Architects' Greatest Crime

Where: Hirshhorn Museum

When: closing September 8, 2019

This somber display closes tomorrow, so if you want to see it, you'll need to hurry.  It's contained inside the "What Absence is Made Of" show on the 2nd floor, so you'll need to walk through some nonsense to see it, I'm afraid.  It's worth it, though, so make the effort.

It's a visual installation that presents the evidence collected to prove that Auschwitz was a mechanism for mass murder.  This was not merely a camp to hold people against their will (although that would be bad enough); this was a place designed by architects to end people's lives in as efficient a way as possible.

The entire installation is white, which I found made it hard to understand the documents that line the room.  What really made the piece real to me was the video at the end that explains the decisions the architects made to ensure as many people were killed in as short a time as possible.

Verdict: In a time when Holocaust denial is making a comeback, this is an important statement of facts.

Have No Fear

Where: Hirshhorn Museum

When: closing July 24, 2019

This show is a combination of Thai cooking (the title is a reference both to Thai political groups and to types of curry) and protest art.  Since this would have been the first food/art combination I've visited, I was disappointed that the food part wasn't in operation when I turned up.  Perhaps I was there too early; I went at noon.  It's also possible the food portion isn't operating every day.  Whatever the timing issues, I was left with only the art.

The first room, the one with the cooking stations, have drawings of protesters and political situations on the walls.  And when I say "on the walls," I mean directly painted on the walls - not hung in frames.  In fact, two people were working on more drawings as I walked around.  I noticed lots of U.S. imagery, as well as pictures that I am assuming were from Thai news stories.  So, if you go, don't worry that you won't understand any of the art.

The second and third rooms contained videos - a series of documentary shorts that I believe are shown on a rotating basis.  I didn't have a very strong reaction to either of them, as I can't remember much about them now...

Verdict: Since the point of this exhibit is to combine food and art, I feel as if I missed a lot by not scheduling my visit for the curry service.  Check the website to see when the food will be available!

Whole Lot of Groaning Going On

Where: Hirshhorn Museum

When: closing September 2, 2019

This is one of those weird Hirshhorn exhibits that I just don't understand.  According to the wall notes, Enrico David's work is an exploration of the human form through a variety of techniques.  And I suppose that's true.  The figures are generally human or human-like, and he does use a variety of different methods in his work.  So far, so good.  My problem is that I'm just not feeling anything when I look at this stuff, and (again, according to the wall notes) I'm meant to feel empathy.

Many of the works are of people grimacing, as if in physical pain or in some sort of horrible existential angst.  And that would move me to pity, if they were actual living beings, but they're not, so it just seems gruesome.

The first piece is a revolving set of wooden figures, and they reminded me of the Beatles (their hair is moptop-ish, and I'm guessing that's why).  As I stood there, others came into the space and also mentioned the Beatles, so it wasn't just me.  They just turn around on a small platform, so they're not awful.  The woman pictured here in the pink and black twist doesn't appear miserable either, so again, not awful.

Most of the rest of it is a big silent wail.  Yeesh, the best thing I can say is that it's in the inner ring of the 2nd floor, so it's smaller than an outer ring show.  Oh, and did I mention that most of the works are "Untitled" - sigh.

Verdict: If you like looking at misery, run right over.  Otherwise, feel free to walk on by.

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. 

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!

Just Not Feeling It

Where: Hirshhorn Museum

When: closing January 27, 2019*

Usually, I go to the Hirshhorn and hate whatever I see.  Not always, but usually.  I was actually sort of looking forward to the Charline Von Heyl show, believe it or not.  She's only a few years older than I am, and I'm interested in what my contemporaries are doing in the art world.  This is her largest museum show to date in the United States, and I liked the idea of being part of that.  But, you know what?  My reaction to her work was "meh."  I didn't love it; I didn't hate it; I just had no reaction at all.

At first, I was intrigued by her work "Melencolia," as the wall notes tell me it's inspired by Durer (and I really like Durer).  But as I looked at her piece, I could find no connection.  It could have been inspired by anyone.

There were a lot of people there, much more than usual at the concrete dount.  The week between Christmas and New Year's is like that on the Mall.  And that crowd of people seemed to be connecting to her work.  I saw no rolling eyeballs, no children making negative comments, no shrugged shoulders.  So I guess it's just me.

