and sculpture. I loved the little birds flying above the action below. Camille Utterback invites the visitor to create a silhouette by moving around her room; it seems odd at first but is actually kind of fun.
My favorite was Kumi Yamashita's room. She folds paper and projects a light onto it to make a silhouette shadow on the wall. It's hard to describe but really impressive. Reading the wall notes, I was reminded of her incredible work from the Outwin competition - a portrait of her niece made of one continuous piece of thread wound around innumerable brads on a piece of wood. Just stunning.
Verdict: Very interesting combination of old and new silhouettes - well worth a visit.
Sunday, February 10, 2019
Not Sure What I'm Looking At Here
Where: National Gallery of Art Library, East Building
When: closing April 12, 2019
This library display contains selections from the Evans-Tibbs Archive of African American Art. The pieces are interesting and give the viewer an insight into the art world as experienced by African Americans in the late 20th century. I particularly liked reading about Mr. Imagination, whose work has a lot in common with the tinfoil sculpture at the American Art Museum - my favorite Smithsonian object. And now I know about Howardena Pindell, who railed against the lack of diversity in gallery and museum exhibits. The Guerrilla Girls carry on her important work today.
My beef is that there's no explanation at the show itself of who Tibbs was or why his collection is important or how it came to the National Gallery. You can learn about it online, but a couple of paragraphs at the display would have been helpful.
Verdict: If you are thinking of seeking out exhibits about African American history this February, put this on your list. But look at the website before you go.
When: closing April 12, 2019
This library display contains selections from the Evans-Tibbs Archive of African American Art. The pieces are interesting and give the viewer an insight into the art world as experienced by African Americans in the late 20th century. I particularly liked reading about Mr. Imagination, whose work has a lot in common with the tinfoil sculpture at the American Art Museum - my favorite Smithsonian object. And now I know about Howardena Pindell, who railed against the lack of diversity in gallery and museum exhibits. The Guerrilla Girls carry on her important work today.
My beef is that there's no explanation at the show itself of who Tibbs was or why his collection is important or how it came to the National Gallery. You can learn about it online, but a couple of paragraphs at the display would have been helpful.
Verdict: If you are thinking of seeking out exhibits about African American history this February, put this on your list. But look at the website before you go.
Saturday, February 9, 2019
A Moving Small Show
Where: National Gallery of Art, West Building
When: closing April 21, 2019
In 2005, the photographer Dawoud Bey traveled to Birmingham, Alabama to see if he could create a work to commemorate the 1963 bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church. He spent a lot of time in Birmingham, getting to know many people there.
In 2012, he created a series of paired portraits. In each pair, there is a young person, the same age as the children who were murdered (either in the bombing itself or in the violence that raged afterwards) and a person the same age as those children would be now, had they lived.
His goal was to make the victims less of an abstraction and reveal their humanity. Because it's a lot harder to look away from actual human suffering than it is to look away from statistics.
In the second room is a video he created that is also in two parts. One is a drive through Birmingham in a car, with the camera placed at a child's viewpoint. The other is a camera moving through various locations: a lunch counter, a barbershop. The music, composed by Bey's son, is haunting.
Verdict: This is a very small show - only two rooms, but it's a show worth seeing.
When: closing April 21, 2019
In 2005, the photographer Dawoud Bey traveled to Birmingham, Alabama to see if he could create a work to commemorate the 1963 bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church. He spent a lot of time in Birmingham, getting to know many people there.
In 2012, he created a series of paired portraits. In each pair, there is a young person, the same age as the children who were murdered (either in the bombing itself or in the violence that raged afterwards) and a person the same age as those children would be now, had they lived.
His goal was to make the victims less of an abstraction and reveal their humanity. Because it's a lot harder to look away from actual human suffering than it is to look away from statistics.
In the second room is a video he created that is also in two parts. One is a drive through Birmingham in a car, with the camera placed at a child's viewpoint. The other is a camera moving through various locations: a lunch counter, a barbershop. The music, composed by Bey's son, is haunting.
Verdict: This is a very small show - only two rooms, but it's a show worth seeing.
