No cute title tonight

Wow, last week was frickin' busy! I really did do all of the stuff I bragged about potentially doing. I guess I won't rehash it all, but two -- no, wait, three moments -- glow in my memory, like a DC firefly:

1. Quote: "It's not aesthetic, it's... [grimaces] sociological." This from a Hirshorn curator, who looks my age and whined for an hour an a half about how torturous the Venice Bienalle show evidently was this year. The Washington Post art critic commiserated. Who f*cking whines about spending two weeks at an art show in Venice? It was fabulous listening to them, though, because now I can better discuss modern art: "Dear god, it's just too coy/sentimental/trite/superficial/precious/sociological."
2. The Holocaust Museum is one of the best/most important museums I've ever visited. It's narrative structure is incredible and collections compelling, obviously. But just as obviously, it is an emotionally draining experience, and I took the rest of my day off work. That's all I'll say on that.
3. Samantha Craine and the Midnight Shivers are a great band, and I became their weekend groupie because I managed to see them twice. Check 'em out!
4. Dammit! A baby tomato just maliciously burst onto my white camisole!!! That's the third shirt I have ruined since arriving here. Seriously. People wonder why I have so many clothes; this is why; I cannot be trusted. Stupid, stupid, stupid tomato. It's not the fork's fault.

Oh yeah:

5. ... and I visited The White House! Hurrah!

On Saturday. It turns out that your reservation, made 4-6 months in advance, gets you a fabulous, explanatory map and a brief chance to walk through the East Wing only. No purses, no pictures, no cameras. I have no proof that I was there, which really sucks. I mean, fine, maybe I could have snuck some cell phone pictures, but when they say "no pictures" I tend to believe that they mean it; I would not f*ck with the Secret Service. I walk by the WH every single day on my way to work, mind you, and it's not exactly a friendly atmosphere -- those cops will yell at you like crazy. So I can't imagine that the security guards inside are any nicer.

Anyway, it was very nicely furnished and shockingly small. That press room is so wee! The ball room, the state rooms, the grand hallway -- so very wee. Which is good, because the American president's home should not be the same size as Versailles. Even if the decor is heavily French and reminiscent of a monarchy.

So, after all of those overly exciting events, my old heart wanted to do nothing more on Sunday than take leisurely cat naps and visit Target. It's the least touristy thing I've done since I've been here, and thank god. I mean, you can't top the WH, right? Now it's time to sit back and put on the metaphorical sweatpants of daily life.

Speaking of my internship, I had a good chat today with the Sup about public programming, and the annoying trend of planning for the toddler demographic. I think I won her heart when I said "Paper plate art... can be done by any bad babysitter in this nation," a mocking reference to some rather uninspired public programming of late presented by certain museums in the nation's capital. Seriously. Museums aren't about providing crayons and butcher paper.

Side note: I enjoy being city-surly! I turned around and glared at a couple who were conversing on a sidewalk today. Really, really glared at them. They deserved it, because she was on her bike and taking up the whole damn sidewalk and did not move, by God. Yeah, they saw me coming. But I bet they didn't anticipate that stone-cold glare! I'm hoping that if I go back to that block tomorrow, I'll discover them frozen, Medusa-like, by my city-surly-looking powers.

Projected plans for early July

Monday: Errands Day (put on jogging clothes, but neglect to jog).

Tuesday: Watch a discussion on the work of Jean Shin, led by a conservationist from Lunder, the artist herself and an AAM curator.

Wednesday: Smithsonian Intern Ice Cream Social at the Postal Museum. This excitement will be followed up by docent training, on the forthcoming Daguerre exhibit.

Thursday: Options include a curator-led talk about Margaret Sanger (oooh, controversy!) or a panel discussion over at the Hirshorn, whose theme is basically "art critics vs. curators."

Friday: Morning field trip to the US Holocaust Museum with the interns. Evening plans may include an IMAX show or the Jazz Garden, if I have any energy left.

Saturday: Here's hoping that my special tour of a certain world-famous house won't be cancelled...

Sunday: The Lord's Day, of course. Reflect heavily on all the important work I have accomplished, such as background checks, flyer designs, networking, and receiving my Smithsonian library card.

Arlington

A brief introduction to the frontier-like danger of the greater DC metropolitan area:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4T1RMuoQnKo

Post 4th: Me Barry, Neil.

I did not make it out to Artomatic this weekend. My afternoon plans wrinkled up (aka, a fire alarm cancelled the movie we had bought tickets to see on the Big Day Off), which consequently led to other lazy Fursday activities, which bumped Artomatic, which I dimly remembered on Sunday evening. Ah well. I'll pretend it was nine stories worth of Thomas Kincade / American-flag-wrapped-puppy art.

I did manage to have a great informational interview, on Fursday morning, with the Education director of a certain non-profit museum in town, whose collection is pretty great (aka, European). She has a degree in Arts Administration, too! We commiserated over art historians.

