Arts Therapy 2020

Never mind it's been November in my soul since the end of August, with last year's retirement begetting a seemingly endless march of funerals (and the one wedding on the fall calendar offset just three weeks ago by the last and most devastating of these rites). The usual course for most people is immersion among more people. This is not my way.

I'd already had a ticket for the February 12 Giselle at the Kennedy Center, starring my oft-discussed Daniil Simkin as Albrecht, and it was an outing I could not deny myself despite that morning's fatal news. My evening of solitary reflection among crowds was briefly and pleasantly interrupted before the theater opened as I sat with a gentleman (stranger to me) who loved music and dance and all things beautiful and heart-swelling. Enjoyable encounter. I even told him about the time I wrote a ballet during a National Symphony Orchestra open rehearsal of Mahler's Fifth ("My, My, Mahler" and "The Mahler Ballet").

That was pretty much the end of the enjoyable encounter with another solitary member of the crowd. The ballet was dreary. Act 1 was all acting, little dancing. Too many people on stage standing or sitting about with nothing to do. And other than a few fireworksy variations from Daniil and his Giselle (Sarah Lane) and the expected excellent corps work in Act 2, not much from Giselle's gang of "ghost bitches" could get my mind away from the personal sorrows at hand.

A week away to tend to the sorrows at hand, and I felt a little more ready to face the crowds for the next outing already on my calendar, Silent Sky by Lauren Gunderson at Ford's Theatre. Science, history, feminism, families, problem solving, romance, humor--a few of the starry elements crossing the sky. The tourist-heavy and generally youthful audience was exuberant and gave a well-deserved standing ovation. I love standing ovations at Sunday matinees. I always smile and say to Edward Duke, "See? They're not the worst houses!"

Ballet, theater ... two of the couches I crawl onto for my art therapy. The other is museums, particularly art museums.

Yesterday's excursion to the National Gallery of Art was inspired by the Washington Post review by Sebastian Smee (author of The Art of Rivalry) of the "True to Nature" exhibit. I got there in time for the 11 a.m. guided lecture and again had a delightful pre-tour chat with two like-minded strangers. Unfortunately I lost them in the crowd that followed our guide through three small and fully occupied rooms. I enjoyed what I could see, cornered by the crowd, but didn't have quite the same reflective experience Sebastian did.

Artist in a Renaissance Costume Sketching in the Arena of Nimes (1822) by Fleury Richard.

crowd

As is my custom, I went directly to the Garden Cafe for a Ladies Who Lunch lunch (alone in a smaller and quieter crowd). I think "garden cafe" is a sweet aesthetic; if and when I move, that might be my new design guide. The mouse (I think) scurrying across the floor rattled me a little, but not enough to scream out. Just pick up purse from floor and rest feet on the cafe table's ornamental iron legs.

Garden Cafe, ornamental legs and shadows

National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.: West facing East

The Sacrament of the Last Supper (1955) by Salvador Dali. (NGA link)

For the remainder of my visit, I went back to some of my favorite rooms (starting in Gallery 71) and looked more closely at pictures, observing specificity without detail (as with the True to Nature paintings).

South Room - Green Street (1920) by Daniel Garber. (NGA link)

Detail--or specificity? Light and reflection.

Wandered around some more, spending more time with each picture, including Albert Bierstadt's epic Lake Lucerne.

Lake Lucerne (1858) by Albert Bierstadt. (NGA link)

  

And many more. Please pardon the colors and blurries. Go in person. It's better.

Love, hosaa
Therapeutic art trekking

2015 in Brief

The paucity of posts this past year means on the whole it's probably best left mostly forgotten. The good news was a new career direction for her own self and good connections retained, all of which has left me running to keep caught up.

For the arts interests I normally report on here, I'll keep it brief and start with the closest event in the rear-view mirror. Thanks to the New Year's Eve afternoon off, I stumbled off to the National Gallery of Art to treat myself to a ladylike buffet in the Garden Cafe and a serendipitous wander through the halls and special exhibitions.

The gallery that caught me by surprise was the Hellenistic bronzes in an exhibit titled Power and Pathos. The bronzes from about the age of Alexander the Great are rare, the wall captions explain, because through the ages the pieces became more valued for their scrap prices and were melted down or lost at sea on their way to being exported and then melted down.

The walls further explained the aesthetic choices the lightweight bronze material made possible (as opposed to heavier materials such as marble) for capturing realistic, lifelike human emotions, gestures, and features rather than idealized portraits that connected leading figures of the day to their godly ideals. I like that.

One piece (rather, two seabed-recovered reconstructed pieces) caught my attention. It was called simply "Statue of a Man." I couldn't keep my eyes off its startling familiar face. It was the hairline, the jawline, the noble (if broken) posture. It was John F. Kennedy, no mistake.

Another woman gazing at the piece had what I imagine my same mesmerized expression, so I shared my thoughts with her. She smiled and said she thought it was just her! No, we confirmed each other's impression and chatted momentarily. A nice connection, but we moved on.

I came back to that room; I couldn't help myself. JFK drew me back. On a somewhat crowded New Year's Eve afternoon, there were a couple of artists wandering among the tourists and office-escapees, so I watched another mesmerized viewer sketching my JFK statue. I peered over his shoulder at his sketch, which was quite taking shape. He nervously peered back over his shoulder at me, so I apologized for peeking.

"How'm I doing?" he asked. I assured him I loved his drawing. Then he asked me if the statue reminded me of anyone. "JFK" I said immediately. He smiled and said he thought it was just him! "It's the hairline," I said. And we chatted momentarily. Another nice connection, but I moved on.

