Free Lafayette Square concert January 9

Marvin Mills at Riverside Church, 2003

 

Marvin Mills, concert organist, will play at St. John's Church, Lafayette Square in a 30-minute performance beginning at 12:10 p.m. Wednesday, and the public is invited.

On the program is Avec une touche Francaise, with works by Saint-Saens, Widor, Durufle, Litaize, and Dupre.  The presentation is part of the church's "First Wednesday" series.

Mills is organist for St. Paul's United Methodist Church in Kensington, Maryland, and music director for the National Spiritual Ensemble.  He has performed at the Kennedy Center, The Academy of Music in Philadelphia, the Barns at Wolf Trap, and with choral groups and symphonies throughout the U.S. In a weekly series of 14 programs at All Soul's Church Unitarian in Washington, Mills played the complete organ works of Johann Sebastian Bach.

 St. John's, Lafayette Square/patricia leslie

 

Other noontime concerts in the First Wednesday series at St. John's are:

Feb. 6: Soloists from St. John's Choir

Mar. 6: Bianca Garcia, flute, assisted by Michael Lodico, organist, featuring the world premiere of a work by Stephen Cabell

Apr. 3: Benjamin Hutto, director of music ministry and organist, St. John's, performing "Organ Treasure Old and New"

May 1: Alvy Powell, bass-baritone and Gershwin interpreter

June 5: Jeremy Filsell, Washington National Cathedral Artist-in-Residence, performing organ works by Bach, Dupre, and Rachmaninov

St. John's, known to many Washington residents as the yellow church on Lafayette Square, is often called the “Church of the Presidents.” Beginning with James Madison, who was president from 1809 to 1817, every president has either been a member of, or has attended services at St. John's, including President Barack Obama and his family. A plaque at the rear of the church designates the Lincoln pew where President Abraham Lincoln sat when he often stopped by St. John's during the Civil War.

Who:  Marvin Mills, concert organist

When: 12:10 p.m., January 9, 2013

Where: St. John’s, Lafayette Square, 1525 H Street, NW, at the corner of 16^th, Washington, D.C. 20005

How much: No charge

Duration: About 35 minutes

Wheelchair accessible

Metro stations: McPherson Square or Farragut North

For more information: 202-347-8766

patricialesli@gmail.com

'Les Miz' singing leaves you miserables

Universal Pictures

Really.

It's atrocious.

Somewhat like Meryl Streep and Pierce Brosnan trying to sing in Mamma Mia, only much worse.

But this is an opera.

But not for opera fans. 

It's a Les Miz nut flick, as in, only the dedicated need bear arms and go.  What you see on stage should remain on stage.  The producers of Phantom of the Opera were able to bring that one off stage quite successfully.  Not this one.

At the movie house, there was so much outbound traffic in the lane (aisle) beside me, it was like the wall had been removed, and we were suddenly exposed to Lee Highway.  (Were moviegoers leaving for restroom breaks?  Popcorn?  But few made it back.)

Why do movie producers hire actors who can't sing?  Is this the fad du jour?  I don't understand.  There aren't any actors left who can belt out a tune?

Anne Hathaway (Fantine) and  Hugh Jackman (Jean Valjean) sang solos lasting about 30 minutes each with no other visuals but close-ups of their faces, and it was tiresome.  After about 30 seconds. It was like a talent show at the elementary school you are forced to attend to see your neighbor's youngest perform, but Amanda Sue would have been more entertaining.  But not to go overboard.

Speaking of...on a bridge over troubled waters (sorry), Russell Crowe (Javert) sang and walked for so long, the Seine almost dried up and the vultures came out. 

Not everything was lackluster.  Take the aerials, for instance.

And some of the voices were downright good, like Amanda Seyfried's (Cosette), Samatha Barks's (Eponine), and Eddie Redmayne's (Marius). And thank goodness for Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter (M/M Thenardier) who provided much needed comic relief. 
 
Helena Bonham Carter and Sasha Baron Cohen are hilarious in Les Miserables/Universal Pictures


Folks, the new Angelika Theater in Merrifield is great, but at $13 a pop, the movie had better be great (or near great). Please, spare me any more musicals which should remain on stage and nothing more.  Thank you.

