The Archives Explores Jazz History

Where: American History Museum

When: through January 18, 2016

If you're not a jazz aficionado, you can be forgiven for not knowing much (or anything at all) about Billy Strayhorn.  An important figure  in the history of the genre, he was overshadowed by his far more famous contemporary and one-time partner, Duke Ellington.

In fact, their 28-year partnership was one of the most important in American musical history.  Ellington had what the exhibit notes describe as a "forceful persona" (wonder what exactly that's a euphemism for?), and Strayhorn seems to have gotten pushed into the back seat in their joint enterprises.  Scholars are now taking a closer look at Strayhorn and his contributions to America music, and this exhibit is on as part of a celebration of the 100th anniversary of his birth, on November 29th.

This show, which includes sheet music with notes, albums and photographs, depicts Strayhorn as enormously talented, but content to stay in the background, allowing others to take all the credit for work that was partly his.  It was only in his later years that Strayhorn went out on his own, away from Ellington.  The question I have is why was he content to remain in the background?  Why did he allow his contributions to be unattributed or treated as second-best?  Sadly, the exhibit doesn't provide an answer, which is unfortunate.  I checked on Amazon and there is a new biography out; clearly I'll need to read that in order to learn more about him.

One little piece of information I was able to take away was that arguably his most famous composition, "Take the A Train," was based on directions to Ellington's apartment - one of those neat facts to trot out at cocktail parties.

Verdict: If you're at all interested in jazz or in American musical history, this is worth a look.

Big Influence; Big Exhibit

Where: Sackler Gallery

When: through January 31, 2016

Tawaraya Sotatsu, who worked in the early 1600s, was a major influence on many well-known Japanese artists, but this is his first major retrospective in the Western Hemisphere.  Little is known about his personal life, and many of his works were erroneously credited to others.

Charles Lang Freer took an interest in his work in the early 1900s and purchased two Sotatsu masterpieces: "Dragons and Clouds" and "Waves at Matsushima" (pictured here).  Happily, both are on display, and they are truly amazing.  They are quite large; you really need to step back and view them at a distance to take them in.  "Waves" is not only a depiction of the sea, but also colorful trees and rocks.  "Dragons," although less colorful, is no less powerful; you feel as if the beasts are going to come right out of the screens.

Perhaps my favorite piece is one entitled "A Child Holding a Spotted Puppy"; it's very endearing.   The expressions on both the child's and the puppy's faces are lovely.  It makes you realize that no matter how much the world has changed in the last 400 years (and it's changed a lot), there will always be kids and dogs.

A video guide placed near the entrance of the show alerts you to the techniques on display in Sotatsu's art.  I don't know why they've set this up, but I like it very much, both because it's informative and because it's so well done.  I wish they would do this for more shows going forward.  It's not that the work is that inaccessible to Western viewers, but for those of us without Freer's discerning eye, it's helpful!

Another aspect of this show that's new to me is the opportunity for audience participation.  About mid-way through the show (which is HUGE), visitors can pick up fan-shaped pieces of paper and use colored pencils to draw their own designs.  Once finished, you can share your fan decoration on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram.   It's a contest (involving likes on Facebook); the prize is a basket of Sotatsu-related items.  It occurred to me that my niece might enjoy this type of thing; I'll have to see if she might like to go over winter break...

I also want to give them kudos for providing directions through the show right at the entrance, so you know where to start and how to proceed to see everything.  In addition, they direct you to a related show in the Freer.  This is exactly the kind of signage I'd like to see throughout the Smithsonian: easy to understand and very informative.

In addition to original works, there is also a section of digital images.  Many Asian art works are either so old or so fragile that they are not able to be displayed.  Digital photography allows visitors to see these works in tremendous detail, without damaging the originals.  The Sackler and Freer are experimenting with this technology, so I'm hoping that more Sotatsu pieces will be on display digitally in the years to come.

The final part of the exhibit is entitled "Rediscovery" and contains pieces done by later artists influenced by Sotatsu and/or in homage to his work.  There are some terrific things in this set of galleries as well.

Verdict: This is a whale of an exhibit.  If you recall the show they had on yoga a while back, it's set up (I think) in the same spaces and is about as large.  Not really a lunchtime outing, unless you rush through, and what's the sense in that?  Worth savoring.