Friday, February 8, 2019
Riding the Coattails of the Musical
Where: Postal Museum
When: closing March 3, 2019
When I go to the Postal Museum, it's a long enough trip that I try to see more than one exhibit. In addition to the John Lennon stamp album, I was able to see this show about Alexander Hamilton and the mail.
There are letters to and from Hamilton and stamps depicting him. The Post Office started as a part of the Treasury Department (new fun fact!), much to the chagrin of Thomas Jefferson. Hamilton and his regard for a powerful central government fell out of favor after his untimely death, but the Civil War revived his reputation, as the idea of the U.S. as a small agrarian country gave way to a larger, more industrial nation.
My only complaint with this show is that the pistols used in the duel between Aaron Burr and Hamilton were on display when the show opened, but only until mid-September. If I had known I could have seen these artifacts, I would have gone sooner! Clearly, I need to read the descriptions of exhibitions at the Smithsonian website more carefully, but shouldn't this sort of information be displayed more prominently? I'm pretty sure this would have been a major draw to a museum that I've never seen crowded.
Verdict: If you like Hamilton, or are interested in early American history generally, check this out. Without the pistols, I can't say this is of general interest.
When: closing March 3, 2019
When I go to the Postal Museum, it's a long enough trip that I try to see more than one exhibit. In addition to the John Lennon stamp album, I was able to see this show about Alexander Hamilton and the mail.
There are letters to and from Hamilton and stamps depicting him. The Post Office started as a part of the Treasury Department (new fun fact!), much to the chagrin of Thomas Jefferson. Hamilton and his regard for a powerful central government fell out of favor after his untimely death, but the Civil War revived his reputation, as the idea of the U.S. as a small agrarian country gave way to a larger, more industrial nation.
My only complaint with this show is that the pistols used in the duel between Aaron Burr and Hamilton were on display when the show opened, but only until mid-September. If I had known I could have seen these artifacts, I would have gone sooner! Clearly, I need to read the descriptions of exhibitions at the Smithsonian website more carefully, but shouldn't this sort of information be displayed more prominently? I'm pretty sure this would have been a major draw to a museum that I've never seen crowded.
Verdict: If you like Hamilton, or are interested in early American history generally, check this out. Without the pistols, I can't say this is of general interest.
Thursday, February 7, 2019
This is Not the White Album
Where: Postal Museum
When: closing February 3, 2019
If you're a fan of John Lennon, I hope you were able to see his boyhood stamp album at the Postal Museum. A cousin of his interested him in stamps and gave him this little green book. Lennon became an enthusiast and traded stamps back and forth to improve his collection. The album contains over 550 stamps, including many from New Zealand where some relatives lived.
The display was timed to coincide with the release of the John Lennon stamp, which came out last fall. I think the USPS is hoping that young people will think anything Lennon did was "cool" and take up stamp collecting themselves, but I have my doubts.
Verdict: If you love the Beatles, have a look.
When: closing February 3, 2019
If you're a fan of John Lennon, I hope you were able to see his boyhood stamp album at the Postal Museum. A cousin of his interested him in stamps and gave him this little green book. Lennon became an enthusiast and traded stamps back and forth to improve his collection. The album contains over 550 stamps, including many from New Zealand where some relatives lived.
The display was timed to coincide with the release of the John Lennon stamp, which came out last fall. I think the USPS is hoping that young people will think anything Lennon did was "cool" and take up stamp collecting themselves, but I have my doubts.
Verdict: If you love the Beatles, have a look.
Wednesday, February 6, 2019
Something Great at the Hirshhorn
Where: Hirshhorn Museum
When: closing April 28, 2019
It's possible I've posted two laudatory Hirshhorn write-ups back to back before, but I'm going to guess this is the first time ever. As long-time readers know, I usually can't say enough bad things about the brutalist nightmare that is the Smithsonian's collection of modern art, but I'm telling you, they've got themselves something great on now, and you need to run right out and see it.
