A Man of Contradictions

Where: National Gallery of Art

When: through October 4, 2015

In addition to the Caillebotte show, the National Gallery has an exhibit of Joachim Wtewael paintings and prints on display on its Main Floor.  It's closer to the 4th Street entrance than the 7th Street entrance, so if you enter on 7th Street, you'll have the opportunity to walk through the museum and see what else is on the walls as you make your way to this show.

Joachim Wtewael was from the Netherlands and worked in the late 16th and early 17th centuries.  The first pieces you see in this show are family portraits, and they show a typical Dutch group; the men all have Van Dyke beards and ruffs; the women caps and Bibles close at hand.  A very proper gathering of merchants, you might easily think.

Not so fast.  Once you move past these offerings, you'll see quite the display of fleshy delights.  You get a hint of this in a Shepherd and Shepherdess set, that are far more earthy in tone than the rest of the portraits.  It's believed that Wtewael's daughter and son-in-law were the models for these.  If so, one wonders what the proper matron identified as Wtewael's wife would have thought of this.  One can only imagine that years of looking at her husband's mythological paintings made have inured her to art with sexual overtones.

But on to the non-family work, which is extensive and interesting.  Some of it is religious in topic.  Saint Sebastian gets some play, as well as Moses, the Christ Child and various shepherds.  If works of art inspired by the Bible are not your cup of tea, have no fear; there's plenty else to see.  Several takes on Mars and Venus being surprised in flagrante delicto by Vulcan are in the show, as examples of Wtewael's work on copper.  It was amazing to me that paintings completed over 400 years ago should be so vibrant and colorful today, but apparently copperplate does that.

There are also numerous scenes of mythological merry-making.  Lots of handsome gentlemen and voluptuous ladies behaving in ways that gentlemen and ladies are not supposed to behave.  It's all very sumptuous, no dour Dutch propriety here.  Something I noticed in all of these paintings is Wtewael's incredible attention to detail.  The smallest objects are rendered with fantastic precision.  My favorite work in the show is entitled Woman Selling Vegetables, and the fruit in the picture are so realistic, you want to reach right into the picture and pick them up.  It's not just the people who are sensuous.

The one jarring note is the way Wtewael paints feet.  There are any number of barefoot men and women depicted, not to mention various cupids, and everyone of them has big, ugly feet.  One expects this on men, especially if they're meant to be working men, but even on quite beautiful women, there are those big, ugly feet again.  What's up with that?  I understand that he was a Mannerist painter, and they do go in for distortion, but I'm pretty sure the distortion is meant to be elegant, not misshapen and hammer-toed.

Verdict: Feet aside, this is a good show, one I enjoyed and would recommend.

The Photographer's Eye

Where: National Gallery of Art

When: through October 4, 2015

The name of this exhibit is actually Gustave Caillebotte: The Painter's Eye, but I'm calling it "The Photographer's Eye," because some of this work is so precise and so of the moment, that you'd think you were looking at a photograph.  But a bit of background before we get started.

Gustave Caillebotte is one of the least well-known French Impressionists.  In part, this was because he had plenty of money and could afford to give his paintings away to friends.  Thus, not many of them turned up in museums.  Those "starving artists" had to sell their work, so more of it wound up in public spaces.  Caillebotte was also a collector of his friends' work, and he left his wonderful collection to the French state.  Since this included only two of his own works, he languished in obscurity until the mid-20th century.

I was first introduced to Caillebotte by the Masterpiece game.  It sounds ridiculous, but I'm willing to bet others got their earliest exposure to great art from that board game.  One of the works included was the one pictured above, Caillebotte's most famous work, Paris Street, Rainy Day which resides at the Art Institute of Chicago.  I saw it there almost three years ago, when on a business trip to the city, and I was happy to see it again.

What I noticed this time is how much like a photograph it is.  In addition to the precision of the painting, the scene is exactly the sort of thing you'd see walking down a busy street.  Clearly, it's composed: the umbrella handles mirror the lamppost and the spokes on the carriage wheels.  Everyone is carrying an identical umbrella.  The streets converge at a perfect point to show perspective in all directions.  But it doesn't feel composed.  It feels as if Caillebotte went out into the street on an overcast, gloomy, wet day and snapped a photo of Parisians scurrying out of the rain.  It's very cleverly done, precisely because it doesn't feel "done" at all.

Paris Street, Rainy Day dominates the room where it's displayed, as you might expect.  I read in a review that the National Gallery would not have put on the show without it, and I can understand why.  It's the star of the show and for good reason.

But, it's not the only reason to see the exhibit.  I would recommend another painting, The Yerres, Effect of Rain.  It's raindrops on a river, which doesn't sound like much, but which I think perfectly shows Caillebotte's mastery of precision and Impressionism.  The rain on the water (which one doesn't see terribly often, it seems to me) is very carefully done.  You see the circles on the water in a totally realistic way.  The trees on the opposite shore, however, are far more reminiscent of Monet or Renior - impressions of trees, rather than faithful recreations of the trees themselves.  The photographer is on display in the water, but the painter dominates in the background.

Verdict:  Don't miss this opportunity to learn more about Gustave Caillebotte - there's more to him than simply the rainy Paris streets you already know.