50 years old and still topical

Where: American History Museum

When: through January 20, 2016

The Hart-Celler Act may be 50 years old, but the issue of immigration could not be more current.  This act shaped modern American society, by allowing people from Latin America and Asia to immigrate in large numbers to the U.S.

Prior to 1965, U.S. immigration policies favored white people seeking to come here from Northern Europe.  The Hart-Celler Act enabled immigrants from all over the world to come, and our food, popular culture and way of life generally have been changed (in my opinion, for the better) in many ways.  This is a far more diverse nation than it was before 1965, and I think many people are more open to learning about the experiences of those different from themselves than they were when they lived only with those who looked and lived just as they did.

The people you might recognize in the picture above include not only President Lyndon Johnson signing the legislation, but also his wife Lady Bird Johnson, Vice-President Hubert Humphrey and both Ted and Bobby Kennedy.

Verdict:  If you're at American History, stop and have a look at this display in a case on the 2nd floor (it's off to the side, not in the main hall).

Ideas for a Postage Stamp Yard

Where: Ripley Center

When: through January 31, 2016

Hooray - another trip to one of my favorite subterranean destinations!  The Ripley concourse, having finished playing host to the winners of the Smithsonian employee art contest, is now the home of a few garden tableaux designed especially for small spaces.

The display pictured is sitting on a settee, and all of the displays would fit comfortably on an apartment balcony or in a townhouse front yard.  You need not abandon your green thumb simply because you don't have a mansion-sized estate.  You just have to scale down your ambitions a bit.

Featured are a fairy garden (pictured above), several terrariums, green walls, stumperies (plants grown in tree stumps or logs) and dish gardens.  The trick with these is to group together plants that need the same amount of water and sunlight.  An obvious point, but one worth making before you spend a lot of effort to put things in a small plot that look lovely, but just can't live together.

This exhibit is put on by the Smithsonian Gardens, a vital part of the institution that I suspect is often overlooked by visitors.  They have a huge orchid collection (which is where the plants for the annual orchid display originate), many tropical plant specimens and a greenhouse full of nectar plants that are used to provide sustenance for the Butterfly Pavilion at the Natural History Museum.  In addition to all this, they have a collection of over 1,700 garden furnishings, including items as old as the mid-1800s.

Verdict: If you have any interest in adding a bit of greenery to a small space, or are just a fan of gardening in general, this small display is worth a trip underground.

Pueblo Pottery Meets Art Deco

Where: American Art Museum

When: through January 31, 2016

When I saw this image on the Smithsonian, I became very interested in seeing this show.  I'd never heard of this artist before, but the idea of combining Native American design with Art Deco sounded great to me.  I LOVE Art Deco, and am in favor of combining it with anything.

To offer up just a bit of background on Tsireh, he was a Native American artist who took the pottery designs of his Pueblo people and made stylized watercolors that incorporated modernist trends that started in New York and spread across the country.  If he'd been working now, rather than in the early 20th century, I suppose I would say his work is a mash-up of traditional designs and Art Deco.

The first room of the show is Tsireh's early work, which is more traditional Native American art.  If you like that, you'll enjoy this.  The drawings are reminiscent of things I've seen at NMAI, and I admired their precision and depictions of rituals that were unfamiliar to me.  I was, I confess, a bit disappointed though.  Where was the Art Deco bit?  None of this looked the least bit modernist.  Remembering that I hadn't yet seen the image from the website, I soldiered on, and it was in the second and third rooms that I found some truly wonderful pieces.

As Tsireh's style matured, he incorporated modernist techniques, so if you like Art Deco, it's his later stuff that will appeal.  In addition to the piece pictured here, Basket Dancers, the things I liked the best were his "Rainbow Paintings."  These are pictures of animals with a rainbow over top - very Art Deco, and wonderful colors.  It was all I could do to tear myself away.  I'm happy I did, as I was then able to see his series of "Animal Designs," which are also great.  These are fantastical creatures inspired by Pueblo, Navajo and Mayan art with an Art Deco flair.

I was happy to see that this show is mentioned as a critic's choice in the Washington Post's Fall Arts Preview (in today's "Arts and Style" section).  I'm hoping this will bring more people to see this work.

