by Wilson F. Fang
My first visit to Washington D.C. took place exactly a week after I got back from my first visit to Italy. When I asked friends who'd been there what I should see and do in our nation's capital, the reply was almost unanimous: "Don't miss the Washington Mall!" This was a mite disappointing. I was looking more for insider tips on, say, how to inveigle an invitation to dinner at the White House, the best way to score a seat beside Katharine Graham at a Kennedy Center gala, or where to eat so I could eavesdrop on conversations involving highly sensitive national issues.
But the Washington Mall is well known for being the site of the Smithsonian Institution museums and the National Gallery. And at the time of my visit, museum hopping was certainly nowhere near the top of my list. After all, in the week and a half I spent in Italy, I had gone to about a dozen different museums and galleries, along with stops at nearly every major cultural and historical landmark in Rome, Florence, Pisa, and Venice. Having spent time soaking in the exhibits in places as varied as the exemplary Vatican Collections, the legendary Galleria Borghese in Rome, and Venice's storied Doge's Palace, I thought, "Nothing could possibly top that."
I was wrong.
I was standing in front of the National Gallery of Art's Leonardo da Vinci portrait, Ginevra de' Benci, the only work by the quintessential Renaissance man on display in North America, when realization hit me. After two or so hours spent wandering through the halls of what is arguably America's premier repository of art, I saw more paintings by Raphael, Tintoretto, Veronese, and other Italian Masters than I did the entire time I was in Italy. Add this to their collection of works by nearly every major European and American artist, and one is almost overcome with simultaneous emotions of awe and sensory overload. I can only imagine how a tourist visiting from, say, Italy would feel upon touring the Gallery and seeing all the great Italian art on display. Would he feel pride in the artistic achievements of his countrymen? A tinge of bitterness at the fact that these examples of national patrimony were so far away from home? Perhaps some annoyance that someone like me was standing next to him grinning smugly as I mumbled, "Hah! Our national gallery can kick your national gallery's ass!"
Best of all, just as in many of the great museums in other parts in other parts of the world, admission to the National Gallery is free. Which is important if you want to save your money for the goodies sold at the Gallery's gift shop in the basement. European paintings and sculpture from the thirteenth through the sixteenth centuries, American art, and temporary exhibits can all on be found on the Main Floor of the original building, now known as the West Building. One should prepare to devote an entire afternoon, at the very least, in order properly to take in the displays in this wing. Otherwise, you end up doing what I did, running from the Constable and Turner landscapes in the British galleries, to the American ones to view the Eakins and Sargents and Whistlers, then over to the Vermeers and the Hals in the Dutch galleries, ad infinitum ad absurdum I'moutofbreathum. In other words, it becomes more an exercise in "Let's see how many masterworks I can see in the time it takes to write this sentence" and less in actually taking time to appreciate the nuances of each piece. And there are certainly a lot of exceptional pieces to be seen here. Hey, if we're gonna be smug whenever we stand next to some European visitor aghast that a considerable number of the best paintings by his or her country's top artists are hanging in our museum, we might as well see all the artwork that we have good reason to be smug about.
If you have some extra time, you can also pay a visit to the East Building, which houses temporary exhibitions, as well as special works from the modern and contemporary collections. The building itself is also worth a look-see, with the immense towers connected by crisscrossing bridges adding a very dramatic feel to the space. The I.M. Pei-designed structure, with its sharp, triangular shapes, provides a worthy counterpoint to the original Gallery building, built in 1941, with its formal, foursquare forms. If the weather's nice, you can also drop by the Sculpture Garden, located on the opposite side of the West Building. Spread over 6 acres of carefully-manicured grounds are works by the likes of Roy Lichtenstein, Claes Oldenburg, and other contemporary sculptors that are quite interesting to behold. And obviously sturdy enough to withstand the muggy summers and the freezing winters of Washington D.C.
And the National Gallery is but one of the highlights of the Washington Mall. Most of the other museums on the Mall are actually part of the famed Smithsonian Institution, which boasts of over 140 million artifacts and specimens in its collections. The nine that are located on the mall, all of which generously also do not charge admission, are the Air and Space Museum, the Hirshhorn Museum, the Arts and Industries Museum, the African Art Museum, the Sackler Gallery, the Freer, the international gallery at the Ripley Center, the American History Museum, and the National History Museum. In addition, the Renwick Gallery and American Art Museum are located a few blocks away, though I didn't get to visit either one, because the American Art Museum is closed for renovation until 2004, and I was too lazy to walk to the Renwick Gallery. One should also not miss the Smithsonian Castle, which was completed in 1855 and was the original home of the Institution. The James Renwick-designed, Norman-style structure houses within its red sandstone walls the Smithsonian Information Center, as well the crypt of James Smithson, benefactor of the Smithsonian.
Despite the physical and mental fatigue I felt after my visit to the National Gallery, I did manage to work up enough energy to visit were the Air and Space Museum, the Freer Gallery, and the American History Museum. All of which were most certainly worth the time, calluses on my feet, and the crowds I had to wade through at nearly every one I went to.
