SARAH URIST GREEN
(VOICEOVER): Episode of "The Art Assignment" is
brought to you by Squarespace. [MUSIC PLAYING] [MUSIC PLAYING] SARAH URIST GREEN (VOICEOVER):
arrived to a grey, rainy Washington, DC, and
crawled our way through terrible morning traffic. It could've been bad, but
our cabbie had on NPR, and we could relax and enjoy
the fact that we were not the ones driving. We arrived at our hotel starving
and quickly scarfed breakfast in the lobby and pulled
out our various devices to get ready for the day. See this? See me double screening? This is not what I
should have been doing. At this very moment,
there was a press preview for the reopening of
the Renwick Gallery, where we really
should have been. The kind PR folks provided
us with this footage. And watching it is kind of
like turning a knife for me. The Renwick houses the
Smithsonian's collection of contemporary craft
and decorative art and was about to open after
a two-year renovation. They take a progressive approach
to this kind of collection ghettoization, presenting work
by a wide range of artists and makers, showing, quote,
how extraordinary handmade objects have shaped
the American experience and continue to
impact our lives. So these are the installations,
created specifically for the building
opening, that we should have seen instead of
writing emails and researching ramen places for lunch. This was a pretty major snafu. But we did a little
better after that. [MUSIC PLAYING] After taking our sweet
time deciding on lunch, we headed out and
took the Metro, descending into the
DuPont Circle Station at the weirdly slow pace
determined by the escalators. The DC Metro first
opened in 1976 and is a magnificent
artwork, in itself, designed by architect Harry Weese. Throughout the trip, I basked
in the strange, brutalist glory of this Metro system. The coffered concrete
vaulted ceilings lend a feeling of
spaciousness and highlight the remarkable geometries of
this complex transit system. The lighting is low,
indirect, and otherworldly. If you see no other public
art than this in DC, you're still doing OK. We arrived to at Daikaya
and waited patiently before devouring our
steaming bowls of ramen. I got the shoyu and
Mark the vegetable. Moving a little more slowly,
we got back on the Metro, picked up our gear, and headed
down Massachusetts Avenue, aka Embassy Row. We took in the parade
of passing buildings, each with its own distinct
architecture and design, on our way to
American University to meet up with artist
Molly Springfield. We stopped in to the
university's museum and their Katzen Art Center
and saw some really delicate, captivating works on
paper by Beverly Ress. Then we met up with Molly
and did some filming there before heading to her
studio an shooting the rest. When we were done, it was dark. And guess what? We were hungry. So on a tip from a friend, we
decided to walk to a place, called Compass Rose,
that specializes in international street
food but served inside instead of on the street. It was super dark,
so you'll have to trust me that I had a
bourbon drink that was great, despite its name,
hashtag lol, and then noshed on dishes that were
delicious, despite being culturally confusing. We had takoyaki, or Japanese
octopus fritters, bhel puri chaat, an Indian puffed
rice snack, and tostones, or fried plantains. It was Embassy Row all in
one, dark, little place. It was much nicer the next day. And we started out at
the Phillips Collection. They were playing
host to an exhibition, "Gauguin to Picasso," drawn
from private Swiss collections. But that's not why I was there. I was there to think
about the singular vision of the eponymous
Duncan Phillips, who gathered this astounding
collection by not only being the grandson of a steel
magnate but also by nurturing close relationships
with artists. Masterpieces of the 20th century
appear throughout this warren of buildings, which
started in 1921, with the Phillips' family home,
and extended into a music room, a modernist wing in the
'60s, and another addition in the '00s. The Phillips Collection
fuses architecture from different times as well
art from different times, providing room after room
of intimate art viewing moments, interspersing works
by Paul Klee and van Gogh and Mondrian and Jacob
Lawrence and Edward Hopper, with contemporary works like
Nikki S. Lee's photography and "Question Bridge, Black
Males" a video installation that looks to
represent and redefine black male identity in America. Then there's a Rothko room. And this is exactly how Rothko
wanted his work to be seen. You're alone in a room,
with four of his paintings, in close proximity, with
the lighting just so. And one floor up, you
encounter a recent work, by Wolfgang Laib, that
you smell before you see. It's a small chamber,
lined with beeswax and lit by a single
bulb, providing another immersive experience. Duncan Phillips
called this place, an intimate museum combined
with an experiment station. And that's just
how it feels, not like a history that is
organized and settled, but one that is still
being worked out, reexamined, and remixed. Then we returned
to my beloved Metro and headed to the National Mall. The mall is under construction
and not looking its best. But who cares? It's a symbol of progress, and
we're there for the art anyway. We stopping in the Freer
and Sackler galleries, which present the Smithsonian's
Asian art holdings, to see the Freer's Peacock Room. This is what it looks like
well-lit in the photos Wikipedia provides. But this is more what it's
like to experience it. But anyway, it's the former
dining room of rich guy Frederick Leyland that features
a painting by James McNeill Whistler as well as
elaborate wall decorations done by Whistler, without
Leyland's permission or payment. This resulted in one
of the most epic art battles of all time, which you
should really go read about. But what's
interesting is that we were lucky to visit
while Darren Waterston's contemporary
reimagination of the room was on view in the
adjacent Sackler Gallery. Waterston reconstructs the
room as a decadent ruin, making visible the
room's nasty history and commenting on the
excesses of both that Gilded Age and our own. Then we made a quick detour
through the National Gallery of Art Sculpture
Garden to say, hello, to these works by Sol Lewitt,
Tony Smith, Roxy Paine, Roy Lichtenstein, and Claes
Oldenburg and Coosje van Bruggen. I disregarded the
secret of enjoying art, and that's making sure your
blood sugar isn't too low. So we just kind of quickly
saluted these totems and hurried to Buredo, a
totem of trendy eating. They make burrito-sized