Verdict: Don't miss this great little show.  Easily managed in a lunch hour, it's time very well spent.

Is This the Weirdest Thing I've Ever Seen?

Where: Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden (where else?)

When: through January 3, 2016

Obviously, the question I've posed in this blog posts's title is one only I can answer, so you gentle readers, may treat it as rhetorical.  In an effort to make up my mind on just how weird this is, I've been trying since Friday afternoon to think of something I've seen that's more peculiar than this, and I've not been able to come up with anything.

As we all know, the Hirshhorn is the home of the bizarre, the ridiculous and the eye-rolling when it comes to art, but as much as I criticize their permanent collection, I've always been a big fan of their video offerings.  "Floating McDonald's" is my all-time favorite, but I've seen many other films that I've just loved.  They're out of the ordinary, but they're interesting, thought-provoking, strange in a good way.

The latest addition to the Black Box series is something called "Ancha es Castilla" or "N'importe quoi."  Loosely translated, the French means "Whatever."  I'd be hard pressed to come up with  a better title.  Sergio Caballero is the film maker, and according to the wall notes outside the viewing room, he has a cult following at international film festivals.  I'm not surprised, as his work screams "cult following."

I could try to give you a synopsis of the plot of this 25-minute bit of cinema, but really, there are no words to describe this.  It deals with a child's exorcism and uses puppetry, but it's really something you have to see for yourself.  I watched the last half of the film (it runs on a continuous loop, with five minutes between showings), so maybe it would all have made sense if I'd seen it from the beginning, but somehow, I doubt it.  I'm not saying I didn't like it, but I'm reluctant to recommend it.

Verdict: If you're in the Hirshhorn anyway, have a look.  If you can make sense of it, let me know!

Looking at Italian Art

Where: Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden

When: through January 3, 2016

It was a banner week this week, gentle readers.  I made not one but two, count 'em two, trips to the Hirshhorn!  Longtime followers know how much I love the Mall's big concrete donut and its collection of what my niece would call "silly art."  Well, there's plenty of that on offer in their show "Le Onde" on display until early January.

The show focuses on the Italian influence on modern art from Europe and Latin America in the 20th century and is co-sponsored by the Italian Embassy.  For a relatively small country that hasn't been powerful for more years than I can count, Italy exerts an out-sized influence on many forms of artistic expression, and I raise my hat to them.

The piece pictured here is called "Blue Surface 5," and it's by Enrico Castellani.  It's oil paint on linen stretched over nails.  When you're up close to it, you can see the nails protruding through the canvas, but viewed from a distance (or online), it looks like weaving.  I liked it, both for the trompe l'oeil effect and for the fantastic blue color.

The thing that really stole the show, however, was "Wave Motion Thread" by Francois Morellet.  This is the sort of thing that makes the Hirshhorn the Hirshhorn, and I'll warn you, I don't mean that in a good way.  This is, I kid you not, a piece of thread that stretches from the ceiling, where it's attached to a motor, almost to the floor, where it's attached to a plummet (a small piece of metal that keeps it stretched out).  For five minutes, the motor turns on and the thread bounces up and down.  Then, for ten minutes, it rests.  You've got to be kidding me.  Seriously, Hirshhorn?  A thread on  a motor bouncing up and down is not art.  It's just not.

One thing I do want to mention is the overall greatness of the Hirshhorn guards.  They are absolutely the friendliest, most helpful folks I've encountered in many years of museum-going.  One of them showed me how to look at a piece involving a projector (you put your arm in front of it, to see the projection) on this trip.  I've been helped by other guards several times.  No matter how much they must want to roll their eyes at the nonsense they see everyday, they are unfailingly pleasant.

Verdict: The best thing about this show is that it's close to another exhibit featuring a Yinka Shonibare piece.  It's okay, but not a crying shame if you miss it.  Unless you're really into bouncing thread.  Then run right over.

A Conversation about "Conversations"

Where: Museum of African Art

When: through January 24, 2016

I'd been debating with myself for a long time over whether to go to the Cosby exhibit at African Art.  On the one hand, I love going to exhibits, and I wanted to see the art works.  On the other hand, Mr. Cosby is at best, a huge sleazeball and at worst, a rapist.  Of course, it's not the art's fault that their owner is such a dreadful person.  But, he did use his persona as a "nice guy" to make a fortune, that enabled him to purchase all of this art, and have his collection shown at the Smithsonian.