The National Air and Space Museum is a grand showcase for American achievements in air and space technology. The austere pink marble building, designed by noted Japanese-American architect Gyo Obata, first opened its doors in 1976. And once through its doors, your attention is immediately drawn to the history-making flying machines hanging from the ceiling. The Wright Flyer is here, juxtaposed with the Ryan NYP "Spirit of St. Louis" that Lindbergh flew solo across the Atlantic, with the Apollo 11 Command Module situated just a few feet away. Certainly a grand way to introduce the museum's unparalleled collection of flight-related memorabilia. Just be careful not to bump into the 374,906 other people in the lobby, all walking around while looking up with mouth agape.
There are 23 different galleries to choose from, each focused on a different area of aviation, such as Jet Aviation or the Space Race. There are also a few temporary exhibitions that (naturally) focus on flying and/or space, such as "Star Wars: The Magic of Myth." You can also play with various interactive displays, such as one that allows you to manipulate a camera that looks into the Apollo Lunar Module. For most of us, this is about as close as we'll get to a trip to the moon. Once you get tired of looking at all the legendary flying machines on display here (or fighting the mob inside the museum), you can wander outside, as I did, sit on a bench in front of the entrance and watch planes zigzag their way across the sky as they track the Potomac on their way to landing at National Airport.
A couple of hundred feet away from the Air and Space is the Freer Gallery, whose collection is about as far removed from the Air and Space Museum's exhibits as, say the Great Wall of China is from Chicago's O'Hare airport. Founded by wealthy Detroit industrialist Charles Freer, here the focus is on paintings, sculptures, ceramics, and other art forms from Asia, ranging from the shores of the Mediterranean to the islands of Japan. All of which are housed in a formal-looking granite and marble Italian Renaissance-style building, designed by noted American architect Charles Platt. The Gallery first opened its doors in 1923, and was the first Smithsonian museum dedicated solely to Fine Arts.
Within its walls are masterpieces such as Chinese paintings and ceramics, Persian manuscripts, and Southeast Asian Buddhist sculptures. One particularly memorable, if rather off-theme, highlight is the famed Peacock Room, a dining room decorated by the American painter James McNeill Whistler (who, to the best of my knowledge, is certainly not Asian) in 1876 with a dazzling, Oriental-ish blue and gold peacock scheme. Once part of a London townhouse, the room was disassembled and installed in the Freer upon the owner's death. A fate my current dining room, decorated with a bubbling tabletop fountain and brass-framed abstract posters by anonymous artists, is probably never going to share.
The Freer is connected to the neighboring Sackler Gallery, which also focuses on Asian art, by an underground exhibition space. If time allows, the Sackler, which opened in 1987 to house the bequest of over 1,000 pieces from the collection of New York physician Arthur M. Sackler, is worth a visit. Both galleries, perhaps due to the mature, contemplative nature of the objects on display, are blessedly free of the crowds and atmosphere of manic mayhem that seem to be a hallmark of some of the other Smithsonian museums. So it's perfect for when you've heard your last screaming toddler and want somewhere to appreciate fine art in peace.
Across the Mall from the Freer is the renowned National Museum of American History. If ever you were to feel your patriotism flagging, this would be the perfect place to go. Within its rose-white Tennessee marble walls lie such favorites as the original Star Spangled Banner, whose restoration is currently the focus of a popular exhibit, the inaugural ball gowns of the First Ladies, and the stainless steel Jose de Rivera sculpture Infinity revolving nearly imperceptibly at the Museum's entrance. Causing many a clueless individual to remark, in evident surprise, "Look! It's turning!" Yessiree, Bob, it most certainly is! Which is more than I can say for the gears in your head. But I digress.…
The American History museum is again one of those place where you need at least an afternoon to properly take in all that is on display. In the first place, there is the sheer number of things to see and do--from the learning about 19th century American life in the "Communities in a Changing Nation" exhibit to admiring the swoopy Tucker automobile in the Road Transportation room to mailing a postcard from the restored 19th-century country post office that still serves as an actual postal facility. Just be prepared for throngs of people around the more popular pieces, such as the John Bull locomotive or, strangely enough, Archie Bunker's chair.
While there were more museums to visit, I had had enough intellectual stimulation for a while, and decided to go for a decidedly less culturally lofty, but no less fun, experience. I bought a hotdog from an itinerant vendor, stuffed the shopping bags filled with souvenirs from all the museum stores I had hit into my backpack, and walked up the Mall to the Washington Monument. Strolling beneath leafy cherry trees, watching people of all nationalities walk around you, with the granite obelisk of the Washington Monument standing stark against the bright blue sky, is a pleasure just as enjoyable as anything to be seen inside the world-class museums all around you. Such is the pleasure I found in my first visit to the Washington Mall, and such is the reason why I hope to be back at the Mall as soon as I can make it back to the Capital. Which will happen, hopefully, as soon as I figure out how to get that invitation to dinner from the White House.