It's called "Pulse," and the artist is Rafael Lozano-Hemmer. He sets up installations that are powered by the pulse (hence the name) of you, the viewer. You put your finger or your palm on a little gizmo (technical term), and lights flicker or water moves in time to your heartbeat. I could discuss the interplay of art and technology, or I could place Lozano-Hemmer in a long line of artists who have used the human heart in their work, but I'm willing to bet someone else will do that.
What I'm going to tell you is to go to this show because it's fun. This show is literally what you make it. The final room has not only flickering lights but a "soundtrack" of heartbeats - I was transported back to a childhood trip to the Franklin Institute, walking through their model of the human heart.
Verdict: In all of the chaos that is DC at this moment, sometimes, you just need to have a good time. If you have a heartbeat, this show is for you.
When: closing April 28, 2019
It's possible I've posted two laudatory Hirshhorn write-ups back to back before, but I'm going to guess this is the first time ever. As long-time readers know, I usually can't say enough bad things about the brutalist nightmare that is the Smithsonian's collection of modern art, but I'm telling you, they've got themselves something great on now, and you need to run right out and see it.
It's called "Pulse," and the artist is Rafael Lozano-Hemmer. He sets up installations that are powered by the pulse (hence the name) of you, the viewer. You put your finger or your palm on a little gizmo (technical term), and lights flicker or water moves in time to your heartbeat. I could discuss the interplay of art and technology, or I could place Lozano-Hemmer in a long line of artists who have used the human heart in their work, but I'm willing to bet someone else will do that.
What I'm going to tell you is to go to this show because it's fun. This show is literally what you make it. The final room has not only flickering lights but a "soundtrack" of heartbeats - I was transported back to a childhood trip to the Franklin Institute, walking through their model of the human heart.
Verdict: In all of the chaos that is DC at this moment, sometimes, you just need to have a good time. If you have a heartbeat, this show is for you.
Tuesday, February 5, 2019
A Hirshhorn Show I Didn't Hate!
Where: Hirshhorn Museum
When: closing February 3, 2019
Every so often, I go to see a show thinking, "I'm not going to like this." Many times, especially when I'm headed to the Hirshhorn, my thought is correct! Ugliness abounds at the concrete donut, as we know. Sometimes though, my thought is not correct, and I'm pleasantly surprised. This post is about one of those times.
Although I'd never heard of Sean Scully before, the wall notes tell me that he is one of the most influential painters of our age and at the center of abstract painting. Shows how much I know.
The works on display here are bars of color, meant to represent the horizon over water - the landline of the show's title. Ordinarily, anything smacking of monochromes or blocks of solid color gets the big eye-roll from me, but these I liked. Many of the works are oil on aluminum, which lends them a bit of a sheen that appealed to me. There are also oils on copper, which have a red hue to them. There was one with shades of blue that I particularly liked; I'll even go so far as to say I'd put it in my house!
Verdict: This show will have closed by the time this posts, so I hope you were able to see it!
When: closing February 3, 2019
Every so often, I go to see a show thinking, "I'm not going to like this." Many times, especially when I'm headed to the Hirshhorn, my thought is correct! Ugliness abounds at the concrete donut, as we know. Sometimes though, my thought is not correct, and I'm pleasantly surprised. This post is about one of those times.
Although I'd never heard of Sean Scully before, the wall notes tell me that he is one of the most influential painters of our age and at the center of abstract painting. Shows how much I know.
The works on display here are bars of color, meant to represent the horizon over water - the landline of the show's title. Ordinarily, anything smacking of monochromes or blocks of solid color gets the big eye-roll from me, but these I liked. Many of the works are oil on aluminum, which lends them a bit of a sheen that appealed to me. There are also oils on copper, which have a red hue to them. There was one with shades of blue that I particularly liked; I'll even go so far as to say I'd put it in my house!
Verdict: This show will have closed by the time this posts, so I hope you were able to see it!
Monday, February 4, 2019
Medical Care is One of Those Things That Keeps Getting Better
Where: American History Museum
When: closing February 3, 2019
When I think of the great march of human history, three things seem to get better and better as we move along: transportation, communication and medicine. This small display in one of the cabinets of the American History Museum shows what medical care was like during World War I, and how the conflict provided an opportunity to test out new advances.
