Love nights and jazz notes at the Sculpture Garden

Another party night at the Sculpture Garden at the National Gallery of Art/Photo by Patricia Leslie

In the distance is the dome of the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History and beyond it, the top of the Washington Monument, seen from one of the entrances to the Sculpture Garden.   In the winter, the Sculpture Garden's center becomes an ice rink/Photo by Patricia Leslie

Shoes are not required at the Sculpture Garden at the National Gallery of Art.  And shirts?/Photo by Patricia Leslie

This is an impressionist painting of a veggie sandwich hanging at the Sculpture Garden at the National Gallery of Art/Photo by Patricia Leslie

Hidden love under a Chagall umbrella at the Sculpture Garden at the National Gallery of Art/Photo by Patricia Leslie

Incendio made music at the Sculpture Garden at the National Gallery of Art on July 31, 2015/Photo by Patricia Leslie

The amount of visible grass at the Sculpture Garden set a record for the summer.  (You have to attend to know what I mean.)  A guard told me the week before was packed, and we mused about the reason.  The salsa dancing?  He said people were dancing galore.  Center in the photo is Joan Miró's Personnage Gothique, Oiseau-Éclair (Gothic Personage, Bird-Flash), 1974, cast 1977, bronze, Gift of The Morris and  Gwendolyn Cafritz Foundation/Photo by Patricia Leslie

I can see clearly now the grass is there.
I can see all obstacles moved away.
Gone are the crowds that made me sad.
It's gonna be a bright (bright)
bright (bright) moonlighty night.
It's gonna be a bright (bright)
bright (bright) moonlighty night.

Oh, yes I can make it now the crowd is gone.
All of the bad feelings have disappeared.
Here is that seat I've been longing for.
It's gonna be a bright (bright)
bright (bright) moonlighty night.

(ooh...) Look all around, there's nothing but green grass.
Look straight ahead, there's nothing but green grass

This could be a park at the beach with a big, pink elephant to admire.  It was actually a lark in the park at the Sculpture Garden with Alexander Calder’s Cheval Rouge (Red Horse), 1974, on long-term loan from the Calder Foundation, New York/Photo by Patricia Leslie

Look at these beauts!  The latest in head fashion, newly arrived from Hermes for next year's entrants in New York City's Fifth Avenue Easter Parade/Photo by Patricia Leslie

Something which never changes at the Sculpture Garden's party nights:  the long line for the ladies room/Photo by Patricia Leslie

One last kiss, oh, baby, one last kiss, it never felt like this, oh, baby, not like this, you know I need your love, oh, oh, oh, oh, baby one last kiss at the Sculpture Garden at the National Gallery of Art/Photo by Patricia Leslie

This year is the 15th season of free sculptures in the jazz garden or free jazz in the Sculpture Garden (take your pick, they both are available) to be seen and heard on Friday evenings, now through the end of August at the National Gallery of Art's prized outdoor jewel.

Inside the gated community (outsider alcohol, verboten, with bag check) are fascinating sculptures to admire (both of the permanent and human varieties), live music to hear, and food and beverages to consume to launch the weekend celebration.   


Which sculpture is your favorite?  As you ponder the answer, you may settle on the meaning of life.  Stand at different corners of Roy Lichtenstein's House I (1996, fabricated 1998, fabricated and painted  aluminum, Gift of The Morris and Gwendolyn Cafritz Foundation) and watch it move.  What does it mean?  

Or consider Roxy Paine's Graft, (2008 – 2009, stainless steel and concrete, Gift of Victoria and Roger Sant) waving towards Capitol Hill.  It's easy to determine a meaning.

Last Friday night, it was not the band which stole the show, but the usual suspects:  the people, the scenery, the young, the old, the babies and bold were all on hand.  It's lots of fun. With lots of food and beverages to buy.  

Unless you bring your own chairs (which are allowed),  blankets, or towels, you may be standing, standing, standing, since unoccupied seating is not available unless you get there long before the opening bell.

Upon arrival I ducked in the cool (air conditioned) Pavilion Cafe to find just a few ahead of me in the food line, and my favorite dish, the hummus plate.  

I placed my order with the fellow behind the counter who skidded it across the counter top to me, and upon examination, I tossed it back:

"Where are my grape leaves? This is the wrong plate."

 "Oh," he said, "those were last year's menu.  I miss them, too."  So yesterday. 

Yesterday all my food plans since have gone astray,
Now the menu is in serious decay,

          And I may have to eat at the Subway

Suddenly I'm not as excited as I used to be.
There's a leaf hanging over me.
Oh, yesterday came suddenly.

Why grape leaves had to go, I don't know, no one would say.
They made dinner gong, and I long for yesterday.

Yesterday, eating hummus was such a holiday

       Now I found a place to hide away 
       Which may be on the dreaded subway 

And this was heard in passing:


Where have all the grape leaves gone, long time passing?
Where have all the grape leaves gone, long time ago?
Where have all the grape leaves gone?
Menu planners got them everyone.
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
 
With drooped shoulders and a sadness that only grape leaves could shatter, I made my way to the sweltering outdoors and the line for bar-be-cue.  And beer.

Alas!  No lite on draft!  Only Stella.  Pullease.

And no place to sit.  

Ho hummus, I bought some bar-be-cue.  (Honestly, these Nawrtherners don't know what bar-be-cue is. Have they ever been to the Saoyuth and tasted bar-be-cue?)

In a roped-off area, a guard stood on a stone wall where a fellow sat smoking near the constantly long line for the ladies room, and with the guard's permission, I sat down to eat.  No problems. Not even smoke got in my eyes.

But, Sculpture Garden:  Why so few seats?  I declare the number of bars at your party has doubled, and it does seem like seats have been removed to fit more people inside the province.

Sculpture Garden:  Have you ever been to the South and sat in grass and later discovered you've been devoured by invisible chiggers?  The aggravation lasts about five days, and you have to scratch in the most private of parts!  Once done, you will never sit in grass again, I don't care if it's plastic grass the Inuit have planted for decoration in Nunavut.

Sculpture Garden:  I do not sit in grass.  But, I do have a suggestion for a new sales item for your Friday night gigs:  towels for rent.


Party people, hurry!  There are not many Friday weekends left (4) before summer fun ceases, and soon, it will be brown and dull winter when the temperature may drop to minus 30, and we shall be frozen solid in our winter tombs.  Better to enjoy life now while we've got it!  

 Who: 
August 7   – Miles Stiebel (jazz violin)
August 14 – Origem (Brazilian jazz)
August 21 – Seth Kibel (clarinet)
August 28 – Afro Bop Alliance (Latin jazz)

When:  5 - 8:30 p.m. every Friday through August 28, 2015 (During the summer, the Sculpture Garden opens every day at 10 a.m. (11 a.m., Sunday) and closes at 7 p.m.)

Where:  The Sculpture Garden, National Gallery of Art, between Seventh and Ninth streets at Constitution Avenue, N.W., Washington, D.C. On the Mall.  

Admission: No charge, but you may want to bring some coins for drinks and treats.

Metro stations: Smithsonian, Federal Triangle, Navy Memorial-Archives.

For more information: 202-289-3360.  And/or check 
www.nga.gov/jazz for the latest information.

patricialesli@gmail.com