A Metro serenade

The Rev. Fisher Yang sang on the Orange Line on New Year's Eve/patricia leslie

On New Year’s Eve I was a passenger on an Orange Line train from Virginia which the Rev. Fisher Yang, 50, of Centreville, Virginia, boarded around Ballston, I think it was. Mr. Yang is the man you may have read about who sings Christmas hymns out loud on the Metro.

Last month the Washington Post ran a somewhat negative story (surprise!) about Mr. Yang and the riders whom Mr. Yang annoys.

Mr. Yang sang for us, too. I welcomed his presence and song.

How nice to have someone take enough interest in us to sing, we the forgotten, the lonely workers off to plow our trade on a day when most others were still celebrating the holidays. We, the silent and expressionless, slumped in depression, and sad about what lay ahead.

With the exception of a woman in a red coat who expressed irritation and asked him to stop singing, the rest of us began to brighten.  We smiled and nodded at Mr. Yang and each other and listened.

He brought a fresh perspective to our trip. He cast a new light on another day. His singing was pleasant, and certainly his words gave pause to listeners about praise and thanksgiving. Thanks to God for the gifts we take for granted.

When Mr. Yang finished several verses, he waved his finger at the rude woman as he exited the train and said: “You need to have an open mind.”

She made some nasty remark about his voice before she disembarked a few minutes later at Foggy Bottom, perhaps on her way to work at a South American embassy, perhaps for a nation which does not tolerate free speech.

Amazingly, three days later Mr. Yang boarded my train again, this time at West Falls Church, and like on Monday, he asked for attention before he sang a hymn about "I Surrender."  The car was much more crowded, SRO, but the riders remained silent and respectful; no one complained, and many clapped when Mr. Yang finished and got off at East Falls Church.

The Rev. Fisher Yang was singing three days later on the Orange Line/patricia leslie

I admired Mr. Yang’s bravery in the face of ridicule. Can you take a public stand for what you believe in?

Thank you, Mr. Yang, for bringing attention to the gifts we often ignore and take for granted. Thanks to God for people like you.

patricialesli@gmail.com

 

Live music drives 'Nutcracker' fans to Manassas

Manassas Ballet Theatre's 2012 production of The Nutcracker/2011, B. Payden Photography, LLC

 

It's sad that in Washington, D.C., live music accompanied only two ballet companies for their 2012 Nutcracker performances, and one was 30 miles away.

 
Peter Tchaikovsky's Christmas ballet was played on tape for the rest of the dances that I found, including the Washington Ballet's production at the Warner Theatre which Sarah Kaufman criticized in a Washington Post article.
 
The sounds from a junior high or high school orchestra would be preferable to tape.
 
The only companies featuring live orchestras were Ballet West at the Kennedy Center and the Manassas Ballet Theatre at the Hylton Performing Arts Center on the Prince William campus of George Mason University. Please correct me if I am wrong, and an abbreviated production is not the same.  

Yes, it cost more money to have real music. Yes, it is worth it.

 
For some Tchaikovsky enthusiasts, music is more important than ballet which may partially explain the consistent sell-out crowds in Manassas and why about half the audience came from outside Prince William and Loudoun counties, according to a show of hands at intermission requested by Mark Wolfe, the company's executive director.
 
It was worth every mile for the hike out to Manassas to listen. And to see.

Sara Gaydash and Aleksey Kudrin in Manassas Ballet Theatre's 2012 production of The Nutcracker/2011, B. Payden Photography, LLC

Manassas has its very own Manassas Ballet Theatre Orchestra, under the direction of Christopher Hite, to help it put on a really big, but charming, show.

 
Not only did real music add sparkle to an evening's enchantment, but the many young, adorable dancers added magic to the professionals' performances.

Manassas Ballet Theatre's 2012 production of The Nutcracker/2011, B. Payden Photography, LLC

 

It seemed like hundreds of little mice and rats swarmed the stage, costumed (Christina Brooks and Donna Huffman Pelot) in grey outfits from head to toe with long tails and rats' heads, dancing in fast, curving lines, and whoops, there goes a fallen mouse, but not to mind. Other opportunities soon presented themselves to upright topsy-turvy.

Manassas Ballet Theatre's 2012 production of The Nutcracker/2011, B. Payden Photography, LLC

 

Other stars of the show were, naturally, Bethany Cooke ("Clara") enjoying her first season with the Manassas company, Margaret Hannah (the Sugar Plum Fairy), Joshua Burnham (the Nutcracker), Sara Gaydash (the Snow Queen), Aleksey Kudrin (the Snow King), William Smith (the Mouse King) and, with Kathryn Carlson, (the Russians).