Granted, modern American/European art is not my favorite.  But her stuff just left me shaking my head and thinking, "What is this?  I don't get it."  It wasn't that I didn't like it; it was that I was confused by it.

Verdict: I can't really recommend this based on my own experience, but others seemed to take to it.

*Due to the government shutdown, the Smithsonian is currently closed.

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!

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.

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.

Is This Really So Much Worse Than The Usual Hirshhorn Show?

Where: Hirshhorn Museum

When: closing May 13, 2018

This show is a survey of New York art from the 1980s.  It shows artists engaging with the topic of commercialism in American society, and overall, they take a dim view of that.  When I saw this was open, I made plans to see it, feeling my usual lack of interest in another of the Hirshhorn's Bataan Death March shows (those that take up the entire 2nd floor, and make you think you'll never get to the end of them).

Then, I read Philip Kennicott's scathing review of the show in the Post.  (Note: you may need to subscribe to see this; since I do pony up the $$ to have access, I'm never sure what's free and what isn't.)  He thinks the show is crass and the art on display ugly.  "Well," I thought to myself, "how would that be different from any other Hirshhorn show?"  'Cause if you want to see ugly art, the Hirshhorn is your destination.

So, I decided to take a different approach to this show; rather than go and see if I like the art or not, I decided I would go to see if this art was so awful that it would stand out from the usual offerings at the concrete donut.  My opinion: it's the usual collection of dreadful stuff.

I will say, not all of it is bad.  I really like Barbara Kruger's pieces, and having her words plastered all over the escalators gives me something to appreciate every time I come.  I was glad to see more of her work.  I also liked Donald Moffett's images of Ronald Reagan entitled "He Kills Me."  The AIDS related art really brought back that time period, not a pleasant experience, obviously, but quite effective.

The rest of it?  Ludicrous.  We had a can of AJAX on a wooden shelf, a rug shampooer hanging in front of a fluorescent light and something called "Untitled Furniture Sculpture" by Ken Lum.  It was literally couches, tables and lamps in a square - like you would see in a furniture store.  I could understand if these objects were all made of plaster; then they would be actual sculptures.  But they're not.  It's furniture.  If this is art, then so is the display at IKEA.

Verdict: The Hirshhorn's usual nonsense, with a few exceptions; not worth the walk around the building, unless you need to hit your 10,000 steps for the day.

Yet More Videos

Where: Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden

When: closing April 22, 2018

No matter how dreadful the rest of the Hirshhorn may be, the videos are always worth a look.  The current show, "The Message: New Media Works" just proves this point.

Each film is intriguing, but the two I liked best were "Grosse Fatigue" which was filmed in the Smithsonian Archives - oh, the things they have, stacks and stacks full of things, and "How to Not be Seen."

The latter is a serious examination of the surveillance state and the lengths one has to go to not be seen by it.  I know I should have walked away, shaken and horrified, but the sound track is The Three Degrees singing, "When Will I See You Again."  So I lip-synced and toe-tapped my way through the video, withe a smile on my face.  I'm not sure if that's a mistake on the author's part, or a demonstration of my lack of depth and seriousness.

Verdict: Yet another fine film offering - allow plenty of time if you wish to see all of these in their entirety.

Worlds in Miniature

Where: Hirshhorn Museum

When: closing March 4, 2018

Yes, I'm seeing exhibits that won't close until March.  I think this is because there haven't been as many shows up this year, what with the Freer and Sackler galleries closed.

Also, I'm trying to see as much as I can before a potential government shutdown at the end of the month.  Congress agreed to funding that avoided having to shutter the Smithsonian (and the rest of the government too) as of yesterday, but legislation runs out in a couple of weeks.  <sigh> The thought of having to live with the current political situation without my beloved art and cultural escape is not pleasant.

Oh well, perhaps we will be spared this unpalatable fate, and right now, the lights are still on.  So what about this show at the Hirshhorn?

These are models for large installations by a Russian-born American couple; some of them have been realized and others have not.  The one I chose for the blog picture is one that, sadly, as not been realized.  It was intended either for the Bank of Seattle or the Library.  Having visited the Seattle Public Library several years ago, I can say it would have fit right in with the other art on display there.