The Play's Not the Thing

Where: National Gallery of Art

When: through October 2, 2015

I don't get over to the East Building of the National Gallery of Art very much anymore, now that it's under construction and no exhibits are going on there.  I'll be glad when they re-open, as the West Building just doesn't have the space necessary for a blockbuster show.  Plus, there will be a roof garden!  And who doesn't like sitting in a roof garden on a lovely day?

For the moment, however, we must content ourselves with the display case in the Gallery's library.  Not so exciting as the Ballet Russes, but with its own quiet charm.  The current display is of books dealing with theater set design.  These aren't books of plays, but books about famous theaters: architectural drawings and big fold-out floor plans.  Several European countries are represented: France, Italy, Hungary, Germany and England.

I liked the display; the over-sized books and foldouts are eye-catching.  I'm no student of the technical side of the theater, so the content was lost on me, but if you are interested in that sort of thing, this would be of interest.

Verdict: Worth a visit, just to escape the heat, humidity and hurly-burly of tourists that is Washington in the summertime.

Just Not a Big Fan of Prints

Where: National Gallery of Art

When: through October 4, 2015

The National Gallery has recently added to its collection of prints, and they've set up a display on the ground floor to highlight their new acquisitions.  The show is in the two-room space across from the main special exhibit rooms.  I like this space; you get a very manageable number of things to see, making it ideal for a lunch hour excursion.

These prints are from the Italian Renaissance, a period which has been celebrated more for the historical importance of its prints, rather than their beauty.  The wall notes suggest that it is time to reconsider this assessment and look at these works as works of art, not just as technical achievements.

One of items on display is the "Hyperotomachia Poliphili," which is billed as the most beautiful illustrated book of the Italian Renaissance.  I wish the prints had been in color, as black and white is just not very interesting to me.  I tried to be enthralled with the artwork, but it was hard going.  I did appreciate the typeface and the arrangement of the print on the pages on view - it was shaped like a banner, coming to a point at the bottom - very clever, I thought.

Verdict: If you like prints, go see this show.  If not, well, you can safely skip it.

A Tale of Two Exhibits

Yesterday, I took myself to the Natural History Museum, intending to see two exhibits.  One was the interactive "Walk Among Dinosaurs!" and the other was "Once There Were Billions" about several species of extinct birds.  For all the hype about the ability to "meet" dinosaurs, the real star of the show is in the basement, with nary a sign to guide you to her.

Where: Natural History Musem

When: through September 2, 2014


What could be more exciting than seeing yourself face-to-face with prehistoric creatures?  You can "pet" them and make horror-struck faces and swerve to avoid being eaten.    Somehow, though, the whole thing fell flat.  The movie technology is fine, and I think the small kids in the audience enjoyed themselves, with the help of some fun-loving dads, but this just isn't my thing.  Perhaps you get what you pay for with these "augmented reality" displays, and since I paid nothing, well, you get the idea.

I appreciate that the museum has a big problem right now.  The dinosaur area, one of their most popular exhibit halls, is closed for a long time, and although it will doubtless be greatly improved when it re-opens, at the moment, they're scrambling to find something to fill this gaping void in their offerings.

Verdict: If you've got little kids, by all means go see this, as they'll doubtless enjoy themselves.  Adults can probably give this walk a pass.

Where: Natural History Museum

When: through October 2015

The second exhibit I saw was about as unlike the dinosaur walk as it is possible to imagine.  There are two big display cases next to the gift shop by the Constitution Avenue entrance, and the Smithsonian Library uses them to put up displays.  They tend to feature books from the Smithsonian holdings and artifacts from their warehouses.  Where the dinosaur walk used cutting-edge technology, this is heavy on text, and those display cases have been around since I was a child (possibly longer).

This display provides information and specimens of extinct bird species.  It is, in fact, all the info I had wished for when I saw the bronzes of these birds outside the museum and in the Haupt Garden.  Why, why is there no indication that this exhibit is here on the plaques identifying the statutes?  Just a few lines saying something to the effect of: if you're interested in these species and how they became extinct (spoiler alert: it's people), go see the display "Once There Were Billions" on the ground floor of the Natural History Museum."  How hard would that be?

Correction 8/23/14:  As it happens, I was in the Haupt Garden this week, and I saw that they do reference the "One There Were Billions" exhibit on one of the informational plaques.  So I take back my criticism for the lack of cross-referencing.  The rest of my rant stands.

If it were only a matter of a lack of cross-referencing, I would just shake my head and move on.  I've seen this before in the American History museum.  Come on people, help the tourists out.  They come for a day, they don't know exactly what you've got, give them some information so they can see things that interest them.

But it's not just that.  In this display case, is Martha, the last passenger pigeon, who died in (I think) 1914 in the Cincinnati Zoo.  I don't mean it's a model of her, or a photograph; I mean it's actually her.  Her body was stuffed after she died, and she belongs to the Smithsonian.  Usually, she's in a climate-controlled cabinet somewhere, far from the museum itself, but until October 2015, she's on display.  The last passenger pigeon!  And you can see her!  This should be big news; they should be promoting this all over their website and with big signs when you walk in.  Instead, nothing.  If I hadn't been reading the notes in the display case carefully, I would have missed her entirely.

What were they thinking?  If you're going to pull a specimen of this level of historical significance out of storage, why not make a big deal out of it?  Make Martha the centerpiece of a big display on extinction and the need for conservation.

Verdict: Go see this.  It's informative, it's small enough that it's easily managed in a lunch hour, and you can see the last passenger pigeon.