Bethany Cooke ("Clara") in Manassas Ballet Theatre's 2012 production of The Nutcracker/2011, B. Payden Photography, LLC

William Smith and Kathryn Carlson in Manassas Ballet Theatre's 2012 production of The Nutcracker/2011, B. Payden Photography, LLC

 
At intermission Mr. Wolfe was effusive in his praise of Macy's sponsorship whose divisional manager was invited onstage to address the audience as "you guys." 

The advertisement did not detract from the entertaining evening which introduced many first-timers to excellent quality, surprising for a town with a population right under 40,000, and just down the road from many things to do in Washington, D.C.


patricialesli@gmail.com

Augsburg Renaissance art exits Dec. 31

Hieronymus Hopfer, active c. 1520-1550 or after, Personification of Rome, National Gallery of Art, Ailsa Mellon Bruce Fund, 2000

It's an enlightening show at the National Gallery of Art, certainly required viewing by every area Renaissance and German student of language and/or German history, with 103 prints, drawings and illustrated books spanning 65 years and providing rich background and renderings about the nation and the widening influence of the Renaissance.

Around 85 percent of the pieces come from the National Gallery's collection in this first exhibition of its kind in the U.S. about Augsburg.

The city, named for Roman Emperor Augustus, is one of Germany's oldest, and the range of the show (1475-1540) captures the beginning of its golden age.  Augsburg was a military fortress before it became a Roman capital province, and its location at the confluence of two rivers in Bavaria was critical to its trade and cultural success, stimulating its vast commercial partnership with Italy and other important areas.

Among its citizenry and leaders, the arts commanded enthusiastic audiences, including that of Holy Roman Emperor Maximilian I (1459-1519) who spent so much time in Augsburg he was called honorary mayor.  The exhibition exemplifies his dominance in the city which housed seven convents.

Facing visitors entering the last gallery of the show is a detailed drawing of a magnificent Maximilian long carriage drawn by horses heavily decked in royal dress, almost lifelike with the prancing and pawing of each little (big) hoof, if you hear what I hear.

Albrecht Durer (1471-1528), detail from The Triumphal Chariot of Maximilian I, 1522, National Gallery of Art, Rosenwald Collection, 1943

Albrecht Durer (1471-1528), The Triumphal Chariot of Maximilian I, 1522, woodcut on eight joined sheets, National Gallery of Art, Rosenwald Collection, 1943

A "must see" in the show, especially for tempted lovers, is Death interrupting a couple and seizing the man’s entrails from his throat and hanging on to the woman’s skirt with his teeth as she tries to flee.  For new material, movie producers of horror should have a look.  Gruesome

In an earlier gallery women are shown as the beguiler of the beguiled, and things have not changed.  Let's strike them all down dead before any more harm can come.  (See India, December 29, 2012.) 

Christoph Bockstorfer (1490-1553), The Death of Virginia, c. 1525, National Gallery of Art.  Here a father stabs his daughter to death because death is preferable to disgrace, as in Egypt, Lebanon, Yemen, Turkey, Pakistan, Morocco, Syria, and other nations, according to a 2002 UN report. 

Where is a rendering of a man admiring his own person in the looking glass while Death lurks in the background?  Perhaps a female artist of the period would have reversed the gender of the subject, had she been allowed. 

Daniel Hopfer (c. 1470-1536), Woman and Attendant Surprised by Death, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Elisha Whittelsey Collection


Is there a Woman's Bible as in Adam was the one who communicated with the snake and ate the apple, and Jesus and other leading figures were women?  In 1895 and 1896 a Woman's Bible was published by crusaders Lucretia Mott, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Lucy Stone, and Susan B. Anthony challenging the traditional orthodoxy that women should be subservient to men.  Not exactly what I am thinking about, but it's time for a new edition where men are subservient to women.  Let the Renaissance of Women flourish!  (You see what art can do.)

Hans Burgkmair I (1473-1531), Samson and Delilah, 1519, National Gallery of Art, Rosenwald Collection, 1943

In the first-of-its-kind catalogue available in the shops, Augsburg and Renaissance history is detailed, along with essays by the show's curators, Gregory Jecmen of the National Gallery of Art, and Freyda Spira of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, and many illustrations.