Although nothing was wrapped, I was reminded of Christo, as I walked around the 2nd floor of the Hirshhorn, looking at these ideas for public art.  Perhaps it's because this all seems a bit mad?  Or because it's meant to be on such a large scale?

Verdict: Worth a look, especially if you're in the museum for the Ai Weiwei show, or to see the Pickett's Charge installation.

Party Time at the Hirshhorn

Where: Hirshhorn Museum

When: through October 1, 2017

Today's the last day for this show I really liked (imagine!) at the Hirshhorn.  It wraps around the 3rd floor inner circle of the concrete donut (which I found out today has an official nickname of the Brutalist Donut).

I love the vibrant colors and depictions of nature at the beginning and end of the day.  I walked around to look at the whole thing and was surprised how quickly I made the trip - sort of the opposite of one of their Bataan Death March exhibits.

Obama's remark after the 2016 election, that no matter what happened, the sun would rise in the morning was the inspiration for the work, which was created specifically for this space.

Verdict: Worth a look, if you're on the Mall today.

Yet Another Trip to the Hirshhorn

Where: Hirshhorn Museum & Sculpture Garden

When: closing dates throughout September 2017

There are times throughout the year when there seem to be so many exhibits closing so soon that I can hardly make time to see them all.  Right now is one of those times.  I usually set aside two days per week to visit museums, but lately, I've had to increase my attendance at the Smithsonian and National Gallery.  My yoga practice has suffered, I'm sorry to say, and I'll be glad when things settle down a bit.  Of course, this is a great (First World) problem to have.

One of the museums that's got lots of shows closing in September is the concrete donut.  In addition to the Yoko One pieces, there's also a "Masterworks" show and an exhibit of Markus Lupertz works.

I went over to the museum I love to hate on Tuesday and saw a Yoko One item I hadn't seen with my niece when we visited last week.  It was called Sky TV, and that's exactly what this is.  It's a TV set showing the sky.  The wall notes tell me Ono got the idea for this when she lived in a windowless apartment in New York City and longed to see the sky.  It occurs to me that, if you're seeing this in a museum, you've been outside and been able to see the sky "live," so perhaps this isn't the best way to show it.  Maybe it should be something you could see on your own TV, like the fireplace log burning that they show on TV on Christmas Day?  Or something you could stream on your computer?

I also saw the "Masterworks" show, which I think I've seen before.  "Big Man" was out front, with his baleful stare.  Hard to say he's welcoming you, but when you see him, you know you're at the entrance.  "The Weight of History" is also here, where the artist depicts the writings of history's monsters as blocks of toner - the longer the tracts, the bigger the block.  Hitler is the biggest, for what it's worth.  "Venus of the Rags" is here too, which makes me smile.  I thought their Yinka Shonibare piece was included (as it should be), but I didn't see it.  Perhaps it's on loan?

Finally, I went to the Lower Level and saw the Markus Lupertz exhibit.  This is a survey of his works from the 1960s and 1970s.  They weren't really to my taste, to be blunt.  He's a Neo-Expressionist, which seems to be similar to being an Abstract Expressionist, as nothing's terribly attractive.  I do appreciate his works condemning war and militarism, particularly German militarism, responsible for so much of the 20th century's loss of life.  Still, a little of this goes a long way.

Verdict: It's the Hirshhorn; expect little, and the few things worth seeing will be that much more worthwhile.

A Day with my Niece

I spent Friday with my niece, and we went to the Botanic Garden and to the Hirshhorn.

I chose the Botanic Garden because they have three corpse flowers that are ready to bloom.  See the picture in the bottom left for a look at the most advanced of the specimens.  It hadn't actually started blooming when we went to see it, and I'm not sure if I'm glad or disappointed.  It was pretty impressive, even with no odor, but I feel as if we didn't really get the "full Monty."  Of course, we also didn't have to experience the stench, and on a hot day like Friday, that was probably a good thing.  And we didn't have to wait in line for hours to get in either, so all in all, I'm think I'm going to go with glad.