I went back and forth for (literally) months.  I go to see shows based on when they're closing, and every time this show was the "next" one I would go to see, something else would open with an earlier closing date, and I could put off making a final decision. Finally, however, my luck ran out, and I decided to go see the show.  I'm not sure if I'm happy I saw it, but I am happy that I can stop thinking about going to see it.

Setting aside the controversy about the show for a moment, I want to focus on the show itself.  It's an interesting idea - juxtaposing works by African artists with works by African-American artists.  There are similar themes present, and they do seem to "go together" - nothing looks jarring or out of place.  Is this because the artists share a common cultural heritage, even if they've been separated from one another for hundreds of years?  I was reminded of a show on baskets I saw here several years ago, and how the items made by Africans are very similar to those made by African-Americans.  The topic is intriguing, and it's a shame that the scandal hanging over the show overshadows that.

One of the pairings I saw that I liked very much is the one represented here.  The painting "Benin Head" is by African-American artist David C. Driskill, and it is displayed alongside an actual Benin head sculpture.  I very much like seeing representations of things along with the actual thing itself.  It happens rarely, but I'm always delighted when it does.  I was also introduced to sculptor Elizabeth Catlett, whose works "Maternity" and "The Family" I impressed me very much.  I'll have my eye out for more of her work in future.

But now, back to the controversy.  As you walk into the exhibit, there is a notice containing a message to visitors about the exhibit.  The Smithsonian is taking the view (which I suppose is the one I ended up taking) that they decry Cosby's behavior, but they think the art is worthy of being shown on its own merits.  Just because a bad person likes a piece of art doesn't make the art itself bad.  They've also set up a comment book, which I didn't read, so if visitors want to vent their spleen, they may feel free to do so.

What struck me as I went through the show is how much of the Cosby pieces show families and spirituality.  In fact, the wall notes for the "Spiritualities" section indicates that these pieces are meant to be a guideline to pursue a moral life.  I would say that's the most ironic bit about this show, except that, in the display of quilts (which are lovely), one quilt has a square that reads, "What part of NO Didn't you Understand?"  Yes, indeed, that is the question.

Of course, Cosby's behavior is not the only controversy surrounding this exhibit.  There's the fact of the Smithsonian putting it on in the first place.  Apparently, it's considered bad form to display works from a private collector that have not been given or promised to the museum displaying them.  I gather that having your works shown at an institution with the reputation of the Museum of African Art increases the value of the works, so the museum is, in essence, giving the collector a gift.  When you add in that the director of the museum is a personal friend of the Cosbys, well, that starts to look bad.

Verdict: The show is very large, and I only had time to skim much of it.  You could easily spend two lunch hours looking at everything.  I didn't feel great walking around, I must confess.  The scandal hangs heavy in the atmosphere.  Whether you'd feel the same way is something only you can decide.

Both an Advertisement and an Arcade

Where: Air and Space Museum

When: through January 2016

As long time readers are well aware, Air and Space is possibly my least favorite Smithsonian Museum.  It's always crowded, usually with noisy boys running madly from rocket to rocket, and gawping parents, stopping every three steps to look at the space ships hanging from the ceiling.  Don't misunderstand me, I've seen some good things here, mostly in the gallery devoted to art (the photographs of the planets is one of the best things I've seen ever), but as a general rule, I don't view a trip to Air and Space with the happy anticipation I experience when contemplating a trip to the Sackler.

Today's voyage did nothing to change my view of Air and Space, although I think this exhibit will delight many visitors.  It's called "Above and Beyond," and it deals with innovation in flight.  Since flight, whether on Earth or into space, is nothing but innovation, this is not much of a stretch.  There's plenty to talk about and lots to do.

It's a brand new display, very bright and shiny and interactive.  It reminded me strongly of an arcade filled with games, although it occurs to me that such places are probably passe now that everyone has a game system at home.  You see the family happily positioning themselves as flying birds in the picture - it's lots of that sort of thing.  Videos and simulations are the order of the day.