Granted, there were certainly major strides made during the war in the treatment of injuries and the development of prosthetics, but I'm really glad I'm living now and not then. Of course, someone 100 years from now will think the same thing about the early 21st century, so there's that to consider.
This display also highlights the work of female medical workers in the war, and how they were not considered "real" veterans - something I had learned about at the Postal Museum's show on their work. Considering the horrible conditions these women endured to provide medical care to soldiers, it's ludicrous that they were so often denied recognition.
Verdict: Another interesting little display to see if you're at the museum.
When: closing February 3, 2019
When I think of the great march of human history, three things seem to get better and better as we move along: transportation, communication and medicine. This small display in one of the cabinets of the American History Museum shows what medical care was like during World War I, and how the conflict provided an opportunity to test out new advances.
Granted, there were certainly major strides made during the war in the treatment of injuries and the development of prosthetics, but I'm really glad I'm living now and not then. Of course, someone 100 years from now will think the same thing about the early 21st century, so there's that to consider.
This display also highlights the work of female medical workers in the war, and how they were not considered "real" veterans - something I had learned about at the Postal Museum's show on their work. Considering the horrible conditions these women endured to provide medical care to soldiers, it's ludicrous that they were so often denied recognition.
Verdict: Another interesting little display to see if you're at the museum.
Sunday, February 3, 2019
You Can Use Advertising for Anything
Where: American History Museum
When: closing February 6, 2019
The American History Museum has large glass-fronted cabinets in the middle of the first floor, as you enter the building from Constitution Avenue. They contain small displays of objects that change from time to time. I think of them as giving you a "flavor" of the museum. Right now, the Smithsonian is winding up its shows on World War I, which ended 100 years ago last November. "Advertising War" tells the story of how Americans, who had a strongly hands-off view of the European conflict, were convinced to enter WWI.
Propaganda learned from commercial advertising - you play on people's emotions and tell them what to do. Works for soap; works for war. Enemies were depicted as dark and ape-like, preying on vulnerable light-skinned women. Interestingly enough, women were also depicted as strong workers who could contribute to the war effort. So they could take over the farm, but had to be protected from danger. Who says advertising has to be consistent?
Verdict: Give this a glance if you're at American History in the next few days - we can all use a reminder to turn a skeptical eye towards those who want to sell us something.
When: closing February 6, 2019
The American History Museum has large glass-fronted cabinets in the middle of the first floor, as you enter the building from Constitution Avenue. They contain small displays of objects that change from time to time. I think of them as giving you a "flavor" of the museum. Right now, the Smithsonian is winding up its shows on World War I, which ended 100 years ago last November. "Advertising War" tells the story of how Americans, who had a strongly hands-off view of the European conflict, were convinced to enter WWI.
Propaganda learned from commercial advertising - you play on people's emotions and tell them what to do. Works for soap; works for war. Enemies were depicted as dark and ape-like, preying on vulnerable light-skinned women. Interestingly enough, women were also depicted as strong workers who could contribute to the war effort. So they could take over the farm, but had to be protected from danger. Who says advertising has to be consistent?
Verdict: Give this a glance if you're at American History in the next few days - we can all use a reminder to turn a skeptical eye towards those who want to sell us something.
Saturday, February 2, 2019
And...We're Back!
Where: American History Museum
When: closing March 5, 2019
So, as I type this, the longest government shutdown in U.S. history is over, and the Smithsonian and National Gallery of Art are open. I went to see nine shows in four days, as the possibility exists that we could be right back in the soup by mid-February. So frustrating! I really hope the government stays open, because when there's a shutdown, innocent people suffer. Plus, it actually costs us more money to close the government than to keep it open. I'm really fuming over this, as you, dear reader, can doubtless tell.
But, while I have the largest museum complex in the world (and the National Gallery) available to me, I intend to make the most of them. I've seen everything currently closing in February and am making headway into March. If, in the next two weeks, I can get to all the shows closing before June, I'll feel pretty comfortable. Will I be able to do it? Stay tuned friends!