We walked around the whole garden, at least the inside part, and I realized I hadn't visited since 2010.  They've made some improvements since the last time I was there, and I was reminded of what a lovely venue it is.  One of those places that lowers my blood pressure as soon as I walk in the door. Although I love my office location, as it allows me to walk to the Mall on my lunch hour, I do wish the Botanic Garden were closer.

After lunch, we went to the Hirshhorn.  "That's an odd choice," those of you who read the blog regularly might be thinking, since I usually miss no opportunity to bash the concrete donut.  In this instance, we went to see the Ai Weiwei show, which I recommend.  He's created portraits of dissidents from around the world, done in Legos.  What I didn't realize until we went, was that this is the same show he put on in Alcatraz.  I was sorry to miss that, so very glad to see it here.  I think I would have gotten more out of it, if I had known more of the people portrayed (I knew Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King), but that's my fault, not Ai's.

We also saw the Yoko Ono pieces about mothers (in the main lobby) - people put up comments about their mothers on a big wall, and her Wish Tree in the sculpture garden.  We put up our own wishes (mine was for civility in political discourse - good luck to me with that), which was fun.

All in all, a great day, despite the heat.  

Lost in the Kusama Whirlwind

Where: Hirshhorn Museum

When: through May 14, 2017

It occurs to me that you really don't want to be an artist with a show at the Hirshhorn right now.  Sure, there's a crowd here, but they're not here to see you.  Who would go to the concrete doughnut and brave the insanity if they weren't going to see Kusama?  Well, me obviously, but almost no one else.

Linn Meyers has a show up now, especially created for the Hirshhorn's 2nd floor, and I walked around to see it recently.  Once I got past the crowds in the inner galleries, I had the place to myself.  Which was great for me, but not so great (I assume) for Meyers.  She's put these line drawings on the walls of the building; they struck me as looking like feathers or hair or fur.  The time and work involved must have been enormous, but it's all to be painted over when the show closes.

And somehow, that makes it worse that the work is getting so little attention.  If something's going to have such a short life (367 days), you'd like it to be really popular.  I'm gong to hope that before Kusama showed up, lots of people saw this.

Verdict: Go see this work before it's gone forever.  And not like those stores that run constant going out of business sales and never seem to close, but for real.

Orchids + Hirshhorn = Why?

Where: Hirshhorn Museum

When: through May 14, 2017

One of the shows I look forward to with eager anticipation is the bi-annual orchid exhibit at the Natural History Museum.  They set up a room full of flowers; it's like entering a different world.  I like to go when it's a particularly unpleasant day; it's like taking an hour long vacation from winter.

This year, for reasons that are unclear to me, the Smithsonian has decided to put the orchid display in the Hirshhorn.  It's in the main entryway, on the shelves depicted here.  The problems with this are as follows:

1. The plants are right in the middle of the hustle and bustle, which means one is not transported to a gentle, spring-like atmosphere.

2. The plants are a mere side-show, especially since the Hirshhorn is now a madhouse for the duration of the Kusama show; these are lovely flowers and deserve pride of place.

3. Although one might think that such a location would be damaging to the plants, it turns out that orchids are not fragile little snowflakes; they are quite hardy - how do I know this?  I read it on the wall notes at an earlier show.   Which brings us to the next problem, which is that there are no wall notes.

I can only hope that next year, I will be able to enjoy this event at Natural History.  Or at the Sackler or African Art - the smaller number of visitors would allow greater enjoyment.  Or at the International Gallery in the Ripley would be a great place.  Or, dare to dream,  maybe there would be a room in the Arts and Industries Building?  Or at the Freer, since it will be open again...

Verdict: Poor plants and poor visitors - deprived of a winter break by a bad location.

A Solution to American Art's Video Noise Problem

It's not often I hold up the Hirshhorn as a model for anything, but this is the exception that proves the rule.  They have a multi-video show on now (yes, there's actually something other than the Kusama show you can see there), and they've got a great way to prevent sound bleed-through.

First of all, it's one video to a room.  This not only allows for plenty of people to see the videos at the same time, but also means you don't have two screens competing for attention. Secondly, they have glass doors between the rooms.  The doors aren't terribly heavy, but they block the sound.