The 4th of July in Washington, Distrct of Columbia?!?!? Just how amazing is that, you ask? Well, I avoided most public festivities, so I really can't vouch for it. I did not join the typical "fustercluck of humanity on America's Mall;" instead it was a dinner party on Capitol Hill. The big concert was being broadcast in the background of this intimate, elite event; we leisurely strolled over to the Capitol once Barry Manilow appeared on the telly -- oh, how I was excited to hear the live sweet strains of Barry, drifting up the hill (like acidophilus)! -- but alas, the program's time delay was deceptively long. We showed up to hear no Barry, and see only half the fireworks (slightly obscured by the blinding lights of the concert directly below us). No Barry, I tell you! I watched one lonely drunk girl pump her fist to the silent show of sky-fire; then we headed back to the appartment for more tapenade and shrimp.

Where, amazingly, the fireworks were still on the television! And un-ironically accompanied by Neil Diamond's "Coming to America," which almost literally killed me.

Still, I am counting my blessings: no blood, shattered glass, firework mishaps or 911 calls this year! In my immediate vicinity, at least.

Also of general interest: MTV's "Real World: DC" is now filming in Adams Morgan, and on Sunday I witnessed filming. It was creeeeeeeepy. I and a mystery friend were simply walking through a quiet residential neighborhood on a mellow weekend evening, when we noticed three camera men running backwards before a group of overly angular and well-dressed tweens. I mean, young adults. We saw the whole cast; evidently an "action shot" of them walking together, in total silence, down a silent street. Being gawked at by people like me (less angular thanks to pasta). Based on this glimpse, I believe their names will prove to be Jack, Noho, Shannika, Skot, Allyson, Pug, and Blanket. Their house is very large, and conveniently located near a mini-Safeway.

That's not the "Real World: DC" at all, yo! Which reminds me, I need tomatoes.

Fursday is Awesome!

Fursday is what I dub the Thursdays preceding Federal holiday Fridays. Today was a very happy Fursday!

It began with my first gallery check, which turned out to not mean leisurely walking around the museum before hours, ensuring that everything looks lovely and is accounted for. I was handed a Swiffer (tm), a rag and Brillianize and was instructed to 1. Check the galleries and 2. Dust the artwork / wipe down the plexiglass cases.

Yes, it is pathetic that I was instantly excited about this. But I like art, and I like to play house, and I like the fact that I was allowed to (sort of) touch priceless and incredible works of real, real art. By touch, I guess I mean Swiffer (tm). I swiffered Marcel Duchamp's face! I swiffered Bob Hope! Through plexiglass!!!

Next I joined a tour (which I coordinated) of the Lunder Conservation Center. Conservation is amazing. This center is absolutely beautiful, and it was very exciting to see x-rays of John McQueen basketry and marble statues whose appendages had broken off during unloading (foot re-attached, hand still disembodied). Our guide was excellent, too, and I know I learned more about museum collections and conservation in one hour at LCC than I have all year at UO. Sorry, school, but sometimes practice defeats theory.

I tried to attend the famed Penn Quarter farmer's market, but -- I have learned that a "farmer's market" in DC actually translates as "one block's worth of fresh produce, but mostly stupid flowers and Buffalo steaks."

Saddened, I visited Georgetown, because Zara and Anthropologie usually cheer me up. They did. I topped off the lovely day with a visit to Five Guys and ohmygoditwasreallysogood. The beef melted in my mouth like delicious, buttery animal flesh, topped with grilled onions and grilled mushrooms.

And now it's evening, and I must get a bit of research done so that when I meet the Education Director of the National Museum of Women in the Arts tomorrow morning, their take on public programming will be fresh in my mind.

Happy 4th of July!

MOMA: I See...

This nearly brought a tear to my twinklin' Irish eye:
http://www.moma.org/explore/multimedia/videos/37/272

Thanks, Britney! And Megan, for finding it and from whom I poached the link...

almost a major American holiday...

I. I'd like to point out that it's been a full three weeks in DC as of today, and my feet are still acting like incredibly stupid and needy Golden Labs. I just can't shake 'em! Band-aids have become my substitute layer of flesh!! Kevin found me in a park last night, wimpering because I didn't want to make the new blisters any worse. Four band-aids later, we hobbled over to check out my potentially new habitation on Capitol Hill.

Context: I'm living in a dorm on the GW campus, three blocks from the White House. Although the location can't be beat (in terms of Trader Joe proximity), I... find this dorm... rather gross. There's historic charm, and then there's dilapidated crap. I live in the latter. They apparently repainted my room while I was at work yesterday; this I know because of the white paint splattered all over two shirts I had left on my bed. I'll not repeat my tirade about that matter in print.

I had to move in August anyway, so just so y'all know -- I'm going to abandon GW a bit early and essentially house-sit for a husband-wife teaching artist team, who are away for residencies in August. They have a sincerely beautiful house on Capitol Hill, so I'll be able to watch fireflies in the evening and have a nice big kitchen and do laundry without fretting over my quarter supply. This is very good news.

II. Intern stuff: well, it's true: Big Brother is watching you. During happy hour with the interns tonight (in Georgetown!), I learned that one of the PR intern's tasks is to monitor how much a certain museum's name pops up in people's personal blogs. I totally understand why the museum would want to track such information; it's like tracking down honest, unsolicited comment cards on the Web -- at the same time, it pays to be prudent -- or altogether silent -- about all things professional whilst on the Web. Ahem.

So let's keep it frivolous, and talk incessantly about my feet and my food supply!

Oh, and a modern dance performance I saw today, for free, at the Shakespeare Theatre Company. Pretty amazing way to spend one's lunch hour.