sushi rolls. Wait, do I need
to say that again? Burrito-sized sushi rolls. Sure, it's just a differently
shaped hand roll, which has existed for some time. But these weren't just novel and
well-marketed, they were good. And just the fuel we needed to
continue on our art marathon to the National Museum
of Women in the Arts. There we saw an excellent
exhibition of photographs by Esther Bubley, who was
hired by the Office of War Information and documented
life in the United States throughout the '40s,
'50s, and '60s. The museum also had on a great
show called "Pathmakers." It featured a really
interesting mix of work from the often separate spheres
of art and craft and design. And I especially enjoyed
this installation, by Polly Apfelbaum, a display
of the work of designer Hella Jongerius, and, of course, the
work of art assignment alumna Michelle Grabner. Next step, quick stops
at Hemphill Gallery, to see a show of
work by Renee Stout, and Adamson Gallery,
which had to show of magnificent photographs
by Gordon Parks. I had just written about
Parks for our animation in the Alex Soth episode about
the FSA's photography project. So it was a treat
to see the works in person and in large-scale. Then we made a way to
Transformer, a nonprofit art organization, to have
coffee with Victoria Reis, its executive
and artistic director. Transformer does important work
on behalf of emerging artists, locally, in DC, as well as
nationally and internationally. They do this not only
through exhibitions but also through educational
programs, partnerships with other institutions,
and an annual silent auction and benefit party, that they
had closed their gallery space to get ready for. They had a lovely installation,
in their storefront, by Paris-based artist
Helene Garcia, called "Let's Drink a Dozen Roses,"
providing us further proof that bigger isn't always
better, and art and new ideas can thrive in unexpected places. We ended the day back
on the National Mall. I forgot to mention it
was Veteran's Day, which, I'm ashamed to
admit, usually comes and goes for me with
little activity in honor of the important day. We walked along the
Vietnam Veterans Memorial, as the last of the chairs
were being broken down from the earlier
ceremonies, and scanned, with many others, the names
of the over 58,000 servicemen and women who died
during the war. The Wall, as it's called,
is a stunning work of art-- the best in the
city in my view-- designed by artist and
architect Maya Lin when she was only a senior in college. It was a moving
experience, and one that stayed with me
even as we continued on to the much less
moving Lincoln Memorial to fight for photo space. And it definitely
stayed with me as we witnessed a beautiful sunset
over the reflecting pool. The next day, we got up
early to try out GBD Donuts but were devastated to find that
they don't open until 11:00 on most weekdays. Not that early GBD. And we didn't have
much time, so we were kind of forced to go
upstairs to Jrink for a juice instead. It was actually really good
juice, which I do recommend. But when you're expecting
donuts, well, it's not donuts. Then off we went to DC's
foremost contemporary art institutions, the Hirshhorn,
which, come to think of it, is kind of shaped like a donut. It was designed by architect
Gordon Bunshaft, as a, quote, large piece of
functional sculpture, and opened to the
public in 1974. Its curved galleries define
and expand your experience of the work it contains. And its windows provide views
out to the National Mall, with an exhibition
of works drawn from their permanent collection. Ditching the tired tactic
of organizing by chronology or geography, the curators
have opted instead to create thematic groupings. You get to see the treasures
of their collection, like early sculptures by Claes
Oldenburg and Robert Gober's window to another time and
place, along with newer editions by Cai Guo-Qiang,
Yinka Shonibare, and Nick Cave. There's a wonderful
piece by Rachel Harrison on view, which may,
at first glance, look like another
modernist-informed sculpture until you register it's roughly
hewn structure and bright pink plaster that undercut any
read of it as traditional. Oh, and the toy
wrestler climbing it, which, for me, is a brilliantly
cheeky nod at the idea of heroic artistic ambition. The galleries combine
works, from different times and sensibilities and
parts of the world, that talk to each other and
have uniting principles. Like this gallery
that brings together paintings from the 1960s,
by Warhol and Ed Ruscha, with sculptures from the '80s,
by Sol Lewitt and Katharina Fritsch, and a more recent
painting by Ellsworth Kelly. You're encouraged to think
about the foundations of pop art and how the strategy
of repetition connects it to
minimalism and beyond as well as how artists
investigate color and form. We also made sure to see the
Barbara Kruger installation that fills the museum's
lower-level lobby and surrounds you with
open-ended questions. And the enormous 1974
Dan Flavin installation that immerses you
in color and begs to be viewed from many angles. Before we left, we peeked in
at a truly enjoyable video work by Spanish artist Sergio
Caballero in their Black Box gallery. You can watch the
whole thing on Vimeo. Then we headed over the Potomac
to the headquarters of PBS to say, hi, to Lauren
Saks and Kelsey Savage. We got a good look
around the place and ran into a few
startling posters before heading out for a
late lunch of South Korean fried chicken wings at Bonchon. Remember, we were only
running on juice here, so it was no time for restraint
I felt a little guilty ending our trip with a
chain, but at least it was an international chain. And, you know, every meal
can't be sushi burritos. So Mark and I really thought
our parting shot of this video should be a sunset at
the reflecting pool. And it really should be. But I'm not clever
enough to rework the chronology of this video. So we're just bring it back now
to erase the visual of chicken wings and draw some conclusions
about our time in this city. DC is a remarkable,
whole-body experience, a place not just for singular
views or paintings on a wall, but whose landmarks demand
that you move through them, immerse yourself in them, and
see them from many angles. It's an international
city and a smart city, one where far flung ideas
and flavors and values are allowed to
intermix and be tested. It's a city that honors
the past and thinks critically about the future. And almost all of it, you
can experience for free. This episode of
"The Art Assignment" is brought to you
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