I ducked into the video room to watch the documentary, but if they showed our JFK statue, I missed it. Then I went to the exhibit's mini gift shop, but none of the postcards, T-shirts, or other gewgaws featured our JFK. There's a very expensive exhibition book, though, which includes the statue, but I swore off buying exhibition books a year ago until I got on firmer financial footing (and create more space on my bookshelves). I went back to find my sketch artist to see if I could get him to send me a scan of his sketch when he was done, but I couldn't find him again.

Nor could I find, this morning, any photos of our JFK statue online--not even in the NGA press images for the exhibit. So I may be making another trip back to NGA's gift shop, where I already took advantage of the post-Christmas discounts to pick up next year's "season's greetings" cards.

[Edited to add: Found it! From this page]

Male figure,The 2nd century BCE, bronze, cm 127 x 75 x 49, Brindisi, Museo Archeologico Provinciale "F. Ribezzo” | via Zest Today

On the way out, I got to speak briefly with the chief of retail operations, and I mentioned my "Kennedy" statue. He smiled and said they usually got Edward, not John, comments on the Kennedy resemblance. Too funny. I guess that ages me.

2015 year in review

January
7 - American Art Museum, gallery talk on Richard Estes
12 - Shakespeare Theatre Company, Lansburgh, ReDiscovery Reading: "Big Night"
28 - Round House Theatre, "Rapture, Blister, Burn"

February
15 - Synetic Theatre, "Much Ado About Nothing"

March
8 - Bethesda Christ Lutheran church, free concert
16 - Round House Theatre, reception and new season announcement
21 - U.S. Navy Memorial Heritage Center, U.S.S. Emmons plaque dedication

April
8 - Round House Theatre, "Uncle Vanya"
14 - Ford's Theatre, Lincoln Tribute
23 - Birchmere, Marshall Tucker Band
24 - Carnegie Institution, Earth Policy Institute book release party, The Great Transition

May
7 - Kennedy Center, NSO working rehearsal (Mahler's Fifth Symphony and the ballet that ensued)

May
17 - Synetic Theatre, "Tale of Two Cities"
27 - Round House Theatre, "NSFW"

June
25 - Brookings Institution, book release event, The China Challenge 

July
28 - Round House Theatre, One-Minute Play Festival
31 - Round House Theatre/Adventure Theatre, "Oliver!"

August
23 - Landmark Theatre, Bethesda Row, "Merchant of Venice"

September
9 - Art Institute, Chicago (volunteers handed out postcards of some of the pictures exhibited)
25-26 - National Inclusion Project, Founders Reception and Champions Gala

October
6 - Kennedy Center, members annual meeting
15 - Mazza Gallery, RSC "Hamlet" with Benedict Cumerbatch
19 - Shakespeare Theatre Company, Lansburgh, ReDiscovery Reading, "Bingo"
25 - Round House Theatre, "The Night Alive"
29 - Brookings Institution, book release event, America's Political Dynasties

November
1 - Kennedy Center, Suzanne Farrell Ballet
16 - Shakespeare Theatre Company, Lansburgh, ReDiscovery Reading, "Desdemona"

December
6 - Round House Theatre, "Stage Kiss"
7 - Ford's Theatre, members holiday party

I also saw Ironbound and The Guard, at Round House and Ford's, respectively, but didn't record the dates. Recaps at "Where Is Love" and "The Touch of Art." Good stuff, 2015!

Love, hosaa
looking forward to whatever I'll see...

Art Therapy Day

Yeah, it's been a while. Other than seeing Travis Tritt at the Birchmere, which was really an excuse to see my cousin, I've been busy in my non-art life. I did try to see the Art Institute in Chicago when I got there last week for our conference, but it was blazingly hot. I got as far as the lobby and had to cool down. Then I saw the long line and the expensive ticket, and promised myself a day at our own (free) National Gallery of Art instead. So that was today.

The great thing about the National Gallery is that it's like visiting an old friend with new stories to tell. I never have to prepare in advance, and I always have a great time.

Today's new story was a treat, the massive Diaghilev and the Ballets Russes exhibition, subtitled "When Art Danced with Music." Of course, you can't take pictures in the special exhibitions, so go to the site, virtually or physically (closes October 6), and enjoy.

The Nijinsky room was where everyone clustered, of course, and just seeing photos of him in performance, in rehearsal, on tour, standing with Charlie Chaplin... oh my.

Do you realize that 100 years ago I could have seen Nijinsky set the ballet world on its head? Do you know what that means? I can't imagine what I should be seeing now that people will say, a hundred years from now, how they envied me for such a breathtaking opportunity. (At least I got to hear and see Clay Aiken perform live a whole bunch of times! Take that, future peeps.)

I'm running out of room in my teensy apartment for very expensive exhibition books, but here is a link in case you're interested: Diaghilev and the Ballets Russes, 1909-1929 (Hardcover, $60). I did get the DVD, a T-shirt, and a new biography of Nijinsky by Lucy Moore (Profile Books, 2013). And I even remembered not to try to whip out my Smithsonian membership card and ask for the 10% discount. National Gallery of Art is not a part of the Smithsonian.

So here are a few highlights of the rest of my visit with old friends and their new (to me) stories. I was particularly taken by the Calder room, with the lights and shadows of the whimsical mobiles.

Another one playing in the light and shadow was Giacometti's bronze Chariot (1950):

But the installation that really knocked me out was Bruce Nauman's incredible Fifteen Pairs of Hands (1996):

And from the irony-impaired caption writers, a reminder to keep your hands off the hands. *g*

Lots more photos to sort through; might post more later. Download as you wish; to save high-resolution version, right-click and open the images in a new tab, then click again to open large-size image. Right-click again and save. Please credit photos to: C. G. Wagner.

Love, hosaa,
A day well arted.