I also noticed that Boeing is the sponsor of this exhibit.  Their name is featured prominently throughout, and in the video I watched, I learned about some new products they are working to develop.  I was too weary from being interacted with to develop a full rationale for why this bothered me, but it did and still does.  I'm bombarded by advertising every where I look; I'd like my museums to be commercial-free.

Verdict: If you've got children or if you're a fan of games, run right over to Air and Space.  Otherwise, you can give this a miss.

A Pleasant Surprise

Where: National Portrait Gallery

When: through January 10, 2016

I flatter myself that I usually know whether I'm going to like a show or not before I step foot in a museum.  Either I'm familiar with the artist or the genre, or I'm intrigued by the historical subject, and I'm pretty sure I'll like it, or I make myself go see something out of a sense that perhaps I'll learn something, or maybe it won't be as bad as I think.  By this time (I've been going to museum exhibits regularly for almost six years now), I'm usually right.

But every once in a while, I'm wrong.  Happily wrong.  I think I'll not really care for something, or it won't be of much interest, and instead I'm quite taken with an artist or fascinated with a subject.  The current display of portraits by Elaine de Kooning at the National Portrait Gallery is just such an instance: I walked in thinking I'd not care for her work, but I left a fan.

Her portraits are unusual, in that rather than faithfully recreating someone's features, they use abstraction to express the sense of a person - how they move or the gestures they make.  They are portraits of the things about a person that makes them recognizable, even if you can't see their face.  And often, you can't see her subject's face, as she's erased it, or painted it out.

Something I really liked about this show, and it's not a technique I've seen before, is the inclusion of pencil studies for the portraits.  These are surprisingly precise, much more like a traditional portrait.  You see the starting point for the painting, and then you see the finished artwork.  And I think that shows just how artistic the portraits are.  Usually, you look at a portrait, and you evaluate it based on how much it looks like the subject.  You think, "That's a great portrait of so-and-so; it looks just like her!"  You can do that with the preliminary studies, because (I'm assuming) that's their purpose.  Once you see the paintings, however, you've moved past the point of expecting a photographic image - you can see the art as well as the subject.

There were several pieces in this exhibit that I'd seen before.  One of the Kennedy paintings was on display in 2013, and I know I've seen the Donald Barthelme and Merce Cunningham pieces before.  (But in what show?  Curse this middle-aged brain!)

I also felt quite intellectual when I read the wall notes for a pencil study she did for a self-portrait.  The writer indicated that the piece was so precise that it might have been a silverpoint.  Imagine my self-satisfaction in knowing what that meant!  Thank you very much, National Gallery of Art.

Verdict: I highly recommend this show.  It was, to me at least, surprisingly good.

A Blast from the Past

Where: American History Museum

When: through January 2016

I've mentioned before how much I enjoy the exhibits in the Small Documents Gallery on the 2nd floor of American History, and this display is another interesting examination of a piece of America's story - this time with a twist.  Rather than printed documents, which make up the usual show here, this time the documents are audio recordings.

Alexander Graham Bell, of telephone fame, was very interested in recorded sound, and worked on the idea of a phonograph.  Bell and two friends set up a company called Volta Laboratory here in Washington, at 1221 Connecticut Avenue, NW.  (Since that's close to the area where I used to work, I'm sure I've walked past that location numerous times, unaware of its historical connections.)

Lost to time for decades, as technology advanced and left these formats behind, the recordings they made languished in silence in a box at American History after they were donated to the museum for safekeeping, in case of a patent fight.  One usually thinks of donations to a museum as a noble gesture, designed to preserve the nation's history for future generations.  In this case, not so much.  Whatever the reason for the gift, I'm glad this is where the recordings wound up.

Now, thanks to a partnership among the Lawrence Berkeley Laboratory, the Library of Congress and the American History Museum, they are audible once again.  Not only can you see the recordings and read transcripts of their contents, you can actually hear them.   A software called IRENE allows old recordings to come to life - a way for content from endangered historic media to be heard by modern ears.

Among the recordings you can hear is Bell's actual voice, the only authenticated example of him speaking.  He reads out a text a couple of minutes long that closes with the words, "Hear my voice."  Now, after so many years, we can do just that.

Verdict: This is a small show and well worth seeing and hearing!