Bravo to the Hirshhorn for getting something right.  American Art, wander over and see what's up on the lower level of the concrete donut.

Verdict: Oh, and what about the videos themselves?  They're all right.  I don't think there's anything truly spectacular there, but not a bad way to pass some time.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Where: Hirshhorn Museum

When: through May 14, 2017

So I signed up for the Hirshhorn newsletter and got a ticket to see the Kusama exhibit as soon as I got the email and as fast as my fingers could click on the link, and last week I went to see it.

Frankly, it's hard to decide what I think about this show.  I find that my experience of going to see it colors so much of my opinion that it's hard to determine what I really think about the art itself.  I've tried to imagine what I would think if this had been just another Hirshhorn show: walk in, walk through the exhibit and leave, but it's such a "phenomenon" that it's hard to do that.

I think I also feel sort of guilty criticizing the work of a mentally ill person, as if I'm just piling on, adding to the misery of her life.  But then I remember that 1) when you put your art on display, you have to be prepared for whatever reactions to it come back, 2) the rest of the world seems to think she's an absolute genius, and the show has been praised high and low and 3) she's never going to read this blog post anyway.  So here goes:

Kusama does work in a variety of media: sculpture, video, performance art, paintings and immersive rooms.  The rooms are the big deal; the other stuff is basically what you look at to pass the time while you wait to get into a room.  And you know what phrase has been going through my head since I saw this show?  One trick pony.  Each room is really a big box.  Her art (pumpkins, penis-shaped sculpture, etc.) are on the floor, and the rest of the box is mirrors - sides and ceiling.  So the art is multiplied in all directions, along with you and whoever else is in the box with you.  Okay, I don't usually stand in a mirror box as part of my daily life, so it was different.  But if you've done that once, it's just the same thing over and over again, with different art.  There are also some boxes that you just put your face in to look at - there are lines for those as well.  Again, it's a mirror effect.

At the end of the show, you go into a totally white room - everything is white: walls, floor, and all the objects in the room.  A guard gives you some brightly colored stickers, and you put them wherever you want in the room.  The idea is that, by the end of the show, the room will be covered with dots (which, along with the pumpkins and penis-shaped sculptures, is a big part of Kusama's art).  That was kind of fun.

If you decide to go, here is some advice:

1. Go during the week.  The lines for each box were impossibly long on a mid-day Friday; I can't imagine how long the wait would be on the weekend.

2. Go as early in the day as you possibly can.  I went at noon, and things were already nuts.  If I had to do it over again, I'd get tickets for the first time available.

3. Realize you'll be standing in line for a LONG time.  You get about 20 seconds in a box, but you easily wait 30 minutes to get to the front of the line.  And there are a lot of lines just to get into the line for the first box.  I waited in a line outside to enter the museum, then in a line to enter the exhibit, then in a line for each box I entered (I went into three of them - there were some I missed, but life is short).

4. Bring something to do while you wait.  This could be a book, a phone, a friend, but you will need a distraction from the prospect of spending upwards of three hours at the Hirshhorn, to spend about ten minutes actually seeing the art.

5. If you don't like crowds, don't go.  I chatted briefly with a guard while I was waiting to go into a box, and I quipped that there were more people in the exhibit at that moment then all of the people I'd ever seen at the Hirshhorn in all of my previous visits.  She said they are expecting to have more visitors in the 12 weeks the show is on than in a usual four year span.

The big winner in all of this is the Hirshhorn.  People have been joining as members (for $250, to get tickets that let you jump the line) in such numbers that the website says they are at member capacity!  They have taken in so much money that they don't have the ability to take in any more!  You can (or at least you could when I visited) also buy a $50 ticket that doesn't give you membership, but let's you jump the line in the show (maybe it's just one line).  No idea if that's still going on.

Whoever got this show and has been promoting it as the "must see" event of 2017 is a genius.  Prior to this, all the news about the Hirshhorn was bad.  Their bubble was a bust; they fired a bunch of docents for being too old; there was some sort of leadership controversy that I can't remember the details of now.  All this is forgotten - the Hirshhorn is the darling of the DC art scene; they've got a show that's a license to print money.

Verdict: The mirrors are doing the heavy lifting in this show that's more about the event than the art.