Favorite D.C. Places: Cherubs and Goose

Here are some cherubs strangling a goose. 

What did that goose ever do to those cherubs? 

This fountain is in one of the two main floor atriums in the National Gallery's West Building. The weirdness of the statue makes this atrium superior to its east wing counterpart, which is identical but for the blander fountain. I saw both statues last weekend, and I can’t remember what the other one is. It’s definitely not angels roughhousing with a goose. 

When taking visitors to the National Gallery, we always go to the rotunda, whose Italian marble pillars, dark floors, and Pantheon-inspired dome always get a "Wow." But the garden courts are cozier, and the skylights, greenery, and Goose and Cherubs put this particular indoor courtyard among my many favorite spots near the Mall. It’s a perfect place to hide from the weather, if you can soldier through the summer humidity or the dreary winter to get to the museum. The chairs around the atrium mean you can sit, people watch, eavesdrop, or read a book for as long as the museum is open. It’s full of light, it's free, the landscaping around the fountain changes every few months, and you’re surrounded by art.

And at least last weekend, it was relatively empty. The tourists were all lined up down the street at the Natural History and American History Museums. 

Some thoughts on making a mini-documentary

I just finished a six-week video production class and made a mini-documentary. Here it is!

My undergraduate degree is in photography, and thanks to Louisville, Not Kentucky, I also knew how to edit audio going into this project. In college, many of my friends (and my husband) studied film and video. I never got to video. I was probably afraid of it, and rightly so -- it’s all the worries of photography, combined with all the audio worries, plus the usual worry of hauling expensive, school-owned equipment on the metro and making sure it all works and is picking up the right things… it was an anxious six weeks. Of course, combining audio and photography also lets you do wonderful things you can’t do with stills and sound alone. And I’ve always enjoyed fiddling with something for hours until it’s perfect and I’m hungry and exhausted, so I loved having the opportunity to do that kind of creative work again. 

These oysters not shucked by Gardner Douglas. 

Some random lessons I learned (or remembered, because there are certainly transferable photo and audio lessons) during this process:

Like bourbon at a Kentucky wedding, you can never have enough b-roll.

Introduce yourself to people, even if you think they know who you are. 

Put your phone and metro card in different pockets. Otherwise, you might pull out your metro card with your phone, and it might fall into an open construction site behind a chain-link fence. 

You can eat farmed oysters outside of “R” months. 

Do not eat a warm oyster, especially when a nationally-ranked oyster shucker tells you he’s not going to eat it because it’s been sitting in the sun for an hour while you conduct an interview. There's a reason for serving oysters on ice. They're disgusting warm and raw. 

Tip your oyster shucker! 

The U.S. Oyster Festival takes place annually in Leonardtown, Maryland on the third weekend in October. Let's go. 

On Serendipitous Travel Moments, or Being in the Right Place at the Right Time

For one of the classes I’m auditing this semester, I’ve been reading Henry Brooks Adams’s autobiography, The Education of Henry Adams. Adams was the grandson and great-grandson of presidents, and though he worked as private secretary to his ambassador father, wrote, and taught at Harvard, in reading his autobiography, you get the sense that he never really did anything.  He did marry, and his wife, Marian (“Clover”) committed suicide by drinking photo developing chemicals. You don’t learn about this in his book, because he doesn’t mention Clover or her death at all. 

Although Adams didn’t talk about his wife’s death, he commissioned a statue in her memory (Atlas Obscura has a great post about the memorial). Today, you can visit the Adams Memorial at Rock Creek Cemetery in D.C. We spent a few days in Washington over our spring break. I thought about looking for the statue, but spent the time visiting museums and friends instead.

On our first day, we went to the Smithsonian American Art museum. On the second floor, we walked around a corner and there was a replica of the Adams Memorial. Had I read that Atlas Obscura post, or done any research beyond a quick Google maps search, I would have known this was here. Finding it by accident was more fun.

Replica of the creepy Adams Memorial.

On our first day, we went to the Smithsonian American Art museum. On the second floor, we walked around a corner and there was a replica of the Adams Memorial. Had I read that Atlas Obscura post, or done any research beyond a quick Google maps search, I would have known this was here. Finding it by accident was more fun.

A few years ago, I arrived in San Francisco for a work trip on the last day of the Garry Winogrand exhibition at SFMoMA. I dropped my bags at a friend’s and ran over there for the last few hours of the show. What I didn’t realize (because again, no planning) was that it was also the last day the art museum would be open for the next three years, so admission was free and there were activities (like hat making) happening around the building. I saw the Winogrand, and as the museum closed, watched a dance performance in the lobby.

I love incidents like this. I could have planned for either of them (we know I need to work on my planning). But if I figure out where the thing is, how to get to the thing, and if the thing will be open, that seems like enough planning ahead. I like going out to see what I can find — or what will find me.