From Washington the exhibition travels next fall to the University of Texas at Austin and then to Vassar College.  A grant from the Thaw Charitable Trust and contributions from Gene and Clare Thaw have made the presentation possible.

What:  Imperial Augsburg:  Renaissance Prints and Drawings, 1475-1540

When:  This exhibition closes on New Year's Eve.  The Gallery is open every day from 10 a.m. - 5 p.m., and on Sunday, 11 a.m. - 6 p.m.  The Gallery is closed on New Year's Day

Where:  Ground floor galleries in the West Building, National Gallery of Art, between 4th and 7th and Constitution Avenue, N.W., Washington, D.C.

How much:  No charge

For more information:  202-737-4215

Metro stations:  Judiciary Square, Navy Memorial-Archives, or the Smithsonian

patricialesli@gmail.com

 

All I got for Christmas was a 2013 Camaro

A yellow 2013 Camaro like mine. (Please see photo below.) Does it not remind you of an angry, smiling (?) tiger ready to gobble you up?/General Motors

 

At the car rental desk Christmas Eve, the agent took quite a long time doing my paperwork.  Hmmmmm, I wondered, what's up?

He said something about gas mileage, and I said “Oh, it’s no never mind. I’m not going far. I can handle it.”

 

I always rent the smallest, cheapest car I can get, and Christmas was no different.

Down the counter was another customer talking with an agent who told him the only vehicle left was a pick-up truck.

 “A pick-up truck?” asked the customer incredulously. “What’s it look like?”

 “It’s a pick-up truck.” said the agent. “It looks like a pick-up truck. It acts like a pick-up truck.  It drives like a pick-up truck. What do you think it looks like?" At that time of day and without cars to rent, the hired help could be surly.

 "It seats four.”

The guy took it.

This was the Orlando International Airport, after all, where car rentals are at a premium at Christmastime, what with all the tourists from the brrrrr north coming down to partake of Disney World and all the other area worlds.

 

I had not even plucked down any money on my credit card to make my reservation ahead of time, but I was a past customer which might have helped. This was E-Z Car Rental, far cheaper than the big name rental companies. I go for the cut-rate deals.

And I got one!

For the cut-rate “economy” price, how would you like a brand new with temporary tag, bright yellow 2013 Camaro? I ain’t talkin’ no wispy Williamsburg dainty yellow. I am talking SCREAMING bright yellow. As in Sun Yellow, the kind that blinds you when you look at it.  (GM calls it "Rally Yellow," and it costs more to get it!)

Would you go for that, sister? Would you? Could you?  Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat! I was supposed to drive it?

 

The car had more many lights, push buttons, and turning knobs than a 747, and I would know since I’ve driven neither.

It had a camera which showed you what was behind you when you backed-up and it beeped at you if you got too close to anything, and sent messages if the area was unsafe. “Be mindful of your surroundings” or something like that. Whew!

The windows in the back seat (a two-door) were smaller than Little Caesar’s pizza slices, in other words, non-functional for a driver like me who uses them constantly to change lanes and who can't see to drive at night. 

Yes, it was night, but fortunately, in Orlando, Florida, the lights never go out since it’s always party-time, and I was hoping no dragster would challenge me to a race on Interstate 4 like what happened to me in Colorado when I was driving my son’s Z a few years back.

In the Camaro I was unable to find the button or clip or anything on the rearview mirror to dim the cars’ lights behind me since I can't see to drive at night, but I did spot three little buttons on the bottom of the mirror (!) and pressed the red one.

The radio was blaring, and the name of the artist and the song showed on the television screen (!) below the radio, and you could select the type of music you wanted to scan (jazz, blues, classics, HEAT (?)).  Cool. I could get used to this, but this noise conflicted with the man’s voice which immediately spoke to me from somewhere….the ceiling? A phone? The cloud. It must have been the cloud.

“Hello,” he said. “This is OnStar. How may I help you?”

I had not mastered the art of turning down the radio volume being that it was night and I can't see to drive at night, and the dash was a blur while I cruised the highway, trying to figure out where the lanes were. 

Uuuhhhhhh, uhhhhhhh, I stammered. I was just trying to figure out how to drive the car since it’s a rental and that’s okay, I can figure it out, I told him, fearing E-Z Car Rental would charge me $50 for the call.