My first stop on my "welcome back tour" was American History. My favorite museum when I was a child on class trips, I still love this place, as much for its small tucked away shows as for its "big ticket" displays. I went to the Small Documents Gallery (which is named after the Smalls, who I'm assuming are donors, not for its size) to see a show on the Japanese internment camps. An excellent display on a serious topic, the exhibit started by explaining the anti-Asian prejudice that has existed in America since at least the late 1800s. Frankly, I was reminded of the current climate, as I read about fears of a "yellow horde" taking over the country.
After the attack on Pearl Harbor, that fear turned into hysteria, and off went over 100,000 people to internment camps, losing their homes, their businesses and most of their possessions. Even Dr. Seuss, who I had always thought of as a person urging tolerance, drew an anti-Japanese cartoon - shameful.
Amazingly enough, there were many young people of Japanese descent who served in the U.S. armed forces during the war, despite the fact that the families they left behind were incarcerated. Being forced to live in primitive conditions was difficult, and it is a testament to the resilience of the Japanese-Americans in this situation that they created the art they did, formed the schools they did and fought for their rights after their release as they did.
Because the display doesn't end with the war. It goes on to show the work that was done afterwards to get the government to acknowledge the wrong that was done. President Ford rescinded Executive Order 9066, which created the internment camps; President Carter established a commission to issue a report on what should be done about the incarceration, and President Reagan signed a law admitting the wrong and issuing reparations to survivors. A dear friend of mine who was born in an internment camp received one of those checks.
Verdict: Really fine display of a story that needs telling, especially when certain groups are demonized as scapegoats for our nation's problems.
When: closing March 5, 2019
So, as I type this, the longest government shutdown in U.S. history is over, and the Smithsonian and National Gallery of Art are open. I went to see nine shows in four days, as the possibility exists that we could be right back in the soup by mid-February. So frustrating! I really hope the government stays open, because when there's a shutdown, innocent people suffer. Plus, it actually costs us more money to close the government than to keep it open. I'm really fuming over this, as you, dear reader, can doubtless tell.
But, while I have the largest museum complex in the world (and the National Gallery) available to me, I intend to make the most of them. I've seen everything currently closing in February and am making headway into March. If, in the next two weeks, I can get to all the shows closing before June, I'll feel pretty comfortable. Will I be able to do it? Stay tuned friends!
My first stop on my "welcome back tour" was American History. My favorite museum when I was a child on class trips, I still love this place, as much for its small tucked away shows as for its "big ticket" displays. I went to the Small Documents Gallery (which is named after the Smalls, who I'm assuming are donors, not for its size) to see a show on the Japanese internment camps. An excellent display on a serious topic, the exhibit started by explaining the anti-Asian prejudice that has existed in America since at least the late 1800s. Frankly, I was reminded of the current climate, as I read about fears of a "yellow horde" taking over the country.
After the attack on Pearl Harbor, that fear turned into hysteria, and off went over 100,000 people to internment camps, losing their homes, their businesses and most of their possessions. Even Dr. Seuss, who I had always thought of as a person urging tolerance, drew an anti-Japanese cartoon - shameful.
Amazingly enough, there were many young people of Japanese descent who served in the U.S. armed forces during the war, despite the fact that the families they left behind were incarcerated. Being forced to live in primitive conditions was difficult, and it is a testament to the resilience of the Japanese-Americans in this situation that they created the art they did, formed the schools they did and fought for their rights after their release as they did.
Because the display doesn't end with the war. It goes on to show the work that was done afterwards to get the government to acknowledge the wrong that was done. President Ford rescinded Executive Order 9066, which created the internment camps; President Carter established a commission to issue a report on what should be done about the incarceration, and President Reagan signed a law admitting the wrong and issuing reparations to survivors. A dear friend of mine who was born in an internment camp received one of those checks.
Verdict: Really fine display of a story that needs telling, especially when certain groups are demonized as scapegoats for our nation's problems.
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