The Camaro had stereo sound and a phone logo on the rear-view mirror, too, which I am certain made telephone calls upon command. I was afraid to press and find out ($50?). The car probably had a coffee maker which dispensed Starbux, but again, I was afraid to push any more buttons since talking heads were coming out of the upholstery and floorboards. There was likely a microwave, but I never found it. I know there was Internet somewhere.

 

Besides, it was time to check in to my cut-rate motel where I was immediately shocked throughout my body once I got to my room and reached up under the lamp shade to turn on the light and stuck my fingers in a broken socket.  Pop!  Crack!  Bang!  Sizzle, sizzle was the music my body made all right night (it rhymes).  The motel was rather unusual since "guests" roamed around the halls and lobby in bare feet and at breakfast, came down in their pajamas.  Actually, I think Kayak got the place mixed up with a mental ward and somehow I got in.

With rental cars, it always takes me the longest time to figure out how to open the gas gauge to insert fuel. So when I slid in the car the next morning (only too glad to find it in one piece without damage by the patients in the scary parking lot which the Camaro did not like one bit, beeping about the lack of a secure neighborhood), I remembered to look for that blooming button to pop open the gas gauge, but it was nowhere, and I was too afraid to push buttons. The roof might fly off and then where would I be?

The manual?  The manual?  Who takes time to read a manual? Well, duh!

I called E-Z which did not return my call.

One of the other buttons on the rearview mirror was blue so I pressed it, and immediately another male answered: “This is car service” or something like that. “How may I help you?” (Do you have escort service? Just kidding! Hahahahaha.)

Uhhhh, uhhhhh, I stammered. I am trying to find the button to open the gas gauge. Do you know where it is? “No," he said, "but I can connect you with GM.” Oh, that’s okay, I said, fearing a $50 charge to talk with GM. Maybe the fee would be doubled since it was Christmas.

I drove to my sister’s who called her neighbors to announce a space ship had landed in her yard.

The neighbors came right over, being males and all excited about cars (who cares?), but they couldn’t find the gas gauge pop button either.

We all circled the car and went round and round, and my sister says “Here it is!” pointing to the gas gauge. I know where the gas gauge is, I said, but where’s the button to open it? She pressed on the bright yellow circle. Voila! Open, sesame. Big deal!

It is scary to drive a new car and worry about hitting something or something hitting you. I never exceeded the speed limit although the engine wanted to run.

 

Later, my son said: “I don’t suppose it had manual shift, did it?” 

 

No.

 

“How much horsepower?”

 

This car runs on an engine, I told him. Horses had nothing to do with it. 

There was nobody happier to turn a car loose than I was at the rental return. The gas mileage was really not bad, and thank goodness, E-Z did not charge me for all those phone calls. Give me an economical, dented old car any day, but at E-Z, they treat you right. Highly recommended!

 

My 2013 Camaro/patricia leslie

 

 
All I want for Christmas is a yellow spaceship

A yellow space ship

A yellow spaceship

All I want for Christmas is a yellow spaceship

So I can race….down the interstate!

Michelangelo's 'David-Apollo' arrives for President Obama's inauguration

Michelangelo Buonarroti (Italian, 1475-1564), David-Apollo, c. 1530, marble, Museo Nazionale del Bargello, Florence

 

 

Not only to celebrate President Obama's second inauguration but to herald a year of Italian splendor and culture in the U.S. to the tune of more than 180 events in 40+ U.S. cities, a statue with its very own mystery has come to Washington, again.

At the National Gallery of Art, His Excellency Giulio Terzi di Sant'Agata, Italian minister of foreign affairs, and Ann Stock from the U.S. State Department, shared the platform with David-Apollo/patricia leslie

To begin:

  

Like many of us, Michelangelo (1475-1564) was not totally pleased with some of his work.  He abandoned many pieces he started and never finished (non-finito).

Sometimes he accepted more work than he was able to complete. He was an Italian Renaissance man.

Fortunately, Michelangelo didn’t pitch his incomplete pieces in the fire, but many were spared, like his David-Apollo, now on view at the National Gallery of Art through the graces of the Italian government and the lending institution, Museo Nazionale del Bargello in Florence.

But the marble statue has two names split by a hyphen. What is the meaning of this? Is it David or Apollo or both? Only the creator knew for sure.

Michelangelo’s biographer, Giorgio Vasari, called the statue “an Apollo who draws an arrow from his quiver,” however, a 1553 inventory labeled the work, "an incomplete David" with his sling over his back.

The figure's pose is serpentinata which invites viewers to circle David-Apollo and observe different components where surprises may be found on each sequence which makes the ambiguity more alluring.

Take David-Apollo's legs, for example.

Wikipedia mixes them up saying the right leg is extended when it’s the left, and the left leg (actually, the right) is bent over what may be a pile of dirt, or Goliath’s head, which, once the idea is mentally carved, is hard to escape, and adds support to the David argument. (The National Gallery of Art has its own marble David, (c.1461/1479), this one by Bernardo (1409-1464) or Antonio Rossellino (1427-1478-1481; they were brothers) with David’s foot resting on Goliath's head. Maybe Michelangelo copied this statue?)  (Some of these facts and more are found in the handsome four-page color brochure available at the David-Apollo statue.)

Stand at David-Apollo's left side and look under his right foot for the semblance of a male head's silhouette with nose and facial features facing up, and, honestly, yes, due to the power of suggestion, sometimes it's there; sometimes, it's not.  (Honestly, this happens.) However, make your spiral galaxy over to the other side where you'll find no hint of a person's face or head in the mound found under his foot, but what is this new form?  A circular mound of something. A pound of Earth?

The same year Michelangelo brought David-Apollo to life was the same year (1530) that Copernicus (1473-1543), another Renaissance man (and artist who studied in Italy), unveiled his De revolutionibus orbium coelestium which claimed that Earth was not the center of the universe, but it rotated on its axis and traveled around the sun once a year.

With his foot resting (maybe) on the Earth, is David-Apollo squashing flat the 1,400 year-old Ptolemaic theory which claimed that Earth was the center of the universe? Just a few astronomers at the time were aware of Copernicus’s theory and information exchange over long distances was quite limited (I dare say: rare) for the Renaissance preceded Social Media Daze. (Does this not make for the plot of a great mystery novel? You write it.)

Another angle: One glimpse of his leg muscles and the possibility that David-Apollo, in his spare time, may have been a danseur, swells. (That female hearts will not be captured by the looks of David-Apollo when gazing upon his person is almost an impossibility, and the figure may mesmerize a few men, too.)

You are invited to make your own comparisons and determine who is there: David or Apollo? Both? Be prepared to go round and round. (A ballot box for votes is not available, however, the guards are there to prohibit picture taking.)

To inaugurate 2013 as The Year of Italian Culture in the U.S. (but I thought every year was a year of Italian culture in the U.S.), David-Apollo will reside at the National Gallery of Art just off the West Building Courtyard (where the Sunday evening concerts are played) until March 3, 2013, marking the first time the statue has come to town since another inauguration, Harry S Truman’s in 1949 when almost 800,000 came calling.

Whoever, whatever is there, the people of the United States are grateful to the president of Italy, the Italian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Embassy of Italy in Washington, the Minister per I Beni e le Attivita Culturali and the National Gallery of Art for the grand opportunity to observe the masterpiece at no cost to the people, a loan which memorializes the long-lasting friendship between the two nations.

Viva l'amicizia!

Programs:

January 3, 5, 7, and 9, 2013 at 12 p.m., West Building, talks by Eric Denker, a Gallery senior lecturer

January 27, 2 p.m. "Michelangelo's David-Apollo:  An Offer He Couldn't Refuse," East Building Auditorium by Alison Luchs, the Gallery's curator of early European sculpture, who wrote the brochure

February 11 at 3 p.m., an overview at the Embassy of Italy of the collection of Michelangelo's works at the Casa Buonarroti by its director, Pina Ragionieri

  

Who: David-Apollo by Michelangelo

What: To celebrate 2013 - The Year of Italian Culture in the U.S.

When: Now through March 3, 2013 every day from 10 a.m. - 5 p.m. (Sundays: 11 a.m. - 6 p.m.) excepting New Year's Day when the Gallery is closed

Where: West Building, National Gallery of Art, between 4th and 7^th and Constitution Avenue, N.W.

How much: No charge

For more information: (202) 737-4215

Metro stations: Judiciary Square, Navy Memorial-Archives, or the Smithsonian

The Cherubs Playing With a Swan by Jean-Baptiste Tuby I (French, 1635-1700) on the left, were silent for the press opening of David-Apollo, and they remain silent today/patricia leslie

patricialesli@gmail.com